A/N: Wow, two updates within a 36 hour period. Rest assured, that will not be happening again. I think. I've had this chapter sitting 99.9% finished on my computer for like… Seven months. I'm not kidding. I've been waiting to post this thing for seven months.

So, here we go. It's actually a few thousand words shorter than the last few chapters, but I'd advise you to grab the tissues.

Oh, and I must make a disclaimer: There are some references in this chapter that will come up in the plot of HtTYD2, and are not consistent with the info we have on HtTYD2. When I wrote this chapter, I did not have that info. So, no need to point it out to me. I know. I just didn't feel like changing it.

It's not a sensation you can describe to someone who's never experienced it for themselves, but in that moment Hiccup felt that everything in world was completely, entirely wrong. Toothless came over so quickly Hiccup didn't see him move – and neither did his attacker. As quick as a blink, the guard had moved to stab Hiccup but found Toothless instead. He didn't have time to look surprised until his blade was planted hilt-deep into Toothless' gut.

For a moment, no one moved, or breathed. Toothless looked almost as shocked as his attacker. As if to deny what he'd done, the guard yanked away his blade, now slick with blood, and stepped away to look fearfully at his captain. Toothless let out a whine and looked down at himself, touching his wound and looking at his blood-soaked hand as if he didn't know what it was.

Hiccup had been standing behind. He'd seen the blade pierce through Toothless' back, by his spine, under the ribcage. Through and through, the medics would've said. He'd heard the term used in hushed conversations, talking about men who went on raids and never came back.

"Toothless," He said, because somehow Toothless was still standing, blood pouring. Hiccup went to him and touched his arm, completely surreal in his movements. Sluggishly, Toothless brought up his head to look at Hiccup, his face full of bewilderment and fear. He didn't say anything, but at Hiccup's touch, began to fall. "Toothless!" Hiccup caught him, and helped him fall to the ground.

"Ow," was all Toothless could manage, face still clear but growing pale. Hiccup could see the damage in full light, now, and tears began to well up.

"Why did you do that?" He looked at Toothless, and also at the man who'd stabbed him, "W-why would you do that?"

Toothless tried to move his head up to look at Lech and his men. They would've been a threat, but as it was, Lech had snapped out of shock as well, and was yelling abuse at his crew so loudly that they couldn't think about attacking. Toothless let his head sink back down.

"He was gonna kill you," Toothless mumbled, looking up at Hiccup. "I just…"

"You stupid reptile," Hiccup took off his vest and put it up against Toothless' wound and pressed. The dragon yelped in pain, but couldn't move. "Y-you don't have scales anymore," Hiccup's voice was deep and thick because his throat was closing up.

"Forgot," Toothless told him. He looked up to the ceiling and realized that as time went on, he was having more trouble seeing it. "Gicpa," he said.

"No," Hiccup growled, directing attention to stopping the bleeding,

"Gicpa," Toothless insisted,

"No! Don't you do it, you're going to be fine," even as his vest and his hands bathed in the welling pools of blood. In the background, the men continued to yell at each other, arguing over who was responsible for stabbing Toothless and who'd ordered it, who was stupider and who ought to be punished.

"Do what?" Toothless slipped into Dragonese, because it was easier somehow. Hiccup hardly noticed when he began answering in kind.

"Say goodbye," he choked, "Don't you dare try it, Tóðléas,"

"Gicpa," Toothless said reasonably, "Hiccup, I have to-"

"No!" and Hiccup's tears became angry sobs, "No! You're going to be fine!"

Toothless said nothing for a moment, staring out into nothing, until he felt around and found Hiccup's bloodstained hand with his own. "Hiccup, I… I can't really…see."

Hiccup cried. He couldn't say anything, but pressed harder on the wound. Toothless winced. "Hiccup, look at me," because he wouldn't be able to see him at all in a moment.

"You promised," Hiccup moaned, but he did, in fact, look up. "You and me, you promised we'd grow old together, do stupid things, travel the world over."

"Hiccup,"

"You promised."

"I know I did," Toothless patted Hiccup's sticky hand with his own. Even as the world darkened beyond recognition, he could still see Hiccup's face, vaguely. The Viking was weeping openly, completely unable to accept what was happening, but helpless to stop it. "Hey," Toothless said, reaching up to Hiccup's face while he could still see it, "It'll be alright."

"But you promised," Hiccup was covered in his own tears and Toothless' blood, and neither of them noticed.

"Yeah, I promise," Toothless blinked lazily and didn't realize he was smearing Hiccup's cheek with more blood as his hand fell limply back down. "It'll be fine, Gicpa." He coughed wetly.

The dragons behind them were stirring, fearful and angry as red blood crept further across the floor and the arguing grew louder. The guards noticed, and Lech eventually snarled, snapping at his guards to get everyone out before the dragons snapped and began attacking. Two of them went over to Hiccup.

"It's for naught, lad, get off him," one growled, and seized Hiccup around the arm, dragging him back from Toothless.

"No! No!" The Viking screamed, slapping at the hands that grabbed him. This worked for a moment as they leaped back from the blood, but then they just rolled up their sleeves and went back again.

"Gicpa, it will be alright. Go." Said Toothless.

"Stop saying that!" Hiccup yelled, fighting to get back to his friend. "It's not! You know it's not!"

"I promise it'll be fine. I'll… I'll… see you." Toothless couldn't see at all, now. It bothered him.

They'd successfully secured Hiccup with his arms twisted behind him. "Let me go!" He yelled at them, "just let me help him!"

"You can't help him, lad," said one of them next to his ear, "there's too much blood - he's gone."

"Gicpa," Toothless' voice was weak, but dragonese was enough to catch Hiccup's ear. Then, in very labored Norse, "this is the last chance I have to say it. Hiccup… thank you."

"No. No, Toothless," Hiccup tried to lunge, but it only helped the men haul him back, finally to the door. "Stop, just - Tóðléas," He grabbed at the door, shoved at the frame with his foot, but they easily overpowered him. His wide eyes shot back to his friend, bleeding out on the metal floor. He realized that it was the last time he would ever see him. "He's still alive," He yelled at his captors, "He's still alive, please just help him – Tóðléas!" They began to shut the door, and Hiccup looked back to his friend who couldn't see him through blood-parched eyes. "TÓÐLÉAS!" The door closed with finality, and they dragged Hiccup away.

Inside, Toothless sighed against the metal, wanting to cry because of his friend's anguished screams, but unable to find the energy. His body panged with every breath, and he could feel his nerves pulse hotly as his heart choked on air. It felt like a thread that had been coiled up in his bones was being unraveled from both sides at once. He didn't notice that his breaths were becoming wet and raspy, few and far between, but the other dragons did. They'd begun to gather round at a respectful distance, save for Rædwit, who'd come closer to his nephew.

"Æðelin?" He asked, sad, hot breath coming down on Toothless' cold face.

"It hurts," Toothless told him weakly. "But not like it should. Dying is different." Impossibly, he let out a laugh."Never thought I'd do it as a human, you know." his expression was slack. The other dragons could see how blood had begun trickling out of his mouth when he coughed, though he couldn't feel it.

Rædwit wanted very much to cry, but instead he only spoke softly, about nothing and everything, while Toothless slowly faded away. Like a lullaby, he told him how his family had missed him, about how he was sorry for not finding him sooner, about how very, very brave he was. At last, he promised that Hiccup would be –would have been- welcomed into their weyr.

Behind blind eyes, Toothless realized that he was afraid. Not so much of dying, but about everything else that dying meant; about Hiccup, and Astrid, and the world of promises. Then a soft warmth washed up from his toes, and told him that it was safe to sleep. So he did. Paralyzed in the land just before dreams, he couldn't move or jerk when a pain like a hot knife shot up through his deepest core and cut the unraveling thread.

Astrid had been trying to ignore the numbness in her buttocks all day, head resting listlessly against her knees. She'd sandwiched her hands behind her folded knees to keep warm and was trying very hard to fall asleep. Across the cell from her, Stoick was sitting glumly by the bars, trying to brainstorm an idea – any idea – for escape. They'd been sitting in silence for so long that, when the sound of a slamming door echoed down to them, they both jumped. Voices echoed back, too, and they each craned forward to hear. The voice was a familiar one, but the screaming made it sound almost unrecognizable.

"Toothless!" it was Hiccup, without a doubt, but his voice was high-pitched and raw. "TOOTHLESS!"

Astrid and Stoick looked at each other in sudden fear, because Hiccup wouldn't be screaming unless something had gone horribly wrong.

While Hiccup's voice grew quieter as he moved farther away, two sets of footsteps shuffled to a halt within hearing distance.

"You idiot!" Astrid heard Lech yell, "Are you blind?! I ought to kill you where you stand!"

"I-I didn't mean to, sir, I swear I didn't, I meant to hit the boy!"

"But you didn't! And did I tell you to kill him? Kill him?"

"Of course not, sir, just maim, you know-"

"Then why the bloody hell didn't you?!" Lech screamed madly.

"I tried, sir, I was aiming for the shoulder, I was, but he's a mite shorter than that other one so it hit him in the-"

"That other one is a dragon, a dragon in human form – do you even know what kind of fortune he was going to make me?"

"I'm sorry sir, I swear I didn't mean to-"

"He was going to be my Holy Grail, and you killed him!" a horrible, fleshy smack brought the exchange to a pause.

Astrid's stomach froze. Killed him. They'd… they'd killed Toothless? But… that couldn't happen, could it? It simply wasn't within her realm of comprehension. She shot a glance at Stoick, and he seemed to be having similar problems comprehending.

"You will be leaving this ship at the next port, and don't even think about doing anything remotely significant or I will personally put you down the throat of a gronkle." The captain stalked away, leaving a dejected crewman behind to shuffle away in shame.

Stoick and Astrid had only been half listening past a certain point. "No," Astrid breathed, and she thought she spoke of both of them. "No, they couldn't have… they didn't…" She covered her mouth.

Stoick said nothing, but sank back in his seat and felt simultaneous rushes of rage and helplessness. His son's cries still echoed in his ears, but wherever they'd taken him, there was nothing he could do.

They manhandled Hiccup's prosthetic off of his stump, but he didn't notice in his struggle until they dumped him into a cell and he couldn't stand. The barred door slammed in on him just as he reached it.

"He's still alive!" He called as his captors through the bars, "He's still alive, please help him!" But then a sinking feeling came over him, and something in him told him that no, Toothless wasn't still alive, not anymore. "Please…" He fell back against the cell floor, eyes wide and helpless.

At some point, he looked down and realized that he had Toothless' blood all over him – on his hands, his arms, his trousers from where Toothless' body had laid. It was even on his face, and flecks of it on his tunic. Feeling suddenly sick, he began scratching and scrubbing at himself, rubbing hands against the rivets in the floor in a useless attempt to get the half-dried blood off of them. It was no use, and he only ended up making a bigger mess of himself before the tears came back and made it impossible for him to see.

"Toothless," He moaned aloud although no one was near, "Tóðléas," he curled in on himself, face in his knee, bloody arms around his folded leg, his stump useless beneath him. A thousand memories were playing though his head at once, of flying and falling and learning, of languages and fighting and apologies and some of the most awkward, wonderful hugs of his life. One memory came with a word.

"Broðor," Hiccup said to the air, and he realized it was only to air, that Toothless would never answer. The sobs came back in full. "Broðor!"

Many cells away, Toothless couldn't hear his humans' cries, nor anything else in the world. But Rædwit, curled around his nephew's lifeless body, heard and understood. His heart grew even heavier with grief. Not knowing what else to do, he curled tighter around the body and keened over it, grieving for the two humans with dragons' hearts, for the one who was lost and the one who'd been left behind.

Hiccup could not remember a time when he had cried like he did that night.

He had, perhaps, cried as much the day they'd told him that his mother was dead. That night was burned into his memory, a night of confusion, anger, fear, and yes, tears. But he had been young then, and had not fully understood. He had cried because he knew that his mother would never comfort him again, never hold him or play with him or sing to him again, but his infantile mind hadn't had the scope to feel the weight of everything else.

But now, Hiccup was very nearly a man. He'd seen what life was really like. He knew what death really meant. And he'd seen death itself, his best friend bleeding out on the cold floor. So he cried harder than when his mother had died, harder than he had over anything in his life. He hated the sound of his own sobs echoing back off the metal walls of his cell, because they sounded weak, and they were his, and it was disconcerting to the extreme that he couldn't stop them even if he tried.

Eventually, his body grew too tired to cry anymore, but too shocked to release him into sleep. He sat slumped against the cold wall of his cell for some time, staring at nothing and thinking about nothing, and feeling everything. It was too much, and his body had stopped responding to his will. Even if he'd tried to move, Hiccup doubted his body would comply. Like a waking dream, his future played out before his mind's eye:

Ground bound. Because he would never ride another besides Toothless. Lonely. Because while he had other friends, there was no replacement. Isolated. Berk was on the edge of the world, but he had no one to fly off with anymore. Guilty. Because Toothless had died for him. Mad. Mad at everything, mad at what could have been, mad in his mind.

The hours passed like a nightmare in slow motion, and Hiccup lost track of all time. He felt his buttocks and his legs grow numb as he sat on them, and the part of his scalp that rested against the wall. His shoulder grew sore and his neck cricked in pain, and in the cold his stump began to cramp. He deserved all of it, he knew, so he didn't move. Only stared, and felt, and tried not to think for fear of the dark.

The squeaking of metal against rust jerked him to reality.

"Right, then, come on," a guard said, and sounded like he was almost trying to be gentle because of what Hiccup had been through. The pathetic attempt only made the Viking angrier. "The Captain's decided to give you a second chance, since you're still here. Now, come on." They didn't give him his leg back, and hauled him up between two guards and towards the dragon pen. Hiccup didn't fight them as they opened the massive door to the dragon cage and thrust him in. With only one leg, he fell quickly and tumbled to the ground in a heap. From the ground, he looked to his left and saw a puddle of blood, thick, congealed and smeared against the floor. Realizing what it was, he darted up and away, scrabbling with three limbs across the floor. From the doorway, one of the guards let out a surprised noise.

"What?" Said the other.

"The body of that boy was killed, 't'ain't there no more," the first one pointed.

"Aye," said the other grimly, eyeing the large smears from one side of the puddle, "But look there. Dragged it, some of 'em have. Leave a carcass in a pit full of dragons, what you expect? …Least there won't be no cleanin' up ta do. Come on," he gestured at his comrade and pulled the door closed.

"Disgustin' animals," Said the other, before the door closed.

Left with only slivers of light from the grates above, Hiccup felt his stomach turn. They wouldn't. Surely, surely they wouldn't. He couldn't look over at the dragons there for sudden disgust, but surely they wouldn't have… eaten him, would they? They knew Toothless. They'd just refused to eat another dragon, and before that they'd refused to eat him. Of course… there was that insane nadder. And now that their hopes of escape were dashed, after being so close… well, was it too much to suppose some of them might've snapped? Hiccup could not see Rædwit in the dark. These dragons were very poorly fed. They would be exceptionally hungry, down here… And, as much as he hated to think it, after learning that it was all for naught…

Suddenly nauseous and unable to stand the sight of any of it, Hiccup curled up on his side, cold against the metal, and pulled his knees to his face.

None of the dragons said anything. None of them moved. None of them tested the boundaries of their chains, or even made noise. Hiccup remained in his own world for a long while, too tired to cry, unable to sleep, brain drowning in grief and apathy. He would have to tame the dragons all over again if he wanted to live, if he wanted to get out of here with his father and Astrid, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He just wanted to sleep.

Toothless had called it sleep.

He hadn't thought he had it in him, but somehow another sob appeared and pulled Hiccup further in on himself, his gut aching. There were no tears, only shaking ribs and an aching throat, quick, erratic breaths that he couldn't control. A moan escaped him without his meaning to, echoing too-loud against the walls of the massive, silent cell. He gripped his stomach and tried to stop, because it hurt him. As he tried to pull his aching body back together, he heard claws click against the floor, slowly coming up behind him. He tried to make himself go as still as possible. If they had, in fact, lost it to the point of eating Toothless' body, surely it wouldn't be a stretch for them to… Hiccup rolled into a tight ball. Even if they did, he couldn't put up much of a fight. One-legged, aching, tired, smelling of blood. He didn't stand a chance. The dragon behind him must've had an extra-long chain, because it only stopped when its claws were just at Hiccup's back. Was it a nightmare? A changewing? The timberjack? Hiccup had only a moment to contemplate whether it would be best to die of fire, acid, or razor-sharp wings.

A breath. Soft and fishy, but not smoky, rushing through his hair. It puzzled him, because those smokeless breaths were how dragons greeted each other. It should've been sniffing, figuring out if he was safe to eat. But instead, it was only soft puffs of air, whistling and nonthreatening, playing with whatever hairs on his head hadn't been caked in blood.

Maybe they hadn't snapped. Maybe they'd dragged Toothless body away and given him burial by fire. Maybe they remembered 'Gicpa' through all the blood and dark. But then, they could be up to anything, because none of them would say anything to him. Hiccup put his hand over his head where the breath touched and made himself rigid.

The breaths paused, and Hiccup heard a body shifting behind him. Then, a scaly snout pressed into his back, and a lick on his arm. Then, a heavy weight fell over him, and he opened his eyes to look.

A large black tail prodded at him gently, wrapped around his side so he could see its tip. It sported a tailfin, just one. It should've had two, but one of them was gone, shorn off by familiar scars.

The dragon puffed on the back of his head again, but this time, it said something, too.

"Broðor."