"An idea... resilient, highly contagious. Once an idea has taken hold of the brain, it is almost impossible to eradicate." - Inception
Prodigal Son
The snow crunched underfoot with every step he took. The only part of his body that was exposed to the elements was his eyes and only through the slits cut in the cloth wrapped around his head. Anything more would have already been frostbitten.
This was a true Berk winter.
It was very late by the time Stoick finally managed to extricate himself from the party. The annual celebration had been in recognition of the tribe's survival despite the harshest weather that nature could throw at them. The tradition was to hold the festival in the dead of winter and in the worst conditions possible just to show that they could.
It was a perfect example of their stubbornness.
And did nature ever comply with them this year! The worst blizzard of the year had hit one week ago. It began with hail and sleet and transitioned into howling winds and unending snowfall. Several of the trees most exposed to the winds had frozen solid and snapped under the gale coming from the western sea. The remaining trees creaked ominously overhead with every gust. All in all, it was looking to be one of the harshest winters in recent memory.
Despite the horrible weather, there was a life and vibrancy that came from having so much of the community gathered in the same hall, drinking the same mead, feasting together, trying to sing songs, and attempting to dance. It was a defiance of the natural order, the act of doing so showing everyone what they could do together.
If only he could still enjoy it.
He had stayed at this celebration throughout the entire night in previous years. It was something that was expected of the Chief, and he also had a reputation to defend. Specifically, the challenge to see who could drink the most and be the last one standing.
But he was different now.
None of it mattered to him as much anymore. The songs, the dancing, and the drinking did not bring him the same joy that they used to. He was simply too tired, and even if he had the energy, he had no desire to join the celebration.
Crunch…
.
Crunch…
.
His life was not all that different now compared to what it had been before. He still woke up at dawn, prepared the same soup, attended to his Chiefly duties through the day, returned home either after eating or to prepare dinner itself, and then went to sleep. There was one thing in particular that was different.
The peaceful silence of the house.
It was an oppressive, almost tangible quietness that pressed in around him during his moments alone. The crackle of the fireplace was now the loudest thing ever heard in the Haddock house. It was a peacefulness born not of rest and comfort but of absence.
Of emptiness.
A void where something had once been and was now lost forever.
The house was occupied and empty at the same time.
Just like him.
He knew just how much he was responsible for what had happened. Others had tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault, but he knew better. He knew why Hiccup was gone.
Crunch…
.
Crunch…
.
He could not see more than a few feet ahead in the now near-total whiteout. He ducked inside a storage shed to shield himself from the worst of the wind. The barrels inside the shed held fish. A lot of fish. The stockpiled supplies were far more than the tribe could ever manage to eat through before the weather breaks. All thanks to the dragons.
The dragons…
How different Berk was now because of them. Most stayed completely out of the way and did not even show themselves in the village. This was almost universally considered an improvement. There were also the few that moved in. It was mostly the group that had attached itself to the youths, now known as "the riders" as they were known in the community. Maybe half a dozen other dragons could also be considered to be permanent residents of Berk.
Astrid had, after much frustration and many fish, managed to teach several of the dragons how to fish. Or rather, she had shown them how they could help humans catch more. Of course dragons knew how catch fish on their own. However, working together was faster and led to larger and more frequent meals for all parties involved.
No longer did fear descend at dusk at the thought that there might be an attack that night. Everyone recognized the material benefits of having the dragons work for them.
And yet…
The only families and persons who took an active interest in the dragons were the younger ones. He could not fault the adults who wished to keep their distance. How could he blame them when so many of them had lost a loved one or a friend to the creatures in the past? It was possible that one of the dragons that now lived peacefully in the village could be one of the ones which had killed someone from the village. How could that be ignored?
The young did not generally know the pain, the loss, or the grief of a family torn apart. They truly lived in a different world from their parents' generation. These two worlds were opposed to each other and could not coincide.
He knew which one he thought would be best for his people, but he had no idea which one would prevail. What would that transition to the new look like? People can do terrible things when they are afraid and confronted with new ways.
As he knew all too well.
It certainly helped the dragons' cause that there had not been any recent incidents. The dragons had not done much of anything since the winter had set in. Those that did reside in the village mostly slept and only arose to eat and relieve themselves. That they were doing nothing meant that they were not doing anything that could legitimately be complained about.
However, even in doing nothing they had proven to be beneficial. Those who had a dragon of their own took pity on it and brought their dragon indoors, foregoing the outside stables. They then found that they had an always-present source of warmth especially on the most bitterly cold of nights. A source of warmth that seemed to enjoy curling up with them, bizarre though that seemed to everyone who did not have a dragon.
They had peace.
The storm outside seemed to be letting up for the moment so he decided to forge ahead. Step after step followed as he made his way through the storm.
Alone.
Then he arrived at his house. The dim light from the window bespoke the fire still burning within and the warmth that awaited him inside.
With a great heave, he opened the door, stepped inside, and quickly closed it behind him. He gave a sigh of relief at finally escaping the freezing cold.
He had left earlier that evening without finishing his dinner, and the leftovers needed to be dealt with. He grabbed a log from the stack of chopped firewood next to the door and meandered over to the fireplace. He froze mid-step at the sight that greeted him.
The egg, which had become a fixture of the living room, was shattered. It must have hatched. Almost in the same moment he saw the egg, he noticed the two baby Night Furies curled up together in the warmth in front of the fire.
"What?" he whispered.
There had only been one egg, so why were there two dragons?
"Twins?"
It must be since they looked identical except that one was slightly smaller. They were both tiny! He had never seen a baby dragon before and was very surprised at how… how innocent they looked nestled up against each other. They did not look fearsome at all. To think that these tiny things would one day grow into the terrifying beasts that…
No, he corrected himself. He could not think like that anymore. Hiccup and the months since… it happened… had shown everyone on Berk who was willing to understand that dragons were not simply beasts. They were creatures capable of some degree of affection toward people and were certainly useful to have around. Just like dogs, wolves, horses, and other pets.
He carefully hung his coat up above the fireplace while keeping close watch on the sleeping hatchlings. The floorboards creaked with one of his steps. The larger hatchling shifted in its sleep and nuzzled closer to its sibling.
It was such a simple thing, yet it pierced Stoick's heart to see such an affectionate action from so small a creature. How comforting it must be to have your only family member close at your side.
If only Hiccup were here to enjoy this with him. Even now, months later, the pain and the guilt never truly went away.
He stood there for a few minutes silently observing the sleeping dragons before him. This was his chance! His chance to show that he had learned from his mistakes. His chance to make Hiccup proud even in Valhalla.
His chance to begin redeeming himself.
"What have I gotten myself into?"
He had no idea how to take care of dragons, let alone newly-hatched ones. His dragons. He, Stoick the Vast of Berk, after decades of defending his people against dragon raids, was now responsible for raising and training two dragons. Of course, he had known that this would probably happen when he chose to rescue the egg. It would not have been right for anyone else to be responsible for it considering its origins.
After a few more moments, his practical side told him that the dragons would be hungry when they woke up. Feeding them sounded like one of the best ways to get their trust since that seemed to work with the fully-grown dragons.
Perfect, I'll let them finish my dinner.
He walked into the kitchen and was surprised to find the plate picked clean except for bones. One of the table chairs was also knocked over.
So they already helped themselves. Well, there is one more fish that I can prepare in the morning.
He walked back to the fireplace and placed the log into the fire. Now it was sure to burn well into the morning and keep the house, or at least the room, warm. He gave a wide yawn. The exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to him. Weeks ago he had moved his sleeping skins out of the bedroom and into a corner of the living room as he did every winter. It was too cold to sleep anywhere else in the house.
Whether by chance or by design, his sleeping arrangement left him with a clear view of the fireplace and Hiccup's helmet hanging above it. It was a dual reminder of both his son's bravery and his own blindness. It was always the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes at night.
Silence reigned once more in the house, but now it was somewhat different. He had a purpose outside of his necessary duties to the village. He would do all he could for these little dragons because it was all that he could do for Hiccup now.
The cheering intensified around him. What he was about to do was crazy and reckless, but he had to put an end to this. His entire village was wrong in their belief that dragons were monsters, and only he and Astrid knew better.
Beyond this gate in front of him waited the Nightmare, but it was not the dragon he was worried about. He hoped that the villagers and Stoick would accept what he would show them. They had to... right? He just wished he had a chance to talk to Astrid before he went out there in case something went wrong. He had to know that she would protect Toothless.
The gate in front of him remained shut as the moments passed by. Then suddenly the shouting went silent. His heart started breathing faster.
It was time.
"I can do this. I'm ready."
The gate swung open, and Hiccup strode confidently into the arena. But there was no dragon anywhere in sight. However, there was a man standing across the arena in full battle armor with a massive hammer on the ground at his side. It was his father.
"Dad, what are you doing down here?"
Stoick did not answer. He only stared directly in front of him. Something was very wrong. Suddenly, Stoick reached down, picked up his hammer, and began to walk towards him with deadly purpose and a furious expression on his face.
"Monster, you took my son from me!"
What!
"But…but dad, it's me."
"You are no Nord! You are not my son!"
Hiccup's heart broke into an uncountable number of pieces. How could his father say such a thing?
He tried to hold out a hand to plead with his father, but instead he saw a claw. He suddenly became aware of his wings and his tail. He had not seen a dragon because he was the dragon!
Nords kill dragons.
"Dad, dad no! Stop!"
Stoick was charging at him with his hammer held high. The crowd began cheering again in anticipation while Hiccup recoiled in fear.
"Please, it's me!"
However, instead of words, he only heard the roaring of a panicked dragon. His father could not understand him. He turned away and tried to run but tripped over his strange feet. A moment later a blinding pain flashed through his tail. He screamed. Despite his pain he chanced a glance behind him.
The end of his tail was crushed and twisted in an unnatural angle by a hammer. The same hammer that even at that moment was being swung through the air towards his head.
Crack!
The next thing he knew was that his father was standing over him with a knife drawn directly above his heart. He tried to speak, to make any sound, to beg for mercy, but nothing came. A strange ringing filled his ears, and his vision faded in and out of focus.
Stoick's face, which had been proud and furious, was now pitiful and shattered with tears streaming into his beard. The knife quivered in his grasp.
"Oh son, I'm so sorry…"
The knife fell.
Hiccup awoke in a panic. For a moment, he imagined phantom pains in his chest before realizing it was all just a dream. He was not in the area, and his dad was not trying to kill him. He was safe in his house and in front of the fireplace with Toothless sleeping at his side.
Wait, what?
Why was Toothless in his house? Why were they both on the floor?
The events of the previous evening returned to him and a quick glance at himself confirmed his suspicion.
Not entirely a dream then, great…
He yawned and was again surprised at how wide his jaws seemed to open and that his teeth seemed to not be fixed in place. Of course, he knew that Night Furies have retractable teeth, but it was too strange to have them himself. It was only one of many strange things he was having to consider about himself as he lay his head back down on his paws.
How did this happen to me?
The last that he could remember he was falling toward the firestorm and he might have felt Toothless catch him. Neither of which explained why he was a dragon.
Well, since I'm up I might as well look around.
He got up and walked over to the window. He was reminded of how small he was when he realized that he could not see directly outside. However, he could look up at the clouds in the pre-dawn darkness.
It was snowing.
But, it doesn't snow in the summer!
Blink.
It's not summer anymore.
How much had changed on Berk while he had been supposedly dead? The fact that his and Toothless's egg had been kept in his house meant that the village could not be absolutely against dragons. Or maybe his dad had kept it in the house in secret.
His dad.
How could he face his father now? His father naturally would not recognize him, and he could not talk to him anymore. He would not know that his son was still alive, in a way, unless he could figure out some way to tell him.
In the midst of his melancholy thoughts, he heard a strange clanging in the kitchen.
Toothless, what did you do?
He turned the corner and gave an involuntary squeak of fear. There, in front of him and looking as tall and mighty as Thor himself, stood his father. He could not help but back away from the giant in front of him. His father slowly turned around at the noise he made and looked down on him.
Stoick had been having trouble sleeping in recent weeks. Well, more so than was usual anyway. So when he woke up before dawn, he decided to get to work as was his routine. Routine kept order and stability in his daily life. Now his routine would have to change slightly because of his two self-appointed charges.
He was in the kitchen, skinning the salmon when he accidentally knocked over a pan which made a sharp peal when it crashed. He grumbled in annoyance, picked it back up, and returned to his task when a strange squeal sounded from behind him and broke the silence. Even in his poorly-rested condition he knew exactly what kind of creature must have made that sound.
He slowly turned around, the anxiousness and excitement growing in him. Sure enough, not even three paces from him stood one of the two hatchlings. Specifically, the slightly smaller one. And it looked terrified of him. He had to show it that he did not mean to hurt it.
How do I get its trust?
Fish seemed to be the most effective method to gaining their trust that he had observed. He tore off a small sliver of salmon, turned from the table, and took very slow steps toward the dragon. It took one cautious step backwards and crouched low to the ground. Strangely it was not looking at him. Instead, it was looking down at the ground.
He sat down in front of the tiny creature and slowly held out the piece of fish.
"It's ok, I won't hurt you."
He wasn't sure why he was talking to it. It could not understand what he was saying, but maybe something in his voice could reassure it. Some animals responded well to a calming, steady voice. And the fish he was offering it should certainly be a plus.
The dragon did not immediately snap up the fish. Nor did it retreat from him. After a few moments, it looked up from the floor and stared directly into his eyes without blinking.
It was very strange to see those reptilian, forest-green eyes because they reminded him so much of Hiccup's. And the way that it was staring at him bespoke awareness and understanding. As if it were waiting for him to do something.
Just how smart were they? He had wondered this on several occasions in the last several months. It made sense that adults could be trained and learn tricks. But for a new hatchling to seem so aware was very unsettling.
A few more moments passed before the dragon seemed to make up its mind about something. It carefully inched forward and sat down on its haunches in front of him. It opened its toothless mouth and gently grabbed the bit of fish. It bobbed its head back and the sliver of fish was gone.
For such a small thing with no teeth, you sure can make a piece of fish disappear fast.
The sight of the baby dragon taking food from his hand was so mesmerizing that he neglected to draw his hand back. The next thing he knew he could feel smooth, leathery skin against his palm and faint vibrations coming through his hand. Its eyes were closed and it was purring.
It was one of the most surreal experiences of his entire life. This tiny dragon whose entire head was no thicker than his fist was peacefully resting its head against his palm. It was trusting him, a complete stranger and a human, with its life. This was amazing. He could not help but give a tiny grin.
Oh son, is this what it was like for you?
A few moments passed before either of them moved.
"I guess you were hungry," he finally said out loud as he drew back his hand.
The hatchling looked up and nodded.
"Well, I'll get you some more then."
He rose to his feet and turned to go grab another slice of fish. He took a couple of steps before he blinked and realized what just happened.
It nodded at him!
A baby dragon just responded to him by making a human gesture!
What?
He turned back and looked at the baby as it stopped following and looked up at him. Even it seemed to realize that it had done something very odd since it suddenly looked more wary and even bashful.
"Ok, this is strange."
It only got stranger when the dragon nodded again. He was definitely not imagining this. Surely it could not be mimicking since it had never seen a human before.
"Do you… understand me?"
The little dragon looked around the room wildly. What could it possibly be looking for? It must have seen something because it walked forward and reached out with one of its front legs. It grabbed one of his pant legs with its tiny paw and gave a tug while gesturing towards the fireplace with its head. It then let go and bounded over to the fireplace where a few embers still smoldered amidst the ash.
The dragon then sat down and looked at him expectantly. Completely confused, he walked over and stood next to it. It extended a tiny claw over the ashes and what followed left him breathless.
It wrote runes in the ashes!
Not only was the fact that it wrote clearly recognizable runes inexplicable, but what it wrote sent shivers down his spine.
Hi Dad
.
What?
.
I am Hiccup
Neither of them moved. He stood there in a daze and stared off into the distance with a blank expression as he tried to comprehend the impossible. Hiccup was dead. Everyone knew that. There had been no body, but neither could anyone be expected to find one given the devastation that occurred that day. The circumstances surrounding his finding of the egg and the fact that it hatched twins were both very odd indeed, but this…
"No. It's impossible. My..."
He choked on his own words.
"My son is dead."
One of the few sources of comfort he had been given was the knowledge that those who had fallen in battle had earned a place in Valhalla. It was something that he had been told many times that he should be proud of.
He looked back down at the dragon and saw that it was staring at something above the fireplace. There was nothing above the fireplace except the helmet.
Hiccup's helmet.
His blood froze and his knees began shaking. Mutilated bodies, tribal treaty-making, and outbreaks of disease, he had dealt with for years. But this was entirely beyond his ken. He dropped to his knees and forced himself to take breaths. Before he could do anything else, the dragon wiped away the previous writing and began anew.
Are you still proud to call me
"My son," Stoick finished the line with barely a gasp.
Then he completely broke.
All the months of repressed emotion spilled over as he fell prostrate to the cold floor and held his face in his hands. He was on the battlefield grieving over his lost son all over again. He was enduring the silent glances of commiseration and looks of pity from those who had also lost loved ones. He was maintaining his composure in public while being torn apart by his shame and guilt. He was returning to an empty house every single day. All at once.
He had no idea how long he lay prone on the floor before he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He sat up and looked at Hiccup's extended paw. He tried to imagine it as the small hand that it should be. If he was any judge of draconic expressions, Hiccup looked very anxious from how he was crouched low to the ground and how his tail was twitching.
"Hiccup?"
Hiccup looked up at him with wide and attentive eyes.
"Can… can you forgive me, for… for everything?"
Hiccup leapt up onto his lap and tried to embrace him while standing on his hind legs. For a moment, Stoick did not know what to do. He had never been one to give hugs, but here he could not help but make an exception. He gathered Hiccup into his arms and held him tightly. Perhaps too tightly as Hiccup squirmed and gave a squeak of discomfort.
"Sorry," he whispered as he loosened his hold.
The feelings of the smooth scales, the leathery wings folded at Hiccup's side, and the tail resting on his lap which he had just a moment ago thought incredible were now unnerving since he knew to whom they belonged. There was no doubt in his mind that this tiny dragon was, impossibly, his son.
"I'm sorry I never listened. I was a fool."
Hiccup shook his head and grumbled.
"Yes, I was. I was too proud, too arrogant, useless as a father."
He realized that he had been crying the whole time. He finally released Hiccup and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"How did this," he finally gestured at Hiccup, "happen?"
You just gestured to all of me
After a moment of silence, they both gave wry chuckles, though in Hiccup's case it sounded more like coughing. He then got back to writing.
I fell
Toothless caught me
Then I woke up like this
They both looked at the egg shards.
That was strange
Toothless? Oh, right, the Night Fury he found.
"Wait, so is that…?" he asked while pointing towards the still-sleeping hatchling over near the fireplace.
Hiccup nodded once.
Toothless
Stoick could only stare, dumbfounded, and rubbed his head in confusion.
"But where did the egg come from? I thought your dragon was a female."
Hiccup shrugged his shoulders and grunted once. He did not think his father needed to know exactly how badly he had been hurt when he fell from Toothless. Or that he had probably died.
No idea
Toothless is definitely a boy
Hiccup paused and cocked his head slightly in thought.
Well he was but I am not sure if we are now
He hung his head slightly as he finished writing. It was a disturbing thought to both of them.
He then looked at his paws and noticed that they were covered in ash and soot from all the writing he had been doing. He held up one of his dirty paws for his father to see.
"Oh, I'll get a cloth for that. Are you still hungry? I can make you some fish."
Hiccup nodded vigorously in response. He wasn't sure why but he was already starving even though he had the small serving of fish a few moments earlier and he and Toothless had helped themselves to the leftovers some number of hours ago.
"Ok, I'll get it ready."
Stoick disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Hiccup to his thoughts.
Well, that went well. My dad knows that I'm alive. He knows that I'm a dragon. He doesn't hate me. And, yep, that pretty much sums everything up.
The prospect of some real cooked fish was initially very appealing. Then again, the bit of raw fish that he had eaten earlier had not actually tasted that bad. And if it were cooked that would mean he was trusting his dad to not mess up.
Raw was starting to sound better and better the more he thought about it.
I wonder if Toothless will eat fish if my dad makes it. What am I saying, of course he will if he is hungry enough. Actually, I should go get him up.
Hiccup walked over to where Toothless was still dozing. For a moment, he pondered pouncing on Toothless while he still slept, but then he decided against it.
He was dreaming about the sky and gliding. The soft winds caressing his wings, the clouds parting around him, and the warmth from the sun seeping into his scales. No danger anywhere in sight. A full belly. Perfection.
At least, it seemed perfect at first. But something was absent. Someone?
He saw a brief flash of someone else's wing next to him when the dream suddenly faded and he was back in the waking world. He gave a small groan of displeasure and slowly opened his eyes. He was very hungry again and it had been a good dream. Hatching had been very hard work after all. He was back on the floor in the place where Hiccup's sire lived. It was hard to tell exactly how long he had slept since it was still a bit dark in the cave. At least the place where the fire had burned still gave off some warmth.
Speaking of Hiccup…
Hiccup was standing right in front of him and apparently had just nudged him to wake him up. He got to his feet and stretched his limbs and wings while arching his back. He yawned widely to help shake off the post-waking lethargy.
"Good morning, Hiccup."
Hiccup settled down and listened carefully as he began speaking. Hiccup clearly knew that he was being spoken to and was trying to figure out what was being said. Toothless realized the main difficulty that they were going to fly through on this flight. It was one matter to repeatedly say the word for a specific thing like a fish because eventually Hiccup would make the connection. However, he had no idea how to express more abstract ideas in a way that Hiccup could understand. Sure, Hiccup was very smart, but would that be enough?
He looked directly at Hiccup, made sure that he had his attention, and pointed at him with a forepaw. He remembered that Hiccup had used that gesture to direct attention to something.
"Hiccup."
Hiccup raised a paw of his own, looked at it, and replied questioningly, "Hiccup?"
Toothless shook his head.
"No."
He walked the couple of steps over to Hiccup and looked over his entire body.
"Hiccup."
He then looked at himself.
"Toothless."
Hiccup seemed confused for a few moments and closed his eyes in thought. Then he opened his eyes and his ears went up in a very satisfied and smug expression.
He pointed at himself first.
"Hiccup," he said with confidence.
He pointed at Toothless.
"Toothless."
"Yes!" Toothless hummed in excitement. It was working! Hiccup was learning.
He was a bit surprised though when Hiccup called out his name again but made that silly face thing while doing so. First, he said "Toothless" when his teeth were not showing, nodded, and said "yes." However, the second time he said "Toothless" his teeth were bared, and he made sure that Toothless saw them, he shook his head afterwards, and said "no." Hiccup then sat down and looked at him expectantly.
Why had Hiccup connected his name to that expression? He remembered that the first time Hiccup had said the two-leg word was after they had made the same silly face-expressions at each other back in the cove. Two-legs like to designate things. To name things. Names.
Wait, did he… no he did not!
He glared at Hiccup in mock indignation, but he hoped that Hiccup did not know that he was only pretending.
"Hiccup! You named me that silly face!"
Hiccup at least had the dignity to look twisted at what he had done. However, his expression brightened once again and he looked back at Toothless.
"Now what are you going to tell me?" Toothless huffed.
Hiccup said his own name and then began coughing as if he was having uncontrollable spasms or coughing. Toothless was almost concerned enough to go see if Hiccup was alright when they stopped. After doing so, Hiccup closed his eyes and groaned in clear exasperation. He then opened his eyes, and they looked at each other.
A moment passed between them before they saw the beginnings of grins forming on each other's faces. Then they both lost control and collapsed to the ground in hysterics with their wings flopped to the side and tails twitching uncontrollably. It was the deepest, most uncontrollable fit of laughter that either of them could remember. Their amusement was finally starting to die down when Hiccup seemed to get a real case of the hiccups.
The hysterics resumed with renewed strength.
It took nearly a minute before they managed to contain themselves, Hiccup only managing to do so by holding his breath.
"Hiccup and Toothless…" Toothless shook his head in exasperation, "what a twisted pair we are."
A very welcome scent wafted into the room, and Toothless immediately perked up.
"I smell fish!"
That also reminded him of how hungry he was. He licked his lips and got to his feet to find the fish. Hiccup correctly recognized the word for fish and quickly bounded away while motioning for him to follow. Toothless did so but froze as soon as he saw into where the smell was coming from.
There was Hiccup's sire. The Alpha.
The two-leg was standing with a weapon in his paw. Unbidden images of the two-leg roaring and charging with rage blazing in his eyes came to his mind. His own eyes narrowed, and a soft growl began building in his throat. This was the one who tried to kill him after he came to save Hiccup from the danger the other two-legs put Hiccup in!
It was Hiccup's gentle croon that calmed him and let him relax somewhat. He also knew that it would not be wise to be hostile since the sire was now many times larger than him. However, he was not ready to trust the two-leg. That would take much time if it ever happened.
The sire was using the weapon to slice up a fish. Could he mean to give the fish to them? He must because there was no other good reason for him to cut it up into such tiny pieces.
Hiccup jumped up onto the table, and he thought that Hiccup already seemed a bit more confident about his movements. The sire said some things to Hiccup in the two-leg language and then gave the fish to Hiccup to eat on top of the table.
Is he going to give me any?
Evidently, he did not seem that he would. If the Alpha was going to give Hiccup fish to eat, why not give him some as well?
I need to eat too…
After a few moments pondering what he would do, he joined Hiccup on the table, and Hiccup moved aside so that he could eat as well.
At least this fish is not burned!
Stoick wasn't sure how hungry Hiccup was so he decided to carve up the entire fish. As the moments passed in such a repetitive task, his mind began to wander and kept settling on one very serious matter. How could his son have been changed into a dragon? It was unlike anything he had ever heard of. Sure, there are a few stories in which a person is cursed in exactly that way because of their own greed or some other vice. But those tales were purely tools for teaching the right morals in the readers.
He had always looked down on the villagers who believed in magic. The gods could intervene whenever they wished and they did so in mysterious ways, but that was not the same as magic. The gods would not have done this to his son. Was he wrong about magic? If so, what creature would have done this to Hiccup?
Immediately, the only possible answer came to him. He had not been superstitious before these events, but even back then he knew that there was something different about Night Furies. They were too mysterious, too fast, too powerful, and too clever to be natural. Had that Toothless, as Hiccup called it, done this to his son? Because if it did…
He gritted his teeth at the thought.
After a couple moments pondering what he would do if he found out that the dragon was responsible, he was interrupted by a series of clicking sounds behind him. He turned and saw that both of the hatchlings were walking into the kitchen. Hiccup, the slightly smaller one, seemed to be leading or encouraging the other. As for the other one, it looked like an exact copy of Hiccup except that it was slightly bigger and looked far more wary from how it was constantly looking around.
It was hard to imagine this tiny thing before him as being the same fearsome creature that had ravaged their towers in the raids, which Hiccup had tamed, and which he himself had fought in the arena. And which had fought for them in the final battle.
This would be easier if it were any other dragon.
He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself. He was not going to do anything to Hiccup's dragon. It was just another dragon like all the others that lived in the village.
"Uhm, I have the fish. I still need to cook it."
Surprisingly, Hiccup shook his head and leapt up onto the table.
"You want it raw?" he asked while holding up a piece of the sliced fish.
Hiccup nodded and licked his lips.
In a way, it made sense that his taste preferences would be different now. Still, Hiccup had always refused to eat raw fish before. What else might be different about him now?
He put all the fish that he had carved onto a plate and set the plate down on the table. He had just turned to grab some utensils before he realized how silly that would have been. Hiccup probably could not use a fork anymore. His hands, Stoick refused to think of them any other way, did not seem to be shaped the right way to hold a utensil. Hiccup began snapping the tiny slivers of fish up directly in his mouth.
It broke his heart all over again to see his son reduced to eating like an animal.
"I promise that I will make this right, Hiccup. I will find a way to get you back."
Hiccup immediately looked up from the meal and nodded solemnly. He wasn't sure exactly what he could do for Hiccup, but he would figure something out. And he would have to be very discrete about it. The knowledge of what had happened was not the kind of thing that he wanted the rest of the village finding out about. He could imagine the panic that could ensure if it were known that people could turn into dragons. No one could possibly be allowed to know the truth.
Toothless also jumped up onto the table, and Stoick almost yelled at him to get off. He only restrained himself because Hiccup purred at Toothless and pushed several pieces of fish towards him. If Hiccup wanted Toothless to eat with him, well, he was not going to deny Hiccup his wish.
Hiccup chirped to get his attention and held up a paw-hand that was now coated in both fish slime and ash.
Oh, right.
He grabbed a cloth and a bowl of water and set them down on the table for Hiccup to use. He thought that Hiccup would wash his paw-hands in the water, but instead he pretended to drink the water and looked at it suspiciously. He then looked up at his father and cocked his head in an obvious request. Not all the water that they used in the house for washing was also good for drinking since their stores were limited in the winter.
It only took a moment for him to fetch another cup and fill it from the store of drinking water which Hiccup then began lapping at.
There was nothing else that he had to do in the house this morning, and he had some responsibilities to attend to in the Great Hall. It would also be very good to have some time to think about everything that had happened and that he needed to do.
After all, it is not every day that a dead son reappears as a baby dragon.
"I have some stuff... I have to do in the village. Will you be ok staying here for a few hours? It is very cold right now, and I don't want you getting cold out there."
Hiccup looked up from drinking and cleaning himself off and grumbled as if to say "Of course I'll be fine."
"Ok, I'll be back and… uh, stay here, inside."
Hiccup rolled his eyes and groaned, but he also smiled at his father's protectiveness.
Stoick put on his heavy coat and paused at the door before opening it. He looked back at Hiccup with an expression somewhere between relief, anguish, and yearning. It looked as though he wanted to embrace Hiccup again to reassure himself that Hiccup was actually there. He almost took a step toward Hiccup, but he paused and turned away without making a sound. The door opened and a gust of frigid air rushed through the house as Stoick's cape whipped through the door frame and out into the winter air.
Hiccup was rather perplexed at what just happened.
That was odd, what was that about?
After a couple of moments though he decided that it wasn't very important. Of course his father would be confused since he just found out that his son was not actually dead and was now alive as a dragon. It would be a lot to take in.
His dad had said that he would find a way to make him human again, and he was sure that it was possible. After all, one truly incredible thing had already happened to him so why not another?
"Hiccup..." Toothless called out and interrupted his thoughts.
Toothless looked up from the cup and dipped a paw in the water.
"Water."
He then took several welcome sips of water and looked back up to Hiccup.
"Drink."
"Water, drink" Hiccup repeated and easily committed the words to memory. He was once again surprised how easily all these strange words and sounds came to mind. Maybe dragons were actually good with language, though he still thought that unlikely. Maybe it is because their babies learn faster.
Who knows? I wonder if Toothless knows what happened to both of us.
It was certainly possible, but he had no way to ask right now. He needed to learn more words first.
Toothless finished the last bit of the fish and turned to Hiccup with a very satisfied look now that he had a full belly. Now that the sire had left, he was very eager to explore the inside of the two-leg cave. He jumped off the table and fully stretched out his wings to glide to the ground. It would be a very long time before he could even try flying, but the sooner he started practicing the better.
"Hiccup, is this your nest?"
Hiccup thought that Toothless was interested in his home since he was looking around at the surroundings. This gave him an idea: he could show Toothless his room. Presumably, their room now. If it was still his room that is.
I'll have to talk dad into letting Toothless stay in my room.
"Toothless."
Hiccup jumped down from the table, much more successfully than the first time, and beckoned with a nod toward his room.
Not much looked like it had changed. The same animal pelts hung on the wall and the same clutter lined the hall. If anything, everything looked a bit shabbier than he remembered it. Not that any Nordic home could be said to be neat of course, but his dad had never been exceptionally messy before.
Strangely, the door to his room was cracked open. It was a good thing too since Hiccup only then realized that he had no way to open the door otherwise. He had no idea what to expect inside.
He nosed through the door and stood still in the doorway. His room looked exactly as it had been when he had left it many months ago on the way to the training ring. The same pile of contraptions, metalwork, and papers cluttered the corners of the room, the clothes were strewn about as they had always been, and the bed was a complete disaster.
While Hiccup stood motionless and lost in his thoughts, Toothless was positively giddy with excitement. He jumped into the place and began nosing and pawing at everything in reach. The entire place smelled of Hiccup! At least, it smelled of two-leg Hiccup and only faintly at that, but still it was unmistakable.
"I like your cave, Hiccup!"
While Toothless was busy inspecting his surroundings, Hiccup was staring up at the bed. His goal right now was to get up to his desk to see if his journal was still where he had left it. That required that he get on top of the bed to be able to jump onto the desk. If he could get to his notebook and find a pencil, he might be able to figure out how to write properly, assuming that it was physically possible now.
The best way to get up seemed to be to climb up the blankets that were hanging off the side of the bed. He looked at his claws and wished that they were slightly sharper to help him climb.
Well, here goes nothing.
With a great leap, Hiccup was able to grab on to the sheets, though he had to use his teeth at one point, and was able to pull himself up over the edge. It was a success on the first try even if he did rip the blanket slightly.
Ha, I think I have jumping figured out now.
He looked at the messy blankets and, despite his purpose in coming up here, found the temptation to be too great. He nuzzled underneath them and burrowed on his belly until he was mostly buried. He had to consciously tuck his wings against his side to prevent them from getting caught in the blankets. It was still a very strange sensation to be using formerly non-existent muscles to control his wings and to do so completely naturally.
The scratchy wool of the blankets felt a bit different to him, most likely because of his different skin. It was also a bit cold in the bed, but the same could be said for the entire house except the area around the fireplace. Still, the action of snuggling under the blankets was comforting. It brought back memories of lazy, rainy mornings with nothing to do and no responsibilities before everything in his life had started going downhill.
Something tickled his tail.
What!
He turned around under the blankets and his tail followed the rest of him inside his hideout. He looked out and did not see anything.
"Toothless?"
There was no response.
Every sense tingling, he inched his way forward towards the edge of the bed. The presence was not directly felt but Hiccup somehow knew that something was above him. He looked up directly into green eyes not an inch from his own and smelled a huff of fishy breath directly in his face. It was startling enough that he squawked in surprise. Toothless laughed at him.
How is he so sneaky? I didn't even feel him get up on the bed.
Hiccup rose to his feet, and the blankets on his head rose with him. He slowly wiggled out from under the blankets and walked over to the head of his bed. There was a bit of a gap between the bed and the desk. He would have to jump. He braced his legs on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and pushed off. He successfully landed on the desk and managed to not knock anything off it as well.
His notebook was not evidently there.
Maybe it is in the drawer.
How to open the drawer though? He needed some way to reach over the precipice and pull the drawer away from the desk. His tail twitched slightly as he searched for the solution.
His tail.
He turned to the side, draped his tail over the side of the desk, and wrapped it around the drawer handle. He was surprised at how strong the tail seemed to be and at how easily he was able to slide the drawer a couple inches open. From there he was able to pry it open with his paws. Then he remembered that Toothless was able to sleep in the cove while hanging in a tree with just his tail.
A quick peek inside the drawer showed that it was empty. His notebook was missing.
Oh well, Dad must have moved it somewhere.
"Hiccup!"
He looked over to where Toothless was standing in a corner with his nose in a stack of papers. What had he left over there? Those look like…
My drawings!
He jumped back onto the bed and then onto the floor. He walked over next to Toothless and saw the pictures which he was so interested in. They were the drawings that he had made of Toothless in the weeks after they had met and encountered each other in the cove. He had drawn Toothless in all manner of poses. The sleeping Toothless with his head partially hidden under his tailfin, the curious Toothless with his wide-open eyes, nosing and pawing at the saddle and other strange things he brought with him, the angry Toothless with his teeth bared and ears slanted back, and the hungry Toothless munching on a pile of cod. Also included was his own impression of what they looked like flying together over Berk.
It was unlike anything Toothless had ever seen before. Well, not quite. Hiccup had made dirt-pictures in the cove, but this was much more detailed. Seeing what was clearly a depiction of himself from how the kin had only one tailfin was an incredible experience since he knew that the drawing was made by Hiccup. He turned to Hiccup, smiled, and placed a foot on one of the pictures.
"This is me!"
Hiccup bobbed his head in agreement.
"Yes. Toothless."
Then his ears went up as an idea came to his mind. There was a specific word that he really wanted to learn how to say. He cocked his head to the side and warbled questioningly.
"Toothless fish no. Hiccup fish no. Toothless Hiccup?"
He put a paw on the picture.
"Fish no."
Toothless was very confused at first. Of course he and Hiccup were not fish. Then he realized that Hiccup was trying to figure out what they were called.
"Kin, we are kin."
"Kin," Hiccup repeated. Then he looked at Toothless while raising a paw to his own chest and asked the question that had been on his mind since he woke up yesterday.
"Hiccup no kin?"
Toothless's ears drooped, and he grumbled in frustration. Hiccup was asking why he was a kin and not a two-leg. How could he possibly explain it to Hiccup when he didn't fully understand it himself?
He hung his head. It would be a while before Hiccup understood enough for him to even begin explaining. The life-will-power that he had used was long since gone. He couldn't even remember what it felt like.
He finally looked up at Hiccup and shook his head to tell him that he had no way to explain it. He was also very afraid of what Hiccup would say or do when he found out who was responsible for what had happened to him. Surely Hiccup wouldn't hate him for it, would he?
Hiccup was slightly frustrated at his inability to get the answers he wanted, and he grumbled in annoyance. Still, he knew that he had to keep learning if he wanted to have any chance at understanding his predicament.
A few minutes later, and after much gesturing on both their parts, he learned wings, tail, legs, teeth, and other easy to learn words.
Patient though Toothless was trying to be, being a hatchling meant that he had too much energy to sit still for long.
"We should play!"
He had the perfect game too. Better yet, Hiccup should recognize it since they had played it on several occasions in the cove. It normally ended up with him sitting on Hiccup or with Hiccup in the lake after being caught, which he was sure Hiccup thoroughly enjoyed from how he screamed when being tossed through the air.
Toothless crouched low to the ground, raised a paw, and nudged Hiccup's shoulder before quickly backing off a few feet.
Hiccup glanced back at Toothless in confusion.
What, Toothless?
Then he noticed Toothless's posture, low to the ground with narrowed eyes trained on him and a slightly twitching tail. Ready to pounce.
Oh no.
Somehow, he saw when Toothless's weight began to shift as he began to push off with his hind legs. Hiccup narrowly dodged the leap by throwing himself to the side. He took advantage of the brief moment when Toothless was off-balance to bound out the door and down the hall as fast as he could. He could hear footfalls getting closer behind him every second.
How is he so fast?
He was about to turn the corner and jump into the living room when something vice-like clamped onto his tail and he was brought to a sudden halt. He glanced over his shoulder and what he saw did at least make him chuckle.
Toothless, looking very smug, had his tail in his mouth. He playfully wrestled with it and gnawed on it before letting go.
"Easy, now you."
Hiccup was thoroughly confused. Why was Toothless so much faster than him? Sure, Toothless is much better at being a dragon because he is meant to be one. Still, it did not explain why Toothless was so much faster at simply running.
Toothless noticed that Hiccup seemed confused about how he had been caught so easily.
"Look."
He ruffled his wings and let them droop at his side while also letting his tail drag on the ground.
"No."
He then tucked his wings close to his side and held his tail more off the ground except for its very tip.
"Yes."
Hiccup nodded once in understanding and made the needed adjustments.
Ah, well, I forgot about those. Those were hard to run with.
Hiccup made one more discovery about himself in doing so. Despite being very whippy, his tail was very strong. He could hold its entire length above the ground without it even feeling uncomfortable. Actually, it was not at all odd now that he thought about it since the tail had such an important role in controlling flight.
But pondering the mechanics of flight could wait.
"Hiccup Toothless play?" Hiccup growled.
So saying, Hiccup reached forward with a paw and gave Toothless a shove and a brief head-start before bounding into the living room. Toothless's eyes gleamed with mirth as he bounded after him.
"Yes, we play."
Their delighted squeals and playful growls echoed through the halls of the formerly-silent house.
Stoick trudged through the snow on his way to Gobber's house. It was located right next to the forge so that Gobber's peg-leg would not overly hinder his ability to get to work. For the first time since winter set in, Stoick did not notice the biting chill in the air. His mind was consumed with one recurring thought.
My son is a dragon… My son is a dragon…
At first, he had been absolutely elated that his son was still alive. It was far more than he could have ever hoped for. However, the moment that he had seen Hiccup be unable to eat like a person should be able to had changed his sentiments. It was completely unnatural.
At least if Hiccup was truly dead, he would have been seated at the Table of Kings in Valhalla for his brave deeds. He would have merited the greatest glory a Nord could hope for in life. But now…
His son was trapped in an alien body and completely unable to do the things he was supposed to do. There was no way that Hiccup could be his heir and become Chief. He could not be wedded, as was the custom, to produce an heir. It would be the end of the Haddock name, of his own line.
Worse, he was not even sure that Hiccup would have a chance to please the gods now and earn either Valhalla or the Folkvangr Fields. He could be condemned to whatever fate awaited the dragons and other mere beasts when they pass on.
He had to find a way to get his son back for both their sakes.
There was smoke rising from Gobber's chimney.
Ah, he must be awake.
Knock. Knock.
He waited a moment for Gobber to answer the front door. While waiting, it struck him that he had no idea what Gobber did in his spare time now. What was there to do when cooped up in the house during the winter?
He heard the lock unlatch, and the door swung open inwards a moment later. What greeted him was a most peculiar sight. Gobber stood there completely shirtless with a leather-bound book in his good hand.
Stoick closed his eyes at the sight of his childhood friend's expansive belly, which was even greater now than he could ever remember it having been, and tried to pass the action off as being because of the cold.
"Ah, good morning, Stoick. What brings ye to my humble abode so early in the morning?"
You have no idea…
"May I come in, Gobber?"
"Oh, of course. Come in and make yerself at home. I'm afraid I don't have anything fer ya to munch on though."
"I'm not hungry, I already ate. I could do with a drink."
"Now that I can help you with."
They seated themselves across from each other at the table. Though he did not have any food on hand, Gobber always kept a readily-available stock of ale. He poured them both a mug, one of which Stoick accepted with a nod of thanks.
They took a long swig and then turned to look at each other again.
"So, Chief, what's on yer mind? I doubt ya came all this way just fer my drink."
Stoick waved a hand at him.
"No, I'm just Stoick today."
"Oh, excellent. So, what's on yer mind, my old friend?"
"Have you ever… have you ever wanted something that seemed completely impossible, which you knew is somehow possible, but you had no idea how to make it happen?"
Gobber only raised a single eyebrow at him.
"I mean, if it was something truly important to you. Imagine, what if Val were still alive somewhere in the world and I knew where she was, but I knew of no way to get to her."
Gobber's eyes narrowed on him.
"Stoick, I don' like where ye'r going with this. If this is about Hiccup…"
Stoick closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
"No Gobber, I promise you that I am not… grieving… for Hiccup. It is a simple question. Perhaps a different question… Ok, what is the most important rule of being a Chief?"
"That ya protect those ye'r responsible fer."
"Yes, a Chief protects his own. A father is supposed to do the same for his own, for his family. What if you had never had your 'accident' and had been able to have a family of your own? What would you do in that case I told you about, the one with Val?"
Stoick rested both of his arms on the table and stared intently at Gobber.
"Is there anything that a good father would not do for his family?"
Gobber waited a moment in silent thought.
"Well, if I knew that someone I loved was alive as ya said, I guess I'd do everything possible ta get them back."
"What about something impossible?"
Gobber's mouth hung open for a moment in complete confusion.
"Eh… you sure that this is your first mug today?"
Stoick actually chucked. Gobber did so as well and realized that he had not heard him come even close to laughing since… it happened all those months ago.
"Aye, I'm sure. You are right, forget I mentioned it. I've just had a lot to think about today."
"What has put ya in such a mood?"
"Well, uh, the egg… it finally… hatched."
Gobber's mouth fell open again and this time it stayed open while his eyes went wide as well.
"Why didn't ya say so sooner! Congratulations Stoick, ye'v got yer own dragon now!"
"Gobber…"
"I can see it now, ye'r going ta learn how to train your dragon, the only Night Fury."
"Gobber."
"Just imagine it, you're going ta be able ta fly on it and..."
"Gobber!"
Gobber finally went silent. Still, a baby Night Fury! The thought that Berk would be the first village to train a Night Fury was too exciting for the smith to ignore for long. He could not place the strange look on Stoick's face though.
"Sorry, I just got a bit excited. What is the matter, Stoick?"
"There are two of them."
"Eh?"
"There are two Night Furies."
Gobber was dumbfounded and took another swig of his drink.
"But, there was only one egg."
"Yes, and there are two baby Night Furies eating fish right now back at my house."
"Wow Stoick, that's amazing. Ye'r really lucky ya know."
"Sure."
"Ya don't seem very excited fer someone who just got two baby Night Furies of yer own. What's the matter?"
Stoick tapped his fingers on the table and opened his mouth several times to speak but always paused before saying anything. Gobber spoke up before him.
"No, don't say anything. I got it. You're not sure how to raise them right. Well, don't you worry, I'll be able to help with anything ye need. Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I think I know some stuff that should help with them."
"Thanks Gobber. Somehow, I doubt that I'll have much trouble with these… hatchlings."
Gobber almost made a witty remark to tease Stoick about his misadventures when raising Hiccup, but decided against it. He did not completely lack any sense of propriety.
"Well, if you want advice when they start chewing on stuff or making messes, just let me know."
"Aye, I will."
Stoick glanced at the half-full mug, grabbed it, and raised it in the air again. Gobber followed suit, and they briefly nodded to each other before downing the remainder of their ales.
"Stoick, ya don't think I could see them sometime soon, do ye?"
Stoick visibly stiffened for a moment before replying.
"I mean, they are the only Night Furies we know of. None of the riders have seen another one."
"Sure, Gobber. You have to come by in the afternoon though. I will be in the Hall this morning and I need to refill my stock of fish afterwards."
"That's fine by me. I'll just get back ta my book in the meantime."
"What are you reading by the way? I didn't know that you liked to read."
"Neither did I... But last year Johan brought some books about smithing from his ventures farther south. With the dragons not fighting us anymore, there is a lot more trade happening up here now. I'm also learning how to knit."
Stoick blinked once.
"Wow, never thought I'd hear that one," he muttered.
Gobber raised his arms in exasperation.
"What? It's a necessary life skill."
A thoughtful silence took over. Finally, Stoick broke it with something else that had been on his mind.
"Gobber, what is happening to us?"
"What do ya mean 'what is happening to us'?"
"With the dragons and everything. Everyone agrees that it is good that they are not trying to kill us, but I feel like we are becoming weaker."
"How so?"
"Well, we are not training like we used to. The youth want to learn how to train dragons, not swing a sword or sail a boat or lead a raiding party. We don't…" he gestured towards the forge, "build weapons like we used to. We spent so long fighting the dragons that we stopped raiding the mainland. What are we but a bunch of sheep-herders, fishermen, and dragon-petters on some forsaken island in the middle of nothing? What happens when our enemies come back and no one alive remembers how to hold a spear or block a hammer? How will we protect ourselves?"
"I imagine that the dragons won't like their masters being attacked, will they?" Gobber answered.
Stoick slammed his fist on the table.
"But that is exactly my point! It would not be us defending ourselves. It would be the beasts defending us. It is not our way to rely on anyone… anything else. How can any of us get into Valhalla if there are no battles to win? If we forget how to be warriors."
Gobber frowned.
"Ya actually sound like yer disappointed that we have peace right now. And don't ya worry, there will always be battles to fight. So what if we start using dragons to fight for us instead of just using our own tools? Surely ya agree that it takes guts ta train these beasts. It is not the same as charging at an army with only yer axe, but it is still courage all the same."
Stoick slumped back into his chair and softly sighed.
"So much has changed Gobber. Even more than you know. I don't know that all of us can change with it or that it is all a good thing."
"Well, don't worry about it. What will change, will change. It's as simple as that. Ya might as well beat your head against that rock from the story that ya told me about if ya cannot accept that. I'm sure glad that I don't have ta worry about my house getting torched while I'm in it or getting carried off."
"Yeah, as if that could happen," Stoick waved a hand in the direction of Gobber's belly.
"Exactly, it's my last line o' defense," Gobber replied with a chuckle.
"Yes, I'm sure that is the reason for it," Stoick just shook his head and rose from the table. It was so like Gobber to make such a jest. Gobber also stood up and saw him to the door.
"Well, I'll see you later then Gobber."
"Aye, good talk. I'll probably come ta the Hall for some grub. Can't wait to see yer new arrivals though."
Stoick nodded and stepped out into the gap in the snowbank. Gobber shut the door, and Stoick wrapped his coat tightly about himself against the chilling breeze as he set off towards the Hall.
I'm going to need to talk to Hiccup before Gobber comes over. Can't have him letting Gobber know what happened.