The next morning, Hiccup groaned into consciousness only because the space beyond his eyelids had grown too bright for him to sleep. He blinked into the light with a sleepy frown cemented onto his face, but when he squinted over to where Toothless slept he had to smile. The dragon was still fast asleep, huddled up under his blankets so the only bit of him that Hiccup could actually see was his incredibly messy hair. Quietly as he could, Hiccup strapped on his leg and ghosted out of the room.

"Bout time you're up," Stoick teased when Hiccup shuffled downstairs, "You're lucky it's still too wet outside for training, Astrid would've knocked your skull to Valhalla and back if you slept in,"

"Mmm," was Hiccup's deadpanned reply, because he knew it was true.

He ate breakfast, helped his father clean up after last night's mudfest, and cleaned out Toothless' clothes. It was quiet and lonesome that morning, to wet still to go to the forge or to training, but Hiccup was never one to begrudge a few hours of isolation. Before he knew it, it was nearly lunch.

"Toothless still in bed?" Stoick had been working with his ever-postponed stack of paperwork, and now walked into the room in a state of confusion at Toothless' absence.

"Yeah," Hiccup smiled, "being a right slughead today." He sighed and heaved himself up from where he'd been sketching. "I guess I'd better go and get him."

Hiccup didn't bother about being quiet as he slammed his way into the room. "Alright, lazy butt, up you get. The sun is up, you know." he frowned when he saw Toothless, because he hadn't moved a single inch since that morning. "Toothless?" he called, coming over. "Time to get up, bud." Hiccup went over and shook his shoulder. When his hand hit Toothless' bare neck in the process, Hiccup froze. Frantic, he touched Toothless' face and recoiled.

"Gods, Toothless," he ripped the covers away, "I told you it was a horrible idea." Hiccup sighed and ran back downstairs "Dad!" he called, "Get a bucket of water - Toothless is sick!"

"Sick? How?" Stoick appeared, looking concerned.

"He's gone and caught a fever, a bad one. Go and cool him off, I have to get Astrid."

Hiccup left and jogged across the soggy mud to the Hofferson house. It was actually Sven who answered.

"I need Astrid's help," Hiccup told him right away, "Toothless is running a high fever."

Sven understood immediately, and let Hiccup stand inside while he fetched his daughter. As Viking men, Hiccup, Stoick, and Sven all knew basic protocol on fevers, what to do, what not to do. But they also knew when their knowledge ended, where water and blankets stopped helping, when you'd better go find a woman, and fast. Sure, some men would know herbs and treatments, but all Viking women were raised to be caretakers in all faculties. Astrid would know what to do with a high fever.

"Alright, what did you do to him?" Astrid thumped down the stairs when her father called.

Hiccup was nonplussed. "Why do you just assume it's my fault?!"

"He doesn't know everything about being human, you do, and you're supposed to be taking care of him. If he's sick, it's because you let him get sick." Astrid faced him with her arms crossed. Hiccup looked down at her, sputtering. He caught sight of Sven slinking away, biting hard on his lip to contain a smile. Hiccup squinted at his back. Sven had never done a terribly good job of hiding the fact that he found the chemistry between his daughter and his (unofficial) future son-in-law very amusing.

"Whatever," Hiccup said eventually, blush rising, "Just... I need your help, come on," he grabbed her hand and darted back to the house.

Years ago, Hiccup had thought that violence encompassed everything Astrid was interested in. But he'd since learned that, deep down, her core did not revolve around violence, but protection. At the blade of an axe, more often than not, but also, like now, with a gentle touch.

"How long has he been burning up like this?" She asked, touching Toothless' forehead and brushing back woefully dry hair.

"I-I don't know. I just thought he was sleeping, when I went to wake him, that's when I realized he had a fever."

"He hasn't moved since he went to sleep?"

"No."

Astrid sighed. Stoick had already stripped the bedsheets back and taken Toothless' tunic off of him, but the boy was still pink from inner heat, and no sweat to be seen. His body had already steamed off the water that Stoick had put on his face.

Astrid nodded to herself and took charge. "Alright. Hiccup, open that window. And light that fireplace. Get his bed an even distance between the window and the fire – a blanket up to his waist, mop some water on his forehead, nowhere else – make sure its lukewarm, not cold. I need to go see Gothi about some herbs."

And so the morning went on. Stoick came and went frequently to help and work at the same time. Hiccup stayed by Toothless the entire time. Astrid returned shortly after she left, and made quick work of putting a kettle over the fire. Hiccup watched her mix in some herbs for tea – feverfew, chamomile, and willow bark, she told him. Then, at the last minute, she added a large chunk of sticky honeycomb. When he asked about it, she told him, "just in case," although he wasn't sure what she could mean by that.

Since Toothless wasn't awake (and that was worrying Hiccup more than he would admit) they had the difficult job of force-feeding him the tea. Luckily, swallowing was a reflex even in sleep, so after a few spills, they'd gotten him to drink a decent amount of the medicinal tea. From there, it became a waiting game for Toothless to wake up. Hiccup didn't ask if it was bad that he hadn't already, and Astrid didn't say anything, so they waited in silence. Eventually, when Hiccup's stomach began to rumble sometime around dinner, Astrid convinced him to go eat something while she looked after Toothless. Of course, in the half hour or so while he was gone, Toothless finally woke up.

"Astrid?" He croaked upon seeing her. She smiled at him.

"There you are. You've been scaring us, you know."

"I's… ic beo onswornod…"He looked around himself, "forhwon ádlae?"

"Aaaahh," Astrid drew out uncertainly. With the way Toothless looked blearily up at her, she doubted he realized he wasn't speaking Norse. "Hiccup?" She called.

"Gicpa," Toothless said. Astrid knew that was Hiccup's name. "Broðor," He added, and she didn't know what that word meant.

"Okay," she said, unsure.

"Spræc wæs misgewidere unræd," he moaned, sounding regretful. Astrid bit her lip, hoping she wasn't required to answer.

"Yes?" Hiccup called, mercifully tromping up the stairs.

"He's woken up, but he's speaking in Dragonese, I can't understand him." At that, Hiccup rushed over.

"Wes þu hal, Toðléas," Hiccup smiled over at him, "Humeta biþ úre hælþe?"

Toothless groaned. "Ágrisenlicu,"

Hiccup laughed, but it was a pity laugh.

"What'd he say?" Astrid asked.

"That he feels awful. At least he can understand me, right? Although, Toothless, you realize you're not speaking in Norse, right?" Hiccup turned to his bedridden friend, who squinted up at him.

"Ic i ne?"

"Nope. Dragonese, all the way."

"…eaw." The dragon blinked slowly. "Ic i ræswe ic beo tó áslacest," he said, and glanced at Astrid. "Ic beo efensorge," he said.

"What?" She asked.

"He's apologizing because he can't seem to make his mouth work in Norse at the moment."

"Oh," Astrid's face softened. "That's alright, Toothless. I'll just have to have Hiccup translate for me. Now that you're up, you need to drink this," she offered him another glass of tea. They'd been keeping it warm over the fire, but it'd gone slightly cold, and he wrinkled his nose. "Go on, it'll help." And so he did drink it, and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. It was the sweetness of the honey, Hiccup was sure, and Toothless drank two more small glasses afterward.

"I'm sorry," He muttered to Hiccup, even as his eyes drifted shut.

"What for?"

"You said it was a bad idea, to go out in the rain yesterday. I should have listened."

Hiccup shook his head. "You stupid reptile. It's not your fault. Now go back to sleep, it'll help you."

Astrid didn't know what they'd said, but didn't ask. Soon enough, Toothless was back asleep. A little while after, just as the sun dipped completely behind the horizon, the first beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and both attending vikings sighed sighs of relief.

"Thanks, Astrid," Hiccup told her. "I wouldn't have known what to do."

"Maybe one day I'll teach you," she said, getting up, "and you're welcome. Let me know how he is in the morning."

"Alright," He said, not complaining when she ran her hand through his hair and to his cheek and kissed the side of his face. He grabbed her hand and squeezed before she quietly made her way back home.

A few silent moments passed after she left before, "You two really do just need to mate sometime," Toothless slurred.

Hiccup jumped. "W-you were asleep!"

"You talk too loudly for anyone to sleep," the sweaty dragon grumbled.

"But you're sick!"

"And tired. Now stop flirting with your intended and let me rest."

"She's not even here anymore," Hiccup protested, but Toothless' sudden snoring interrupted him.

For the next several days, Toothless was completely bedridden. The fever came and went hourly, mild bouts of sweating and shivering that he didn't appreciate one bit. After enjoying the first day or so of drama at his behest, Toothless became an insufferable grump because he was so bored with the four walls of his bedroom. He took the time (when he wasn't sulking) to write in the journal that he'd been working on for so long, the thick one that Hiccup had given him. He'd reached nearly halfway through its many pages by now, and Hiccup was dying to read what he'd committed to paper.

Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him. It was late evening, and Toothless was asleep, drooling onto his pillow because he couldn't breathe through his nose. It wasn't quite late enough for Hiccup to sleep, but he'd been spending the evening quietly out of respect for Toothless. Now, his eyes caught on the leather journal that sat on Toothless' nightstand. He fought with himself for a minute or two before he snuck his hand up and very quietly lifted the journal from the stand. Slowly, he lifted the cover, glancing up to Toothless a few times before he could comfortably read.

The first page had only one word, in runes large and bold enough to be a title page.

DRAGONHEART

Hiccup frowned to himself, because he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. Shrugging, he turned to the next page.

To my knowledge, dragons have never, as a people, kept written records the way humans do. Our history is kept by the voices and memories of our elders, passed down through generations in spoken word. Writing in runes and in pictures is a medium far more befitted to humans, with their deft hands and insatiable curiosity-

"You could have just asked, you know,"

Hiccup slammed the journal shut and looked up to find Toothless peering at him tiredly from his supine position. The Viking bit his lips in guilt.

"I-uh… I'm sorry, I just… sorry." He lifted the journal guiltily to give it to Toothless, but the dragon shoved it back into Hiccup's hands.

"It's okay, Gicpa, you can read it." He laughed. "I wanted to wait until I was done, but you humans really are to curious for your own good – you especially. You can go ahead, if you like."

"You sure?" Hiccup asked.

"Of course," Toothless said, eyes drifting shut again.

"Oh, well, okay," Hiccup said, wasting no time in lifting the cover again.

It is this curiosity that drives them to make things so peculiar as books. I know I will forever keep my story with me and my people through my mothertongue, but I am no longer just a dragon. The rest of my life has been irrevocably intertwined with my human family, the Vikings of Berk. For their sake, I've taken it upon myself to tell my story, as accurately as I can remember, because I cannot be shy in saying it will be a story worth keeping.

At this point, Hiccup paused because the back of his brain refused to let go of a point of confusion.

"What does it mean?" He asked. Toothless, who'd been dozing, breathed in deeply to wake himself up.

"Hmm?"

"You called it 'Dragonheart'" at the beginning. What does that mean?"

Toothless opened his eyes, thought for a moment, and said, "It is a… a title, I suppose you could say. Like 'Elder' and 'Chief' are titles. But it's a bit different. Not every weyr has a Dragonheart. I remember, we had one in my weyr when I was just a hatchling, but she was very old and died when I was still yet to fly. A Dragonheart is not a term of necessity, but one of respect, of achievement."

"What kind of achievement?"

"They are regarded as heroes, whether in war, or family, or hunting. By the strictest of definitions, a Dragonheart is a dragon who has been injured in such a way that could have cost them their life, but they have somehow come back from it better for it, and continued to pour their strength into the weyr."

"But… why Dragonheart? Why not something else?"

"Well, see, most Dragonhearts, or rather, Dracaheortan, in Dragonese, are always injured so that they can't be called dragons, really."

"What's that supposed to mean."

"They can't fly."

"….Oh."

"See, when a dragon can't fly anymore, they're not really a proper dragon, are they? So, if they're stranded from their weyr, they'll be ridiculed and abandoned and called bad names like… like 'Snake'," Toothless said it like it was a dirty word.

"What's the dragonese for that?" Hiccup asked, smiling to himself.

"Oh, shut up. I'm not saying it," Toothless said, blushing. "Anyway, dragons who can't fly aren't really… well, they aren't really in a position to protect themselves. However, if they are able to carry on, if they can continue to love and care for their weyr, their weyr will, in the face of everything and in honor of what they gave for their family, give them the name Dragonheart. It is a sign of the highest respect, and reiterates their status as a true dragon despite their injury. If not in wing, certainly in heart."

"Oh," Hiccup said, at length, blinking. "So… I guess that means you're a Dragonheart, then?" He looked only slightly sheepish.

Toothless shrugged. "People will read it that way, I suppose. Truth is, I'm only a Dragonheart because you are, too."

"But… I'm not a dragon," Hiccup said, nonplussed.

Toothless smiled, and said in Dragonese, "With that heart of yours, you could be."

Hiccup looked away and didn't say how the words made him feel so proud. He opened the book and began to read again. He'd only been at it for a few dozen seconds before it fell back into his lap and he looked up.

"Toothless, why've you written this in Norse?"

Toothless sighed dramatically, but beyond his dishelved bedclothes, Hiccup could see that he was smiling. "I knew you'd ask all these questions. Just, come up here, will you? Talking so loud makes my throat hurt more."

So Hiccup picked up the journal and bounded to Toothless' bed, where the fury made room but didn't actually sit up. After Hiccup took of his prosthetic, the duo ended up in an arrangement where Toothless remained lying down and rested his head on the folded crook of Hiccup's stumped leg. Hiccup leaned against the headboard, and had his nose stuck in Toothless' journal until he came across something that needed a question to clarify.

Toothless patiently answered Hiccup's questions as the boy read, frequently at first and then less and less as the Viking read on. Eventually, once Hiccup reached the end of what Toothless had written (and it wasn't quite the whole story, as either of them knew it) he lowered the book and said,

"You know, you'll have a lot of room left over, even after you're finished. You're very nearly to the-" He looked down and finally noticed that Toothless was sound asleep, now drooling onto Hiccup's trousers. "-present," He finished, and smiled at his friend. "Well," He whispered, "more for the future, I suppose. World traveling, sea serpents, whatnot." He grunted as he wrestled Toothless' deadweight off of himself and put his leg back on. "And you promised me all of that, so don't you dare try to wiggle yourself out of it, alright?"

Toothless snored.

Hiccup snorted back and pulled the covers back up over his friend.

It was well past dark, so Hiccup washed and changed and turned into his own bed. After a minute or so of stillness, Hiccup threw back his covers and relit his candle so he could see his way back over to where he'd left Toothless' journal. He took some quick measurements before returning to bed and falling asleep soon after.

Toothless slept hard and fast that night, well into the afternoon of the next day (all part of being sick, Hiccup had assured him before) but when he did awake, he realized he was feeling considerably better than when he'd gone to sleep. He could even half-breathe from one of his nostrils. He smacked his lips and looked around for Hiccup, who was not there. His eyes scanned the room, and paused on something unfamiliar sitting on his bedstand. Blinking for focus, Toothless reached out and brought it closer to his face.

It was his journal – the pages were all there, at least, but the cover had changed. It'd been a soft cover when he'd received it, with a long leather thong to tie it closed. Now, it was hardcover with a metal latch on it, sturdy and well-crafted to keep it protected and unbent. The leather had been carefully embossed with designs whose style Toothless recognized from blades and shields and endless sketchbooks.

On the front was a night fury's tail – his tail – with the right side intact and the left side replaced by metal and fabric. He followed the length of the tail to the back cover, where Hiccup had embossed a design of himself, prosthetic leg clearly visible, riding atop Toothless in the clouds. A deep pang of longing filled Toothless' heart, and he flipped the book back over so he wouldn't dwell on how much he missed flying. It was then that he noticed the rune title for the first time. Using Norse phonetics, Hiccup had spelt out,

Dracahoertan.

Toothless' face broke into a smile at the irony. Only a Viking could've read the runes, but only a dragon could've understood that Hiccup had opted to use the plural.

Dragonhearts.

A/N: I suppose this time is as good as any to tell you all: After I've finished this story as well as Most of Him, which as just one chapter left (more of an epilogue, really) I have a new story in the works, entitled Dragonheart.

I'll let you use your imaginations as to what it will be about. ;)