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Chapter 11: A Clean Start

(Hiccup)

"I said I'm fine!" Hiccup gestured to himself, then jumped on the spot. The soft grass in the glade outside their cave was still slick from the fallen rain under his boots, but a morning sun was finally gracing their nameless island.

"See?"

Toothless did not look convinced. He eyed him suspiciously, pacing around him like a predator does its prey. He produced tiny concerned growls, then louder, angrier ones, puffing small clouds of smoke from his nostrils.

"Why are you pouting?" Hiccup complained. "I told you I'd be fine! The fever is gone like I promised. Look!" He spun around in a spectacle of healthy Viking-ness.

Toothless did not seem amused by the performance. Had he really been so worried?

In the past, Hiccup had suffered plenty of fevers. His mother had always taken care of him when he'd been very little, and, after her death, whenever those days came, it was Gobber or Helga who would occasionally come to check on him at Stoick's behest. His father, being the chief of the village, did not have the time to care for him when he became ill. Besides, Stoick had never seemed to enjoy spending time at home.

Hiccup had hence gotten used to looking after himself during fevers or colds, for they had been quite common occurrences, and, since concern for someone's affliction was rarely dispensed among real Vikings (for, like pity, it was sure to offend), Hiccup had never demanded or expected much attention during those times. He had certainly not expected the dragon to fret much over it.

Besides, I told him not to worry about me. He thought, trying to fend off an uncomfortable feeling; it was almost like guilt, but why would he feel guilty?

"Alright, alright, but I'm really fine now. Here, look…"

In a playful, yet awkward attempt to lighten the mood, Hiccup punched the dragon's jaw to show off his recovered strength.

"Aha! Take that Snotlout!" He said, pretending to fight the imaginary opponent, or, more accurately, pretending to pretend to fight, since he had no actual experience with hand-to-hand combat, besides being occasionally shoved around.

Toothless barely budged behind his weak jabs. It did not look like the dragon was enjoying his antics in the least.

The playful activity was put to an abrupt end when Toothless, teeth fully unsheathed, let out an ear-shattering roar.

Hiccup fell on his back, covering his ears with his hands and instinctively raising his elbows in defense. He had not expected that reaction, and, for a terrifying moment, he thought his friend had transformed into the kind of beast that all Vikings believed dragons to be.

"I'm sorry," Hiccup blurted out hastily, cowering on the ground. For the first time since the day they had first met, Hiccup felt small before the dragon's angry form, defenseless.

I probably deserved that, Hiccup thought, finally recognizing the source of that unpleasant feeling of guilt.

Toothless could not have known about his rather frequent fevers, or how dangerous they were. The crippled dragon had most likely been fearing for his own life too, unable to fly without a rider.

I definitely deserved that.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," Hiccup lowered his hands warily. "I just get sick sometimes. I didn't mean to scare you."

He did not move from his spot on the ground, still unsure whether his words had actually reached his friend, or whether the dragon before him had become as feral as a pack of wild, angry boars.

"Bud?" He murmured, his legs shaky with a mixture of fear and lack of strength, which he hadn't fully regained yet.

Toothless' eyes softened after a few blinks. He then voiced a soft, apologetic croon, which Hiccup had been breathlessly waiting for. The dragon approached him as he lay on the soft grass, and finally nuzzled his chest.

Hiccup felt relief spread across his limbs at the warm touch. Why he had been so reluctant to apologize in the first place, however, he could not recall.

"I didn't think you cared so much, you know?" He said, caressing the dragon's head. "I mean… you stood by my side for two days, you brought me food, you kept cooling my head... Thank you, bud."

Toothless purred and pressed his muzzle into Hiccup's chest again. Then, in a fit of glee, the dragon began licking him. First, he lapped his chin, then his entire face. Hiccup could only try to fight his way out of the dragon's overly-affectionate grasp.

"Toothless! S-stop! Aaah!" Hiccup wailed uselessly, though he couldn't help laughing too as the dragon's large tongue coated him with thick layers of drool. "No- Stop- Please, Tooth-!" He suddenly coughed, which made Toothless interrupt his display of affection, allowing Hiccup to stand up.

"Eeew! It's in my mouth!" Hiccup cried and coughed again, trying to spit out all the dragon saliva that he had managed not to swallow by mistake.

He then produced a revolted grunt, and scraped off the excess slime from his face with his hands, which he wiped on dragon's own snout, catching Toothless by surprise.

"There. Serves you right." He said smugly, failing to hide the smirk on his lips.

Toothless frowned, but seemed otherwise unfazed by having his own muzzle covered with spit.

With a sigh, Hiccup sat again on the grass, trying to recover from the exhaustion of fighting his much larger friend. He was going to need a few more days before he could consider himself strong enough to leave this island.

As he sat, contentedly observing some small clouds above being herded by the warm southern winds, and for once not thinking about Berk, Hiccup caught a whiff of what he could only describe as a rather unpleasant, though familiar smell.

"Oh, man! I stink like Gobber after a full day at the forge," He exclaimed, sniffing under his own armpits, realizing he had not washed for… how long?

During his last couple of weeks on Berk, the troubling thoughts of abandoning the island had made him forget and skip the customary activity of Laugardagr, the weekly Day of Washing. This meant he had not washed properly for no less than fourteen days, perhaps even more.

"Toothless, I seriously need a bath, bud. I reek like a yak!"

Despite the saying that outcasts were supposed to never bathe, Hiccup was not willing to abide by such rule. He did not want to stink, even as an outcast.

Toothless approached him with an eager, gummy smile, his forked tongue readily lolling out.

"No, no, no…! Enough dragon spit! I mean it. Stay. Put. There." Hiccup commanded in his most authoritative tone, pointing a single prohibitive finger towards his friend, and trying his best not to smile as he did so. "Humans wash with fresh water, not spit." He explained.

Toothless retracted his tongue with an unhappy warble. Then, sniffing the air, the dragon began to look around with a thoughtful frown.

"What is it?" Hiccup asked, then groaned: "Oh, please don't tell me there's someone else on this island!" He was too tired to pull off another hurried escape like the one on Meathead island.

The dragon shook his head, but he gestured with his shoulders for Hiccup to get on him.

"Want to fly? Now? But I just removed your fin, I thought it was starting to chafe."

Toothless shook his head again.

"I don't get it," Hiccup said, grimacing.

A low warbling noise and a soft bark were the only responses he received.

"You know, sometimes I really wish you could speak, bud. It would make everything so much easier."

The dragon rolled his eyes. He then approached a lingering puddle of muddy rainwater, and splashed his paws in it, casting a meaningful look towards Hiccup. He did it again and again until Hiccup thought he understood.

"Oh, you mean water! You think there's a river or something?"

Toothless nodded twice.

Hiccup gladly accepted the suggestion, and, after grabbing some of his effects, he allowed his friend to carry him on his shoulders. Toothless wasn't wearing his saddle or tailfin, so he just trotted into the unburnt patches of forest, towards what Hiccup believed was the sea's direction. Hiccup could not recall the island's layout, as they had landed during the night, in the company of an early summer storm.

They soon emerged from the treeline to the sight of a small valley, which descended gradually towards the sea-shore. It was not just the usual valley, though. Where Hiccup expected to see grass or moss or mud, the strange patch of land was dressed all in waves of white. Hiccup slid off the dragon's back, eyes wide, then leaned to feel the surprisingly solid floor. At first glance, it looked almost like snow, but it was actually a very light-grey kind of rock, smooth and dusty to the touch, like pumice stone or chalk, only denser, harder.

The whole valley was uneven, molded by rain and wind to form gentle hills and bumps, pits and craters, some small as basins, others big as the lake in the cove near Raven Point. They were all made from this kind of pale rock, connected smoothly like dunes of sand on a beach, but rigid, and apparently impermeable too, for rainwater appeared to have filled all the smooth craters to the brim, creating dozens of small interconnected lakes.

As Hiccup looked around, he noticed a very narrow stream emerging from the forest to their far left, pouring even more water into those lakes, which in turn spilled over into the lower ones, and so on, until they reached the sea.

"Whoa… Look at this place," Hiccup murmured to himself. "Do you think it's because of the volcano? Is this like… white lava?"

Toothless shrugged absently.

"Aren't you supposed to know about volcanoes? In the Book of Dragons, Bork says that dragons like to stay near live volcanoes. Don't they?"

After a small pensive silence, the Night Fury gave another noncommittal shrug.

"You don't know? How could you not know? Aren't you at all like the other dragons?"

Toothless scowled and huffed, offended. He then straightened his pose to a more dignified one, his expression smug, head held high, eyelids lowered lazily. In that stance, the dragon looked like an elegant statue carved in black stone. No matter what anyone could say, Night Furies were truly beautiful creatures, and this one clearly knew it.

"Yeah, of course not," Hiccup said with a scornful look. "You are the bestest of the best. The greatest dragon that ever was or will be."

Toothless ignored the heavy sarcasm behind those words, nodding solemnly, accepting even that derisive form of flattery. Hiccup could not tell whether Toothless was being ironic himself, but he already knew that the Night Fury before him was by no means a humble one. At least on the outside, for as Hiccup would sometimes notice, the dragon's eyes seemed to hide a rather different story.

Hiccup approached one of the largest pools, and probed the water with his fingers. The pumice-like floor sloped gradually to a substantial depth, but Hiccup could still see the clear bottom at the center of the pool, filtered through pale-blue colors, rippling as his hand disturbed the surface. The water wasn't freezing, but it was still quite cold to the touch.

Hiccup laid down his clean clothes. He began undressing, before remembering that Toothless was still there. He turned around.

"Hey, bud, listen, can you… could you…" He trailed off. How was he going to explain? He didn't even know whether he should. After all, wasn't Toothless only a dragon? He was that, of course, yet Hiccup had enough proof that Night Furies, and perhaps many more dragons, were just as intelligent, and just as sentient as humans. So, try as he might, Hiccup felt he could not subdue his pathological shyness, even before his best and only friend.

He sometimes cursed himself for that stupid affliction, but he had yet to learn to fight it, not to mention overcome it. Besides, Hiccup had never been forced to. He had never had to wash in Berk's common bathhouse before, and he had always dreaded the idea, partly because he didn't want anyone to have definitive proof that, behind those oversized clothes and voluminous fur coat, he was undoubtedly the scrawniest, most pitiful creature in the Barbaric Archipelago.

Much to Hiccup's relief, the chief's house was furnished with a rather luxurious round wooden bathtub, as well as a private outhouse. Behind a large drape, at the back of his noble abode, Hiccup had gotten used to an uncommon amount of privacy for Viking standards. In fact, he could almost consider that tub as his very own, since his father preferred going to the bathhouse, for he wouldn't have to waste time with heating the water, and he could instead use the occasion to further discuss matters of great import with the other men and women of the village. (Stoick the Vast never stopped working, even on Laugardagr.) Still, the man had tried to bring Hiccup along a few times, but Hiccup had always come up with some excuse not to go.

This way, Hiccup had also been able to afford to warm the water as he pleased, for he had the time and freedom to heat as many rocks over the hearth as he wanted, to then drop into the tub. He did not even need to get the water himself. On every day of Laugardagr, the tub was filled anew from the nearby well by the occasional boys, who had the honour to perform small daily tasks for the chief, like delivering messages, or bringing whatever the chief required. There were no slaves on Berk, but the chief did have plenty of hands at his disposal.

At the back of his mind, not without a pang of melancholy, Hiccup wondered if he would ever be able to enjoy that kind of luxury again, or if he was destined to wash in cold ponds and rivers for the rest of his life. The possibility of heating the water with scalding rocks was definitely not an option now, and, come winter, even the ponds would be too cold for washing.

"Can you go back to our camp while I wash myself?" Hiccup finally asked, scratching the back of his neck.

Toothless tilted his head, perplexed.

"Please? I'll come back when I'm done. I promise. I know the way."

The dragon's expression changed. He crooned questioningly, edging closer, instead of going away as he'd been asked.

"No… I- I'd really rather wash alone. I'll be fine by myself. Please?"

Toothless was clearly unhappy with the prospect of leaving him on his own, and he probably couldn't begin to understand the ridiculous reasons behind such an unusual request, but he still slid back into the forest, producing petulant little whimpers.

While the apprehensive dragon had always had the tact and consideration not to follow Hiccup whenever he had to relieve himself (something Hiccup was incredibly grateful for), undressing and bathing in water were not activities with which the Night Fury was familiar, so it was likely that Toothless was also curious. Hiccup felt bad for the dragon, but he was going to find a way to make it up to him later.

"I won't be long!" He shouted as his friend left.

Once he was sure he was alone, Hiccup stripped completely, and trod with hesitant steps into the water, resisting the urge to shiver. When he was waist-deep into the lake, he decided to plunge with the rest of his body, so as not to extend his suffering. He yelped from the cold before diving in completely, holding what air was left inside his lungs. With his hands, he vigorously scrubbed his hair underwater, hoping to wash away most of the dirt and grime.

Once out of breath, Hiccup emerged. He had almost gotten used to the chill, and he was beginning to enjoy his bath, when, as he reopened his eyes, he found himself face to face with a black, reptilian muzzle.

A shriek escaped his mouth. He launched himself backwards, into slightly deeper waters, trying to hide what he could with both hands.

"Toothless! What-?! Go away!" Hiccup shouted, praying the water provided at least his lower half with enough cover.

He quickly realized his cold-induced yelp had reached the Night Fury's sensitive ears, and the dragon had rushed back, thinking it a call for help.

"I'm fine. Go away."

Toothless warbled, scanning Hiccup's naked figure with obvious concern.

"Oh come on." Hiccup lifted only one arm to wave his friend away as he yelled: "Shoo! Shoo!"

When Toothless felt reassured about his rider's health, he slouched his way back into the forest, without even trying to hide the expression of inexplicable rejection from his face.

Worrying about the amount of pampering this was going to cost him, Hiccup resumed his activity, using a piece of rough cloth to rub his skin with some of the soap he had incidentally found in his belongings. Inside a hidden pocket within Gobber's leather mustache-care kit, Hiccup had discovered a few shards of strong soap, of the kind Vikings used both to clean, but also to lighten their hair, for that soap, if used often enough, had a valuable bleaching effect. It was by no means a secret that Gobber, like many other villagers, enjoyed his mustache braids brightly blonde.

As Hiccup scrubbed himself, he could not avoid noticing a few, timid, yet encouraging changes; truth was, Hiccup would regularly examine his body during Laugardagr, praying for those very changes. He felt an unnecessary amount of surprise, and perhaps pride, when he thought he could see a few new, incredibly faint, but still somewhat noticeable strands of pale-auburn armpit hair. Perhaps he could have one day become a Hairy Hooligan worthy of the name, he thought, if only he had managed to stay on Berk a little longer.

A few more hairs here and there, however, were no great consolation before his much too evident gauntness. In fact, he looked thinner and bonier than ever.

Is this why Toothless keeps barfing freshly caught fish on me as often as he can? He also wanted me to eat three whole rabbits the other day; he knows I can't eat that much.

Hiccup sighed. He needed to take better care of himself. If Toothless' behavior that morning had taught Hiccup anything, it was that he could no longer afford to neglect his own health. The dragon needed him to be strong. Saving the Night Fury from Berk's bloodthirsty villagers had not put an end to Hiccup's commitment towards his friend. In fact, it had only given this responsibility an even more central place in his life. He lived for Toothless' sake now, a notion that he found to be a much nobler source of pride than any, though pleasing, still timid achievement in his slow physical growth.

Hiccup finished bathing, and dried his shivering limbs quickly with another piece of cloth. He then decided to cut his messy hair with Gobber's scissors. He cut it slightly shorter than usual, so it would be more comfortable to fly, without hair getting in his eyes. Yet, Hiccup felt there was also another reason behind that decision, the heart of which eluded him. He still went through with the slightly different look, almost on a whim.

Once he was done, and not one moment later, Hiccup caught a faint ruffling noise coming from behind the treeline.

He sighed. At least he was wearing his clean smallclothes. Asking for further privacy would have likely been pointless now that he and the dragon were living together.

"Come out, Toothless. I know you are there."

The Night Fury's black head sprung from behind a bush, shooting small leaves in every direction. Then, the dragon happily trotted to where Hiccup was sitting, gathering his belongings. Toothless began sniffling Hiccup curiously, from his wet hair to his bare toes.

"Yeah, I smell better now, don't I- ah! Tickles!" Hiccup giggled, feeling the dragon's warm breath on his skin.

Toothless produced an unexpected growl at some unwelcome sight.

"What? Oh... that." Hiccup found the scar that trailed his left side, just below the lowest rib bone. It was no more than the length of a finger, but it had been deep. "That's from… when… I fell. In the stream," he half-lied. He had actually been thrown by Snotlout and Tuffnut on the day of his tenth birthday.

The two boys had said it was meant to celebrate him, and they had added that they didn't know the water would be so shallow. They had most likely been honest about the last part, and perhaps even the first, much to Hiccup's bafflement. He could never understand what the other boys were actually thinking, and Hiccup was still somehow convinced that, for that single day, the two boys had truly decided to regard him as one of their own. It still hadn't made the sharp rock in his side any less painful, nor the fact that the event had gone relatively unnoticed within the village any easier to swallow.

Stoick had been furious of course, but with whom, Hiccup was not sure. Hidden underneath a facade of proper worry, Hiccup could often perceive Stoick's silent disapproval. Part of Hiccup had always suspected his father to resent him whenever he got hurt, even when it wasn't his fault, or perhaps especially on those occasions. A man could get hurt by himself, but when another man was the offender, retaliation was a Viking's prerogative and obligation, possibly of the kind involving fists. At least, that's what Stoick seemed to want his son to learn: to be more like a Viking. Hiccup had tried, of course, but his fists had never yielded the desired effect.

And yet, as a contradiction to that very lesson, Stoick had preferred not to make a fuss about the accident that day. Maybe he had preferred to avoid upsetting his rather uncertain relationship with Snotlout's father, Spitelout. Despite his strength and might, and with only few exceptions, diplomacy was always a priority in Stoick's mind, which was one of the reasons Berk had almost entirely forgotten what a blood-feud was.

This was actually one of the things Hiccup admired about his father, so he hadn't complained, but he had yet to understand why he was expected to act more like a Viking himself, when 'un-Vikingness' was clearly one of his father's most effective tools as a chief. Hiccup was sure he was alone in seeing that contradiction.

So Hiccup felt no bitterness at the two boys' lack of punishment. He still suspected that, somewhere deep inside, both Snotlout and Tuffnut had actually felt some remorse for hurting him so gravely, although, like proper Vikings, they had never shown even a glimpse of it.

They had still come to visit him afterwards, as he was recovering in his bed after being sewn closed by Gothi, and Snotlout had even asked whether he was going to need to take over as chief one day, because, as the burly boy had put it: 'it would be a bit of a hassle'. He'd said it most likely in jest, Hiccup was sure, but that was still the closest thing to an apology he had ever gotten from his second cousin.

Funny how the worst scar I have is from their attempt to be friendly. Maybe that's what being friendly means to real Vikings, Hiccup thought, as he often would, and once again found that notion tough to accept.

Of course, not a few weeks after the accident, his relationship with both boys had reverted to what it had always been. He was the 'village hiccup', after all. Hiccup had still decided to forgive them, wanting to believe that, for once, their intent had been a well-meaning one. It may not have mattered now that he was an outcast, but Hiccup didn't want Toothless to feel otherwise about them, at least in regards to that scar.

"Don't worry about it." He said, before getting fully dressed, and heading back to the cave with Toothless, all the while thinking about their next destination. A safe place for him and Toothless. A place to call their own.

Their departure was going to wait a while, however. For now, Hiccup had to recover completely. Hence, he decided to spend that afternoon, and the next couple of afternoons too, snugly resting by his best friend's side, occasionally taking to the skies, and thoroughly enjoying the precious sun of the first balmy days of May.


They broke their fast with fresh salmon, which Toothless had graciously caught (without swallowing it, as instructed), and which Hiccup was now cooking over a small fire. The dragon had already eaten his fill, and was now observing Hiccup's activity with interest, his head laying on his crossed paws.

"You know, I'm going to have to learn how to hunt for myself at some point," Hiccup said, before rotating the skewered slice of fish he was holding. "I can't keep making you always provide for me."

Toothless groaned in protest. He sounded offended.

"Why not? I'm really glad for your help, but I shouldn't always rely on you for everything, at least not for food. You just need me to fly, but I'm using you for almost everything else. Food, travel, protection… even warmth. It's not fair to you."

Hiccup was determined to learn, sooner or later, how to take care of himself, partly for the dragon's sake, but mostly because, as Astrid had painfully pointed out, he had actually been coddled all his life, at least in regards to the basics of survival.

Toothless was still unconvinced. He produced a series of high to low-pitched warbling noises, which Hiccup was slowly beginning to decipher as some form of disagreement. Hiccup had spent enough time with the dragon to be able to successfully discern (often aided by his friend's vivid facial expressions) most of the sounds for affirmation and denial, direction, calls for attention or alarm, and more.

However, he sometimes could not believe that this was all there was to dragon communication, at least as far as Night Furies were concerned. After all, Toothless had clearly learnt to understand him word for word, so the potential for comprehension of complex languages was obviously there.

"At least, I need to learn how to hunt. I won't change my mind about this," Hiccup stated in his best tone of confidence, "even though I don't think I completely understood what you just said," he added. "Actually… about that. Remember when you woke me up the other day... during my fever?"

Toothless raised his head.

"Well, my fever was so high, that I actually thought I could hear you talk!" Hiccup chuckled.

The dragon raised his head further.

"It was kind of weird; must have been quite a high fever I had. It's been a while since I had any visions during fevers. When I was little, I used to get quite a lot of those, you know? I would see weird things happen. This time I could almost hear a voice, asking me something, and I remember thinking it was you!" Hiccup smiled at the thought. "Then, I think I also saw…" his smile faded "...someone else." He paused, and stared at the palm of his free hand with hopeless contemplation.

"Still, wouldn't that be something... if you could talk."

Hiccup's mind drifted off to recall more of that night's hallucinations, and, as if on cue, his head started to ache again, though this time there was no good reason for it. He tried to ignore the ache, and looked back at Toothless, who was now gaping disturbingly at him, his eyes wide, and the narrow reptilian pupils sharp as knives.

"Something wrong?" Hiccup grimaced, unsettled by the intense glare. "Tooth'? You are scaring me. Are you alright?"

Slowly, a faint, yet uncomfortable noise began buzzing all around him. Hiccup turned to look for the source of the disturbance. The strange sound stopped immediately, and the headache ebbed away too, as if it had never been there. Hiccup looked back at his friend, who had settled his chin on his paws again, and was now gazing at their fire with a dissatisfied air.

"What was that?"

Toothless looked at him sideways, then back to the fire, shrugging casually.

Am I still imagining things? Hiccup wondered, when the smell of burnt fish filled his nostrils.

"Thor's flaming breeches!" Hiccup yelped, yanking away his slice of salmon from the fire. He studied the result. "Well... At least it's not all burned. We'll just say it's well done," he said, then began to take bites of his slightly charred fish right from the skewer.

Fortunately, his meal was not entirely ruined. Yet, while he was able to satisfy his stomach, Hiccup still felt like something was missing from his palate.

"Man... It's barely been a week, and I already miss bread." Hiccup confessed, his mouth watering again at the memory of Helga's warm loaves.

He felt surprise at the fondness with which he recalled the huge woman, since, back on Berk, Hiccup had never particularly enjoyed her. Though kind in her actions, Helga had always been rough and unpleasant in her ways. Even her voice could sometimes boom louder than the chief's. Hiccup had often woken up to the sound of her barging in their home, shrieking:

'HICCUP, ya little muttonhead, COME GET YER DAMN BREAD!'

Stoick was usually already out at that hour, and Hiccup, if he hadn't left for the forge himself, would end up having to climb down the stairs to sleepily thank the woman, who would otherwise keep on screaming.

'Suffering scallops... Can't you leave it on the table?!' Hiccup would yell in response when he was too tired to get up. This had often been his morning throat-clearing exercise.

'Get yer ass outta bed and do something useful FOR FREYA'S SAKE!' She'd yell back, as per routine.

Why she'd always demand that he receive the bread personally, Hiccup could never understand, and sometimes he suspected his father of always leaving early just to avoid her insufferable presence. Nevertheless, Helga's bread was by far the best on the island, so she was the one who had the honor to bake for the chief's house.

"Maybe I can make some bread myself," Hiccup said. "I need barley flour, and a pan... and maybe butter, and…" He bit his lower lip. Those were all goods he could exclusively find in a village.

Toothless stared at him, eyes widening with worry.

"I've got it!" Hiccup exclaimed, triumphant, raising the wooden skewer excitedly, like a warrior would a sword. "We find a deserted island close to a southern village where nobody knows about me. Then, we can fly there before sunrise, so we are sure we can't be seen, and in the morning we can get the stuff we need. Well… I can get the stuff I need. You'll have to stay hidden in the forest. And no making fires. We both remember what happened the last time."

He looked at the dragon for approval.

"Oh, come on. Don't give me that look. If nobody knows about me, there's no reason to worry. We are south enough, the Northern Alliance doesn't reach where we are going, so we won't be meeting any Hairy Hooligans, or Meatheads, or Berserkers. And who's going to notice a little hiccup occasionally visiting a shop or two? This could work! We just need to look for a good place."

Hiccup's thoughts began to drift towards the southern seas, about which he knew either very little, or nothing at all. He felt his heart skip a beat, and a grin form on his face.

"Actually, the weather is great, and we've just eaten." Hiccup jumped to his feet. "You know what? We are leaving right now!"