A/N: EMOTIONAL ANGST WARNING!

I promise this will not be the end of all silliness/fun stuff, but I think it's high time Toothless had some emotional trouble with this whole 'being human' thing, don't you? Because honestly, how would you deal with all of this?

Toothless was growing increasingly tense. It'd been just over two days since Ru had faced him with the choice of what he could or could not share with Hiccup, and it was eating Toothless alive. Even as a human himself now, Toothless didn't pretend to understand what humans thought, how their minds worked. Should he tell Hiccup? If he didn't, what would happen? But if he did…

Toothless distracted himself by thinking more largely of the situation. Bewearft. But what for? Sure, Ru had talked about it in lofty, reverent tones of history and change and on and on, but Toothless sniffed to himself, considering as he often did the irritability of the human nose and shifted his shoulders, wishing, not for the first time, to feel the second pair of shoulders that should hold up his wings. He growled to himself and dug his fingers into his hair.

He hadn't realized it, but when they sent word to the Kindelline weeks ago, he'd been expecting them to show up, not only with answers, but solutions. He'd expected someone to tap him atop the head or something else just as simple, and just be himself again, scales, wings, Norse-less tongue and all. It was a foolish hope, but now that it was denied, now that he was still human and saddled with a heavy choice that brought up thoughts of worry and potential betrayal, his disappointment bubbled up to manifest anger.

He wasn't mad at Hiccup, or Ru, or anyone else, but yet he was mad. He was both mad at nothing and everything, and it showed.

Usually, whenever Hiccup went to the forge or out into the woods to gather wood or herbs, Toothless would follow and enjoy the time together. But now, he just let Hiccup go on alone, so he could spent some silent time with himself and pretend that he wasn't sulking. Hiccup didn't act like he noticed, but Toothless knew he did.

Sometimes he would just watch Hiccup quietly, trying to imagine this wiry, brain-driven human misinterpreting the forces behind the bewearft, trying to shape history with his own hands. Of course Toothless knew it was pointless, but as Ru had said, humans thought in different ways. Who was Toothless to say what Hiccup might do? But then, it was Hiccup. He was practically an extension of Toothless himself. They flew together, talked to each other, explored the world together. But then, that was the problem, Toothless thought. Because how much more leverage would Hiccup have over him, then, even if he decided to conquest parts of the world he was never meant to touch?

Toothless dug his head further down, tucking his knees up to his brow and wanting for a moment to burn his thoughts to ash. Only, of course, he didn't have firebreath anymore.

Hiccup came in the room a little while later, and Toothless had to act like nothing was amiss. The fact that he couldn't even make himself smile was a testament to his inner turmoil.

"Hey, bud," Hiccup said, and Toothless wondered if Hiccup thought he was making the smile look natural, because he was failing, "Fishlegs asked if I wanted to go out with them at the ring today… Um… I mean, I know we can't, er, fly, but it's a nice day out… do you want to come with?"

Toothless shrugged, not wanting to say yes but not wanting to see the heartbreak on Hiccup's face when he said no.

The shrug was interpreted as a yes, and Toothless shared an awkward walk to the arena with his human. He felt incredibly guilty, because he knew all the awkward air was his fault and his fault alone, what with his moodiness the past days and his inability to speak of it to Hiccup. Poor Hiccup, longsuffering Hiccup who really ought to have smacked Toothless upside the head for all of this. It made Toothless feel even worse.

When they got to the ring, Stormfly was the first to badger him about the Kindelline visitor. He made his answers short because he didn't want to talk about it. But they kept on asking him questions, and when he snapped back, it angered them (Hookfang particularly) and that, in turn, made his mood even more sour.

The humans stayed largely on the ground with Hiccup, perhaps out of respect for the fact that Toothless couldn't fly. But after an hour or so, they mounted up and flew in lazy, free patterns around the sky. Astrid landed at one point and asked if Hiccup wanted to take a turn with Stormfly or one of the others. Stormfly chittered in with her own suggestion,

"What about you, Tóðléas?" She smiled at him. Toothless looked up, eyes like a stunned deer.

"M-me?" He stuttered in Norse, and glared darkly. "I'm fine, thanks," And continued brooding.

"Oh, come on, Toothless," Hiccup said kindly, having caught the exchange. "you don't have to be embarrassed, she's trying to be nice." And of course she was, Toothless knew that. But what neither Hiccup nor Stormfly knew, which he had no intention of telling them, is that his human heart fluttered painfully at the thought of flying and falling and high places. He was afraid. And the unnaturalness of it made him want to cry, because he shouldn't be like this. I want to go home, the boyish whine came to mind.

"No," He said shortly, because he didn't want to talk with any of them. Thoughts of humans and dragons and what was natural and what wasn't, thoughts of bewearftas and kindellines and convoluted eastern dragons talking about history and secrets and Hiccup, and he just wanted to get away, but he couldn't say so.

Hiccup had come over and now grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. "Oh come on, it's fun, I promise."

It was a reaction, he would try to tell himself later, just a reaction. Toothless flung his arm and hit Hiccup's hand away, none to gently. "I said no."

Hiccup could see it wasn't just stubbornness, and looked suddenly contrite. "Okay," He said carefully, the shocked hurt in his voice making Toothless simultaneously angrier and guiltier. He looked away.

The other teens were circling in to land, all oblivious to the tense confrontation taking place. Toothless looked up at all of them and wanted to tell their dragons to leave.

"Toothless," Hiccup said softly, making no move to touch him again, although it looked like he wanted to. "what's wrong, bud?"

Toothless' jaw was impossibly tight, and his thoughts had now steeped long enough, it was impossible to pretend. The other teenagers and dragons and crowded into the arena and Toothless almost wanted to cry because he felt himself charging toward his breaking point and the last thing he needed was an audience.

"Nothing," he spat, and it tasted like sour milk.

Hiccup frowned. "That's a lie," He said, quietly in Dragonese so only Toothless would hear. For second, Toothless looked right at him, his gaze trying to communicate his internal panic and his will not to talk about it.

"Hiccup, you coming?" Astrid asked uncertainly. She could see something was amiss, but she wasn't sure what.

"Come on, bud, it'll be fun," Hiccup insisted, and Toothless bristled again. Could he not see? "I know it's not the same, but flying is still pretty great, even as a human."

Human. The word wrung in Toothless' ears, and gave him pause enough to let Hiccup tug lightly on his hand again. When Toothless was forced to step forward, he flung his arm again.

"No!" he said in Dragonese. Hiccup turned.

"What is wrong with you?" He looked hurt, not really angry.

Toothless wanted to say 'nothing' again, but now everyone was looking at them. Astrid, Stormfly, the dragons, the teens. They all looked so confused. Toothless was humiliated. He looked back down to Hiccup.

"I can't," He whispered.

Hiccup crossed his arms. "Why not?"

"I can't!" because really, where would he start?

"Toothless, come on, you're not making any sense,"

"No!" Toothless exclaimed. He was aware of all the eyes on him. Still, he continued on in Dragonese – if they were going to have an audience, at least only half of them would actually understand. "Hiccup, stop, I just… I can't."

Now Hiccup did look angry. Frustrated. "I don't understand," He said flatly.

"No, you don't," Toothless snapped, far harsher than he needed to. Tense thoughts kept inside made his words sting. "You can't, because you're…. you're just…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you think I asked for this?!" Toothless finally snapped, and internally screamed NO at himself because he knew after all these weeks of humanity, his mental capacity to cope had just cracked in half, and the floodgates were aimed right at Hiccup. "Do you think I like this?! Do you think just because you say something is good it makes it so? I'm not a human, Gicpa, I know I look like one, but I'm not - I'm a dragon! A dragon! I want to be myself again, wings and scales! I thought I would have answers but now I don't and I have to decide and-" his eyes suddenly caught on Hiccup's face, which reeked of incomprehension. "But how could you understand?!"

"Toothless," Hiccup said, trying to stay calm even as Toothless exploded in front of them all, "I'm sorry I don't understand… why don't you tell me?"

"I can't," Toothless wailed, because of everything that Ru had said about humans and because of all his own uncertainty. "I can't tell you, don't you see?" Hiccup's expression said that no, he didn't, and Toothless growled at the unfamiliar sense of disconnect with his best friend. "No, of course you don't," he growled in pure frustration, "you're just… you're just a ground-bound, blind-eyed, crippled human, you would never be able to-" But before he could say the last word, their eyes met and Toothless realized what he'd said. His face fell into pure horror. He glanced for a second at all the dragons around him, their eyes wide with shock at the insult. Then he looked back at Hiccup and he wanted the ground to swallow him. Not knowing what else to do, Toothless turned and ran.

Hiccup stood there, looking like he'd been slapped.

Silence reigned. Hiccup didn't move, nor did anyone else. Stormfly was the first to break it, and chittered a quiet,

"Æðelin, I'm sure he didn't meant to-"

Hiccup shook his head, and she quieted.

"Hiccup?" Astrid asked. Unlike the dragons, the Vikings hadn't understood the argument. "…What did he say?" She asked nervously. She could see the pure hurt in Hiccup's face, and knew it must've been bad.

"Nothing," He said quietly, the lie a signal that he didn't want to talk about it. The Vikings looked around at their dragons, who looked serious and perhaps just as shocked as Hiccup, then around at each other.

Quietly, Hiccup turned and looked to where Toothless had fled. His expression unreadable, he quietly left the arena, his prosthetic tapping painfully loud in the silence.

Toothless was the worst, most terrible dragon in the world, and an even worse friend. He growled at the skies and scrubbed at his stupid human cheeks with stupid human tears and that stupid, irritable human nose and contorting face that were soiling his dignity. He stormed into the forest, trying to find any secluded spot where he could… what did he intend to do? There was nothing he could do to fix this. He couldn't turn himself into a dragon, he couldn't make himself calm down, or make a decision about Hiccup. He couldn't turn around and face Hiccup – not after what he'd said, not when he was like this. So in confusion and anger, Toothless eventually sunk down against a tree and discovered that crying could be exhausting.

He was much too occupied, his ears and eyes too clogged to hear the approach. "Master Tóðléas?" Ru's accent was drifting from some point above him. Toothless' immediate reaction was to curl in on himself.

"Oh, skies," he moaned hoarsely. He thought it would be a miracle if Ru could understand him through all the snot and tears, "just leave me alone, please."

Ru didn't move or say anything, his steady breathing didn't even falter. He just came around settled himself beside Toothless, his long body a loose semicircle around where the human-dragon sat. He wasn't even looking at Toothless while he sat, just waiting quietly for the other to calm down.

By the time his sobs had worn out, Toothless wanted nothing more to just pass out into sleep so that he wouldn't have to think about his humiliation in front of Ru or the painful throbbing in his head. But as he dug his head into his knees and enjoyed the darkness, Ru broke in to make sure he wouldn't be able to nod off.

"Something troubles you," he said gently. It was a gross understatement.

"I don't want to be human," Toothless said, feeling like a miserable, whining hatchling. "I've had my fill, I want to be me again."

"You speak as though being 'you' is determined by the body you wear," Ru said, and the words sounded to wise for Toothless to like them. He didn't want to be philosophic about this. He could do that when he didn't hurt quite so much.

"How do I change back?" He said, sniffing noisily and looking up with red eyes. "Please tell me you know how I can change back."

Ru sighed. The eastern dragon's scales rattled musically as he lowered himself so that his head was on level with Toothless. "I am a storyteller, Tóðléas," He said, "I am not a magician."

"And what would your stories say?" Toothless asked, fishing for hope.

"They would say that time may be the best answer. The bewearft is a quest, my friend. Only, a quest where you do not quite know the object, or the destination. So perhaps it is better called a journey."

"So you don't know when I'll change back."

"No, only that you will. Of that you need not fear."

"But what could I possibly be… be questing for? What is there that I haven't already achieved? What am I supposed to do?"

"I wish I could tell you," Ru sounded genuine. "But I would be willing to bet the skies themselves that it has to do with your Gicpa."

"Oh?" And just the topic made guilt ball up in Toothless' gut.

"I'm not sure what, exactly. But he is the catalyst in all of this, it would make sense that he may yet be the object."

Toothless didn't answer, and begun staring off into nothingness, trying hard not to think about Hiccup but doing so anyway.

"I do not pretend to understand everything about your relationship with the boy, Tóðléas," Ru sighed, "but I daresay you may need some prodding with this decision of yours. So I'll just tell you: tell him."

"Tell him?" Toothless hadn't expected to feel so alarmed at the idea, "Tell him what?"

"Everything. Everything I told you when I first arrived."

"But… but you said-"

"I did. Because I did not fully understand it, but you two are part of each other." The dragon cast a look back toward the Viking village. "I have heard how he helps you to fly. I can scarcely imagine the trust you have in him, he in you. Your minds must be in some tandem with each other – enough to spark a bewearft." Ru turned back around to peer at Toothless keenly. "I believe the young Prince is more dragon than most all humans, and you, perhaps, more human than all dragons."

"Of course I am, right now,"

"That is not what I meant."

Toothless looked up at him, but didn't say anything. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Hiccup weeks ago on the roof, about the dragon-human and human-dragons that they were.

"Brothers," Toothless said in Norse.

"What?" Ru asked. Toothless shook his head.

"Gicpa and I."

They sat silently for a while more, until Toothless felt at last that his tears were fading, the dregs in his throat dissipating.

"I am sorry I have disappointed you, friend. I will remain here on Berk as long as I may be able to help. But for now I think you have other matters to resolve."

Toothless frowned and looked up at him. "What?"

"I do not know exactly what the object of your bewearft will be, but I do not believe it includes quarreling with the boy who made you whole again, Tóðléas."

Toothless couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or angry. He squinted up at the huge dragon. "How the skies did you-"

"Friends of our hearts bear the scars of our claws," Ru said, standing to his full height. "but apology turns scars into symbols of love." He began to walk away, regal as ever.

"What?" Toothless asked confusedly from his seat.

"An old proverb from my homeland, master Tóðléas," he said, "It means, get up and go say you're sorry."

Toothless felt like a chastised child. Of course he would say he was sorry – he was. He knew he would have to tell Hiccup that. But he was scared.

"Apologize. Talk to him. Tell him whatever you feel you should. Anything at all. And lastly, Tóðléas," Ru looked at him over his shoulder, "Do not worry about your bewearft. It will not last forever."

But it was the uncertainty of all that hurt the most. Still, as Ru strolled peacefully away, Toothless made himself get up and start shuffling back the village, his head hanging with guilt.

He found Hiccup by accident. It turned out that the boy had sought solitude as Toothless had – not to cry, but just to be alone. Toothless stepped on a twig as he approached, and Hiccup turned to look. When he saw who it was, he clenched his jaw and turned around, looking down at the ground, where he'd been drawing in the dirt with a stick, as he often did.

Toothless came over and sat down wordlessly beside him. Hiccup was only paying attention to his drawing.

"I'm sorry," Toothless made himself say, and for however hard it was to say, it felt like it did little to help. "I… I spoke because I was mad – not at you, but just at… at all that's happened. I did not mean what I said." But then, his internal voice demanded, why had he said it at all?

"S'okay," Hiccup muttered, because he was used to taking punches and rolling through the worst of bruises. Toothless didn't know what to say next, so he looked down to see what Hiccup was drawing. He frowned. It was Hiccup, but the drawing didn't have a prosthetic leg, nor any eyes, and he seemed to be sprawled out uselessly on the ground.

A ground-bound, blind-eyed, crippled human.

Toothless wanted the ground to swallow him again.

He looked around and found another stick. He dug it into the ground of Hiccup's drawing. Far clumsier than Hiccup, of course, he doodled in a leg, and two big eyes. He paused, and then, biting his lip, he arched two big wings from either side of Hiccup's back.

Hiccup looked down at it, and after a moment, over at him. "Not a cripple?" He asked. Toothless ducked his head in shame.

"Gicpa, you are the exact opposite of all things crippled. I was stupid to have said otherwise."

"And I'm not blind."

"Your eyes are just like mine."

"And what about those wings?" He looked down at their collaboration, which, severed from its context, looked rather silly.

"You taught me to fly," Toothless told him simply.

Hiccup nodded. They sat quietly next to each other for a while. Totohless eventually felt he had to say again, "I am sorry, Gicpa. F-…forgive me?"

"Of course," Hiccup said. Then added, "…but will you tell me?"

Toothless breathed in, and a million different refusals went through his mind before he said, "Everything."

So while Hiccup doodled, Toothless came a bit closer and made himself comfortable. He spoke of dragons, and magic, and old stories, and of Ru and of humans. It all felt very odd, because he knew none of it would actually help. Hiccup couldn't fix anything that he was worrying about. He couldn't control magic, he couldn't predict the future, he couldn't tell Toothless when he would turn back into a dragon, or what exactly he was meant to do in the meantime. But he shared anyway, because Hiccup was Hiccup, and Toothless was Toothless, and they'd never not shared anything. They would bear the knowledge together, or not at all. He was only just now realizing how important that was.

They ended up with Hiccup reclining against a fallen-log seat, and Toothless lying on his back, each quiet after Toothless' long diatribe. The dragon had no idea what Hiccup thought of it all. His gut was still churning with uncertainty over the apology, of Hiccup's forgiveness. He felt a strong tug that he remembered having as a dragon. Back then, he'd press his head into Hiccup's hand for a scratch, for a pat, for a reassurance. But Toothless knew that kind of interaction between two humans was just downright odd. He sighed to himself.

Hiccup glanced back at him. Sometimes, Hiccup seemed to hear Toothless' thoughts. With a certain timbre of sigh that Toothless had come to interpret as 'oh this is all so strange, but to hel with that,' Hiccup scooted back to sit by Toothless' head. He dropped his hand and began to run his fingers through Toothless' hair, something akin to a pat he might've given him when he was a dragon. He didn't tell Toothless, he had memories of his mother stroking his hair like this after she'd scolded him and made him apologize.

"It'll be alright, bud," Hiccup said, still working to overcome his earlier hurt and now the awkward twinge to the interaction, "we'll figure it out, in the end. Together, yeah?"

Toothless was nodding off. (only a little bit, he told himself.) "Yeah," he agreed. The pangs of guilt weren't quite gone yet, but they felt less like knives and more like honey spread on cuts that would scar.

Hadn't Ru said something about scars?

Toothless fell asleep.

A/N: I promise, the next chapter will be 100x happier and lighter-hearted. I think I'm going to have another chapter or two of filler, plotless chapters (with a little plot thrown in, of course) and then we'll start building up for the climax that will signal the beginning of the end of this story.