They spent much of the next few days in Ru's company. Hiccup filled half of a sketchbook with drawings of the eastern dragon, and some quick paintings as well. He asked many questions about the world, about dragons, and some tentative ones about the magic that Toothless had told him about. Toothless acted as a quiet bystander to admire Ru's cool and undeniably fond handling of Hiccup and his inquisitive nature. Toothless got the feeling that Ru was familiar with humans, in one way or another, and very fond of them in general.
Sometimes, Hiccup would begin to doze in the afternoon sun, and Toothless and Ru would talk alone. In was in these conversations that Toothless felt an old, forgotten homesickness awaken in his chest. The Berkian dragons were good company, but they were rural and detached from the continental life that Toothless remembered from the days of his youth. Ru was a spring of knowledge, news, even gossip from the lands Toothless hadn't thought of in years.
"You remember your Weyr," Ru observed one late afternoon, even though Toothless had never mentioned anything about his former life. He looked up in surprise. When he didn't respond, Ru said, "I flew past only a handful of night fury settlements this side of the Heart of the World. Am I wrong in guessing you belong to the northwestern coast?"
Belong. Belonged, Toothless corrected silently. "It is where I was hatched," he replied. Ru nodded.
"How long has it been since you were there?" He asked carefully, sensing the fury's unease.
Toothless sighed, fiddling with a blade of grass and not looking at the other dragon. "Many years," He said.
Ru nodded slowly. "Well," he said, "you should know, it is as beautiful as it ever was, green valleys, rocky cliffs." He glanced at Toothless, trying to read his emotions. "I passed over a Furyn weyr, on my way. I did not stop to greet them, but they seemed a healthy clutch."
"How many were there?" Toothless voice was cracking, because the names and faces he hadn't thought of in years where appearing in his mind's eye. His parents and brothers were among them. Thirty, he anticipated Ru's answer to be about what he remembered.
"Four dozen or so," Ru answered. Toothless' eyebrows shot up. They'd grown. The weyr had grown so much. He wondered how many names and faces he would not know. "The land has been good to them, I think. A human settlement lies not too far away," Yes, and Toothless remembered them, kindly, but fearful and skittish folk. "But they seem to ignore each other, the weyr and the humans. Time has been good to your family, Tóðléas."
Yes, without me, Toothless thought. He didn't like the feeling of his heart falling to his gut. He glanced over at Hiccup, and made himself wrestle his heart back into place. This was his home, now.
"No, more like this," Hiccup grabbed Toothless' hand and gently guided it through the strokes. Toothless was biting his lip in determination, gripping the pencil tightly. He'd learned to read some time ago, and had been picking up tremendous speed in written vocabulary. Penmanship, on the other hand, was slow going.
"Do vikingr keep many written records?" He asked as he tried the runes again. Hiccup shrugged.
"Sure. I know the Meatheads have a whole library – although knowing the Meatheads, it might only have two books to its name. But Vikings have a lot of lore, lot of history. Some of us bother to write it down, now and again."
"You mean like the stories with Thor?" Toothless asked enthusiastically. Hiccup rolled his eyes with a slight smile. "Yeah, like those." Several weeks ago, Hiccup had nicked some of the old story books from the mead hall for Toothless to practice reading. The fury was particularly taken with the tales of Thor, god of lightning. He'd begun to claim that night furies had actually been the ones to forge Thor's hammer, Mjölnir, and were in fact Thor's very favorite dragon in all the world. (Hiccup had refrained from mentioning skrills). Both ideas were too blasphemous for Hiccup to repeat, but too funny for him to refute.
"You think I could end up in a story with Thor?" Toothless asked thoughtfully.
"Only because you'd tick him off with your wild stories and he'd come down to pulverize you." Hiccup peered over his shoulder. "Wild claims and horrible penmanship, anyway. Come on, like this," And they started the runes again.
"I could totally end up in a story with Thor. With all the other heroes."
"The heroes always die, Toothless."
"…Yeah, but I'm sure I could find a way to-"
"Runes, Toothless."
Toothless sighed and picked up the pencil, mind alight with stories, not all of them having to do with Thor.
It wasn't very long after Toothless had begun to write legibly that he'd approached Hiccup to request his own journal. Of course Hiccup agreed, and made sure he gone a nice thick one for Toothless to practice in. But to Hiccup's surprise, Toothless never wrote in it, or doodled in it. Not at first. He just looked at it, flipped through the pages, counting and peering at them like he was evaluating.
But then, when he finally began writing in his new book, he didn't stop. He'd stay up until the wee hours of the morning and set his hands in all sorts of cramps so that he could write in his journal, page after page after page.
"What are you writing?" Hiccup eventually had to ask, after keeping quiet for days.
Toothless actually looked sheepish. "A story," He admitted.
"Oh? What kind of story?" Hiccup asked, and smirked. "It have Thor it in?"
"No," Toothless answered seriously, "Just us."
Hiccup looked over at him with a clear expression. "Us?" He asked for confirmation. Toothless sighed and looked up at Hiccup with a shrug.
"I thought that… so long as I'm still like this, I… well, I ought to use the opportunity to record my story – our story. You know, write it all out." He ducked back down to begin writing again. "You need human hands to write, anyway."
"Oh," Hiccup said after a while. Don't ask it, don't ask it, he told himself, but then his curiosity burned through his courtesy. "Can I read it?" He asked.
Toothless blushed, and adjusted the book in his lap. Hiccup felt bad for asking, because he knew that reading someone else's writing could be like looking into their mind. He expected Toothless to say no, so he was surprised when the fury only ducked his head and said,
"Yes, but not yet." Toothless brought his pencil back down to the page, using the runes and words that Hiccup had taught him to record a story that Hiccup had never heard.
Not many people knew that Ru was on Berk. The dragons knew, insofar as they knew there was a Kindelline messenger staying on Berk because of Toothless. A few of them, including Stormfly, had seen Ru, and Ru had spent many afternoons visiting Ealda, regaling old tales to her and remembering days gone by.
Dragons aside, Hiccup was the only Viking who had met Ru. He'd had to tell his father and friends about the dragon of course, because he was constantly gone to go see him, and Gobber had seen some of the many sketches Hiccup made, but remained mostly silent on the matter. They'd all understood that Ru valued solidarity, and had been pleasantly un-pestering about seeing the dragon.
It was actually Hiccup who had, very nervously, asked if Ru couldn't allow at least one other person to make his acquaintance.
He'd seemed taken off guard, but was amiable toward Hiccup's request. "And who might you have in mind, master Gicpa?" He asked. Toothless snorted loudly, having made the correct guess in seconds.
"The æfenhlytta, I'm guessing," Toothless said slyly. Hiccup glared.
"Oh?" Ru asked, "I did not realize you were half of a pair," He looked at Hiccup.
"I'm not," He glared hard at Toothless, who was fighting laughter. "Toothless uses the word in jest. She's just a friend."
"Yes, and I'm a butterfly," Toothless said. Hiccup's face was burning red, but he hoped if he glared hard enough it wouldn't look quite as undignified.
"Well, in the case that she is your mate, Gicpa, I would be happy to meet her."
"She's not my mate!" And a term so base as mate made Hiccup's face go even redder.
"Honestly, I just do not understand why you humans are so touchy about it," Toothless said, pulling a dismissive eye-roll. "It does not have to be nearly so big a deal as you make of it. Find a good match, prove your compatibility, settle down, raise a clutch… honestly, it's not that hard."
"Speak from experience, do you?" Hiccup bit.
"Well, no, but-"
"Shut up, then."
Ru made a small, amused noise. Toothless shook his head."Experience or not, you humans and your mating is absolutely ridiculous." He looked up at Ru. "In case you haven't learned, Ru, humans have the most bizarre mating rituals in the world."
"Is that so?" Ru sounded like he did, in fact, already know, but Toothless must have missed the tone.
"Instead of mating in a season like all sensible creatures do, they opt to dance about each other for years in as a preface to the actual mating. It's very strange." A though struck, and Toothless added, "though I suppose it's not really dancing. In fact, it seems to be all about talking." Then another thought struck, and he had to correct himself, "Alright, well, it's not always about talking. Even so, it is still all about mouths."
"Toothless!" Hiccup snapped, even as he prayed for the grown to swallow him.
Because of the look on Hiccup's face, Toothless nearly collapsed in laughter.
"Oh, come on," Hiccup growled with crimson cheeks, "Surely dragons get embarrassed about some things too,"
"Well of course we do," Toothless said easily, "But not anything as ridiculous as mating,"
"Well, what, then?" Hiccup asked, crossing his arms. Toothless looked at him incredulously.
"You don't actually think I'm going to tell you, do you?"
Hiccup scoffed and tossed his head. "Worth a shot," He grumbled.
"If memory serves," Ru cut in, "I believe there are a few things that night furies in particular have, hmm… shall we say, soft spots for."
The change in Toothless' expression was instantaneous, and he turned his best you wouldn't dare look on Ru.
"Really?" Hiccup asked interestedly.
"Oh yes. I'm sure Tóðléas could tell you all about it." He turned an amused glance over at the dragon-human.
"Could he?" Toothless asked.
"Hmm, perhaps not. …Care to walk with me, Gicpa?" Ru asked, rising.
"Oh, definitely," Hiccup's eyes lit up and he jogged up to the dragon's side as he began to stroll through the forest.
"N-now wait a minute," Toothless stood, unsure of what to do. "What, exactly, are you planning on telling him? He's still practically a hatchling! You can't just go on talking about… about those things!"
"Human!" Hiccup called back. "And I resent the hatchling comment."
When Toothless finally found his feet to jog after them, it seemed that Ru had already imparted some secret knowledge, which was leading Hiccup's face to twitch as he tried not to giggle.
"What did you tell him?" Toothless demanded, looking between Ru and Hiccup. Neither dragon nor Viking said anything, and only walked away, eyes alight with amusement. "What?!" Toothless looked so concerned about it all, Hiccup couldn't help it when he burst into laughter.
He would never bother explaining to Toothless that Ru hadn't actually told him anything. But letting Toothless think he had put the fury through enough awkwardness and fidgeting that Hiccup felt vindicated.
"Oh," Hiccup said innocently through his laughter, "Nothing, really." He silently vowed to himself to keep up this charade of secret information for as long as he could, if only to see Toothless squirm. He had months of teasing to catch up on, at least – and besides, when else would he get the chance to see Toothless turn that shade of red?
"This is a horrible idea."
"This is a wonderful idea."
They stood together in the doorway, looking outside. Hiccup's face was the embodiment of apprehension, but Toothless was grinning like a toddler on his way to the Mayday festival.
It was, by the most technical of definitions, daylight outside. But in front of the sun was a thick, dark blanket of cloud, which was dumping rain down in sheets – a real deluge. There was no lightning, thunder, or strong storm gales to make it all truly dangerous, but the god-sized buckets dumping from the sky gave Hiccup enough reasons to stay indoors.
Toothless, however, did not operate by Hiccup's human logic, and saw the storm as a golden opportunity. Still smiling, Toothless dropped to the floor and started rolling up his trousers.
"What are you doing?" Hiccup asked, panic rising.
"Come on!" He said, reaching over and rolling up Hiccup's trouser leg for him.
"Wait, what?" Hiccup looked out to the muddy ground, eyes wide and brows low.
"It'll be fun!" Toothless insisted, and yanked on Hiccup's boot. The Viking pitched forward and had to hold onto the doorframe as the dragon wrestled his shoe off.
"Toothless!" He cried in protest, "I am not going to-"
"Oh, yes you are!" Toothless stood and charged out the door, scooping Hiccup up onto one shoulder as he went.
The two stumbled out into the watery fray as one heap, Toothless whooping in laughter, Hiccup yelping indignantly.
"Ow, oh, ow, that's cold!" Hiccup said, raindrops stinging his skin.
"Isn't it great?" Toothless asked, basking in rain. After his first experience with bathing, he'd developed an affinity for water – it felt amazing on human skin, he told Hiccup whenever the Viking caught him playing in streams or buckets.
"Are you going to put me down, now?" Hiccup demanded, face growing red from how he was hanging half upside-down across Toothless' back. Toothless heaved him up and set him down on solid ground.
Well, solid was a relative term.
"This is new," Toothless said, wiggling his bare toes experimentally in the soft, thoroughly muddy ground.
"Oh, ew," Hiccup complained when his foot hit the ground and mud began to seep up between his toes. Then, he began to keel sideways. "Oh, come on," He had to reach down and yank at his prosthetic to pull it free of the mud. "I told you this was a bad idea!" He shouted above the sound of rain, hair soaked and plastered to his face.
"Oh, come on, Gicpa!" Toothless beamed at him, "what happened to your spirit of adventure?" And as easily as anything, Toothless reached down for a handful of mud, and slung it right at Hiccup's face. It landed on his hair, leaving his eyes wide and untouched so he could turn and glare in shock. It only made Toothless grin wider, and laugh.
"Oh, you did not just-"
"What, angry? Then come and get me, Fishbone!"
"What did you call me?"
Toothless laughed, and ran.
"You useless reptile!" Hiccup stooped, grabbed a handful of mud, and charged in pursuit. Now that he was running, his prosthetic didn't have time to sink into the ground, although he stumbled more than he ran. He didn't notice, but Toothless checked his pace and looked back often enough to make sure he didn't fall. He even let Hiccup catch up before he ran out of breath. Still, he wasn't about to just let him slam a pile of mud in his face. He dodged and turned and ducked, now showing no mercy to Hiccup and his leg.
"I thought Night Furies were supposed to have dark hides," Hiccup said, and Toothless didn't realize what he was getting at until Hiccup had grabbed him and climbed up onto his back. "About time you looked the part!" He said, reaching around and smacking mud straight into Toothless' face.
The dragon-human sputtered and spat, a sudden wave of rage coming over him. Then, an idea. He turned his head to glare and Hiccup, who laughed for a split second before he saw the glint-eyed expression beneath all the mud. Glancing behind himself, Toothless tipped himself backward carefully.
"No, no nonono, Toothless!" Hiccup cried, but it was too late. Toothless fell to the ground with a muddy splash, Hiccup sandwiched between a heavier body and a huge mud puddle. Toothless laughed at Hiccup's cry, and began to get up. "Nope!" Hiccup leaped up, grabbed, and yanked. Hiccup was covered in mud on his back, and now Toothless had a front to match.
Soon, they were completely covered in mud, whooping and hollering at each other and how utterly ridiculous they looked, at the feel of mud and water running down their faces, through their hair, and not caring about any of it worth a rat's behind.
Hiccup screwed his eyes shut and turned his face up into the rain, scrubbing away mud so he could see. When he looked back down at himself, he was still filthy. And shivering. "We should get back," He told Toothless. The other boy turned, smile wide, chest heaving from laughter beneath a sopping tunic that clung.
"Aww," he said, although he was growing tired and cold, too.
"I need a bath and a warm fire," Hiccup said in explanation, and turned toward the house. He hadn't realized how far they'd ran until he saw how far he had to walk back to the house.
"Oh, alright," Toothless relented, because a fire did sound nice. He started after Hiccup, bare feet swashing satisfyingly in the mud. He watched Hiccup stumble once, twice, three times in two steps before he jogged up beside him. "None of that," He said, and took Hiccup's arms and drew them up around his neck. Then he grabbed his legs behind the knees and carried him piggy-back all the way to the house.
"You're much heavier than I remember," He teased.
"And you're a whole lot bonier."
"You're not one to talk on that, you know," Toothless readjusted Hiccup's lank more dramatically than he needed to.
"Oi! Watch it, Useless." The only reason Hiccup didn't smack him was because he had to hold on.
"Isn't that what they used to call you?" Toothless peered up at his cargo.
Hiccup scoffed, affronted, but Toothless laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Æðelin," he emphasized the title meaningfully.
"You too," Hiccup said.
Toothless let out laugh. "Yeah, walking contradictions, you and I," Toothless heaved Hiccup up higher on his back. "Two Useless Princes."
"Useless, one without Teeth, the other with perpetual Hiccups."
Toothless snorted. "Or something like that."
They made it to the house without dissolving into another mudfight, but they were both shivering violently when they finally stumbled in through the back door. Stoick was baffled and angry to see so much mud and water all over his house, but the two boys were grinning and giggling in such a disarming manner that he only sighed and got up to find some towels.
A while later, Hiccup was sitting clean-haired and in dry clothes by the fire. Toothless' hair was a puff of drying black in the firelight, his body huddled in nothing but a wool blanket. His only full set of clothes hung, soaking and still slightly muddy, on a line above the fire. Thank Odin they lived in a houseful of men, or else it would have been awkward, undies hanging in the middle of the room and a naked man still trying to contain his giggles beneath his meager coverings.
"We should do that again," Toothless bubbled, and Hiccup looked up from where he'd begun doodling in his sketchbook. He'd taken off his prosthetic, and both legs, one stumped at the knee, hung over the arm of his chair.
"What, you keen on getting a mudbath again?" He smirked.
"No, only on seeing you looking like a swamp ghoul," he smiled. The expression Hiccup sent him made him snort.
Eventually, when Toothless' clothes refused to dry, Stoick lent him one of his tunics, and the slighter man wore it like a long robe. Stoick retreated to his room for a time to eat and relax from the day. When he re-emerged near sundown, both his son and his friend were fast asleep in their chairs, mouths open, arms splayed.
If Stoick carried each of them carefully upstairs and put them into their beds, it was a moment that no one else would ever hear about. The last thing Berk's chief needed was anyone knowing that he'd turned soft.
Once the boys were both warm under their covers, Stoick looked them over, snoring softly as they were, their beds a few metres apart. Toothless muttered and turned over his bed, wiggling his head against his pillow until he found a comfy spot. For the briefest of moments, Stoick wondered if he was glimpsing into alternate history where Hiccup was not an only child. Then, he shook his head and turned away, refusing to acknowledge the thought that had appeared in the back of his mind.
He'd grown to love Toothless. Not as just a dragon, but as a second son – in the strangest, most bizarre, but most touching of ways.
Not that either of the boys would ever learn that.
But when Hiccup woke up in the middle of the night and saw how they were both in bed and not cramped in chairs, he would smile and shake his head fondly, because he had an idea. He sometimes wondered if his father realized that actions spoke louder than words.