A/N: I've been trying to finish this chapter for a very long time. For those of you reading this, thanks for your patience. Enjoy.

It'd taken long enough to plot a course, and longer still to muster enough courage to put it in their sights. But now, years later, they'd finally done it. They'd arrived. But they'd both grown up, first.

Hiccup had a beard, now. Toothless liked teasing him about it, even though it really wasn't much of a beard by Viking standards. He was tall too, long of leg and lanky of limb, tied together by wiry muscles. Toothless had grown up with him. Hiccup had never been one to understand the significance of night fury growth patterns, not even when Toothless explained them, but Toothless was an adult now. He'd grown into his brow and his chest. His jaw had thickened out and he'd even begun growing his fringe – what Hiccup teasingly called his 'dragon stubble'. He was taller, bigger, stronger, with longer wings that inevitably curved up at the ends just how a grown dragons' should. Toothless didn't think that Hiccup realized exactly how much he'd changed over the years. He certainly didn't understand how much he'd changed since he'd been here, seen them. He didn't fully understand. But he had an idea. So when he patted Toothless' neck and felt the dragon trembling with nervousness, he didn't say anything, but did his best to exude calm.

"Alright there, bud," Hiccup said softly, as a promise instead of a question. He gave a reassuring scratch and dismounted. He took off his helmet and looked up the hill, where they'd said they'd arrive. Just beyond the grassy rise, there would be a party waiting.

Wordlessly, in a way that they'd discussed but now seemed entirely alien, Hiccup unbuckled all of Toothless' gear strap by strap, sliding it off his back and tucking it away.

Before, Toothless hadn't wanted them to see him with it all on, for fear of their judgment. Now, he felt like a frightened hatchling, and wanted the comfort of snug leather and a warm human heart at his back.

"Gicpa," he said sometime through the process, worry all through his voice. Hiccup only patted the dragon's chest where he could reach. The human didn't actually say anything, so Toothless swallowed and added, "I don't know if I can do this… I can't, not without you."

"No, Æðelin, Hiccup used the name in gravity, and Toothless felt it, too, "This one you have to fly on your own." And his voice sounded too thick for Toothless to believe that he wasn't feeling it, too.

"Like when you fall, though."

"What?"

"I'll fly alone like when you choose to fall – you'll be beside me anyway, flying too."

Hiccup smiled through his stubble. "Yeah, like that. But this time I'll be behind you, and you need to focus on what's in front of you. Alright?" He went around to Toothless' tail where the dragon couldn't see. Even in his waxy black scales, Toothless felt naked when the tail came off.

"I'm scared," he confided.

"You don't have to be." Dragonese soothed him, just like Hiccup knew it would. "They know you're here. They've been waiting. They love you, Toothless." Hiccup set aside the bundle of saddle, wing, and gear, and came up to Toothless' head. He held the dragon's chin and rubbed his knuckles along the bend of his forehead and snout. "That is… Æðelin."

"You are Æðelin, Gicpa. I am only Toðléas, now," Toothless insisted. Hiccup sighed and shook his head.

"You are their son, and their brother, and their friend. And they know you'll have changed. But… don't deny them the chance to love you still, Toothless."

Years ago, Toothless would never have expected these gems of wisdom from Hiccup, the awkward, weedy boy that he'd met in the cove. He'd learned better since those days, because Hiccup was no longer a boy. He'd been through enough battles to learn wisdom the hard way. Toothless closed his eyes and pressed his face into Hiccup's warm stomach.

"It'll be alright," Hiccup soothed in Dragonese, "Be brave. I'll be just behind you. I won't leave." And he pushed the dragon away perhaps too soon. "Now go on," in Norse. "They'll come over here if you don't hurry it up." He pushed lightly on the crook of his wing.

Trembling and struggling all the way, Toothless made his legs move up the small hill, his tail feeling abnormally obvious in its lameness, his back feeling weak and bare without Hiccup's weight there. At the last moment, he looked back over his shoulder. Hiccup was some metres behind him, the tailfin and all its gear strapped neatly to his back. He grinned in that definitively Hiccup way, and Toothless knew it ought to have been enough.

A thousand thoughts passed through his mind in the moments before he crested the hill, but they disappeared when he saw them.

Sweet skies how they'd changed, in every way and no way at all. He froze on the spot. His mother saw him first and Toothless was sure he would've cried if he wasn't shocked senseless.

"….Lin?" She asked tentatively. Toothless couldn't speak for a moment.

"…Mother," he choked, and realized too late that she'd never heard him when his voice was this deep.

Her lavender eyes went wide, then she cried and leaped, nudging him in the nose, the neck, the wings, prancing around him, flaring her fringe and her wings so happily he couldn't think for a moment. But when others began joining him, he noticed her silver scales and remembered how long it'd been. His father came next, even more silvery than his mother. And then, two nearly grown dragons that took him longer to recognize. When he did, he did cry.

"Broðor! Æðelin!" They chorused.

"Willgebróðor," he said, but choked halfway through. The youngest was the largest, now, but apparently just as energetic as he had been when Toothless left. He lept and licked his lips in excitement, hopping and nudging while the older was more shy and tentative in his movements.

"You are here! You are here!" The younger cried. The older smiled.

"Skies, you've grown!" Toothless said.

"They're not the only ones! Good meeting, Toðléas!" The voice and the name made him turn.

"Uncle!"

They shared a headbut, a dragon's version of a familiar hug. "Look at you! Every time I see you, you double in size!"

Toothless laughed and glanced somewhat shyly at his father, who was watching the scene in his quiet way. He looked like he'd had the world lifted from his shoulders. "It has been far too long."

"Aye, and a long trip to get here. You must be exhausted." Rædwit paused, glancing around. "And surely you didn't come all this way without your one-legged tail. Where is he?"

"Ah, he's-" Toothless began, but was interrupted by his mother, who saw his tail and gasped. He turned, not knowing why she was alarmed, and saw her staring. "Ah," was all he said. Dragons could not blush, but if he could, Toothless would have. His mother looked sheepish.

"I… that is, your uncle told us, but I didn't think… all of it is gone."

"It's hard for me to think of it that way anymore," Toothless admitted, still a bit embarrassed that now everyone was ogling his lameness.

"Having known your replacement, I daresay you got the better end of the deal," Rædwit lightened the mood a bit. A few dragons looked confused, but Toothless smiled.

"Do you speak of the human hatchling Gicpa?" Toothless' father asked.

"No longer a hatchling, but yes," Toothless said, and turned back to his uncle. "If you think I've grown, uncle, you won't even recognize Gicpa."

"Which is why I'd like to see the man! Where did he hobble off to?"

"He'd resent the 'hobble'. He's just down the hill."

"Was he afraid to come?" Asked his younger brother.

"Did he not want to see us?" Asked the older.

"No, nothing like that," Toothless assured them. "he believed… he stayed behind as a kindness. Out of respect for our family."

"How is that respectful?" the younger brother said, slightly hurt. Toothless chuckled.

"I forget these days how different human culture is from dragon culture. With humans, giving others privacy is a gesture of respect. Especially when dealing with… emoational matters. Shall I go and fetch him?"

"Please do," his mother said. Toothless turned around, ignoring the whispering that came when they could all see his tail again, and glanced down the hill. Hiccup was leaning up against the buddle of Toothless' saddle with a sketchbook in his lap.

"Gicpa!" Toothless called. Hiccup turned his head. "They want to meet you! Come over here!"

There was a pause. "Well that was fast," Hiccup said in Norse, and stood unsteadily to his feet. He gathered up their things and began hiking up the hill. "Good gods," He huffed as he reached the crest, "That is way harder than you made it look, bud." He dropped Toothless' gear into a heap. "You and your stupid wings make everything look… easy." He stopped when he looked up at the massive weyr in front of him. He hadn't expected them to be right there. He thought they'd be a way off, scattered, or fewer, but… there they were. There they all were. Night furies. His mouth was inexplicably dry.

"What a funny voice he has," he heard a juvenile dragon whisper. The night furies stared at him with as much awkward awe as he did them, until a familiar voice said,

"Great skies, Gicpa, you're a giant!"

Hiccup saw Rædwit picking his way through the crowd, and his face broke into a smile.

"Rædwit!" he said, and stepped forward to hug the fury around the neck. "It's good to see you too!" Hiccup didn't hear it when there was another murmur of excitement. They had heard he could speak dragonese, but not all of them had believed it.

"So this is the human that we've heard so much about," said an older fury. As he stepped up to meet Hiccup, the others parted and ducked their heads respectfully.

"He is, father," Toothless replied, stressing 'father' helpfully. Hiccup's eyes widened.

"You're…?" he gestured vaguely, and then straightened and bowed slightly. "It is an honor to finally meet you, sir."

"You are the one who saved my son and my brother. I assure you, Gicpa, the honor is completely mine."

Hiccup smiled nervously, and nodded. The ice seemed to break after that, and Toothless happily introduced Hiccup to all of his family members, his cousins, his uncles and aunts, his second and third cousins, and even his grandparents. There were plenty of night fury families of the weyr to whom Toothless wasn't related, and they came up in their turn to meet the dragon-tongued human in their midst. At some point in the mingling party, Rædwit spotted Toothless' younger brother sniffing at the saddle and gear. He turned to Toothless and Hiccup,

"Toðléas, I regret to tell you that I've been bragging on your flying skills, and your brother Hádor is dying to issue you an ánwíg."

"A… what wig?" Hiccup asked nervously.

"Ánwíg, it means… how would you say… it's like a duel. A spar, of sorts, only with flying."

"Like a race?"

"No, more like… a competition to see who is the better flyer. Speed, tricks, that sort of thing."

Hiccup smiled. "Sounds like my kind of competition." A few of the dragons chuckled.

"Aye, but I have not flown against another night fury since I was a hatchling."

"Nonetheless, would you accept, broðor?" Hádor asked hopefully.

"Come now, that would hardly be fair, what with…" their mother paused, glancing guiltily at Toothless tail. "You'd have an unfair advantage, Hádon, he said himself he hasn't flown against another Furyn in a while,"

"The unfair advantage would be mine, I'm afraid," Toothless said in a proud way, "I'd have an extra brain strapped to my back, and unfortunately, it's the brain of a madman."

"I'll just take that as a complement," Hiccup said. Rædwit laughed.

"Oh go on," their uncle egged them on, "You're both brilliant in the skies separately - It'll be fun to watch you together."

Hádor nodded his agreement, and looked to Toothless, who in turn looked to Hiccup. "What do you say, Gicpa?"

Hiccup scoffed. "You're asking me if I would be okay with a competition?" he said in sarcastic Norse. There was an awkward pause when he realized that the other dragons could not understand him. He cleared his throat. "I would love to," he said in dragonese. The furies cheered. "Now turn around so I can suit you up," He said to Toothless.

The night furies slowly gathered to watch as Hiccup unveiled the bright red tailfin (some whispered that the red was a bit gaudy. Hiccup chose to ignore them) and strapped it to Toothless' tail. The saddle was next, the straps, the ropes, the pedals and pulleys. Toothless and Hiccup both stayed silent throughout the exchange, depending on body language alone to complete the ritual they'd been through hundreds of times.

"You've made some upgrades, I see." Rædwit commented. Hiccup chuckled.

"Blame puberty. We had to." Rædwit wasn't sure what 'puberty' was. Toothless gave him a look that said he would explain later.

Last of all, Hiccup hauled himself up into the saddle, locked his leg into place, and put on his helmet. Rædwit and Toothless' parents were smiling, but many of the furies present looked skeptical.

"Isn't it hard to fly like that?" asked Toothless' older brother asked skeptically.

"The drag would be too much," said another.

"...Far too top heavy, now,"

"…Just fall off"

"…have to look after him all the time."

Hiccup wanted to like them, he really did. But he also wanted them to respect him and his place in Toothless' life. He set his jaw and drew up the chief's voice he'd developed over the years. "Well why don't you all just watch and let Toothless and I show you how to fly?"

There was a murmur of astonishment – respectful astonishment, though. Toothless was eying Hiccup from under the saddle, a quiet you didn't and I have taught you well combined into the same look.

"Right, you ready, bud?" Hiccup asked in Norse. It was tradition, after all.

"Whenever you are." Toothless gave a slight nod, and his family made a space for him to take off. Toothless yelled, "Beat this, broðor!" to Hádor, and began running. In a few massive bounds, he and Hiccup were in the skies. Every word spoken between them after that was inaudible, part of the unspoken language of flight that they had forged over the years.

They turned, they twisted, they dived and banked, spinning and leaping through clouds and currents. Hiccup had no idea what the night furies below though, and he really didn't care.

It was not long, however, before Hádor's impressive wingspan floated up beside them.

"Not bad, brother! Not bad at all – either of you."

"You accept the Ánwig, then?" Toothless asked.

"Of course we do. Now lets see what you can do!"

It was a sportsmanly, friendly affair, Hiccup would be assured later. But in that moment, it was pure energy and muscle and determination to show off more than the other. If it was a competition, it felt like an important competition.

Hiccup had to admit, Hádor gave a strong competition. He was fast, moved unpredictably, and some of his spins made Hiccup dizzy just thinking about it. But he was determined to prove himself, to prove that Toothless was twice the dragon for his loss of a tailfin. With all that they'd been through, taught themselves, learned, they would have to be better.

"Toothless, bank towards him!" Hiccup yelled over the wind.

"What? Why?"

In reply, Hiccup unlatched his leg and locked Toothless' tail. The fury laughed, and did as he was told. Hádor hardly saw them coming until Hiccup was out of the saddle and hurtling towards him. Hiccup laughed at the fury's startled expression and landed hard enough on his left wing, making the dragon falter in his course. But before Hádon could protest, Hiccup had danced across his wing, onto his back, and across the second wing, doing backflips in the air, whooping for joy as he fell to the earth where night furies watched below.

"Broðor!" Hádor cried in hesitant alarm as he watched the human fall, "Broðor, you've lost your Gicpa!"

"Not lost," Toothless said, sailing along calmly, watching Hiccup like a proud father from above, "just dropped."

Hádor did not see how this was better, but then, just before Hiccup became a blob of mashed human on the ground, he pulled his arms to his sides, yanked them back, and flew.

"What in the name of…" Hádor said. Toothless laughed.

"Does it take more courage for a dragon fly with a human on his back, or for a human to make his own wings to fall on?" Leaving his brother with that to think on, Toothless flicked his locked tail and dove, sailing alongside his human and giving him a few fireballs to fly on. Toothless had never told Hiccup that this was how night furies taught their young to fly, but the resemblance garnered a few chuckles from below. Eventually, after Hiccup spun around for a bit, he dropped the wings to his side and fell like a stone, letting Toothless dive into place beside him. The two spiraled downwards, spinning and batting at each other's arms. Just before it was too late, Toothless turned under Hiccup and let his wings fill with air. They skimmed the sea as they slapped up into a flying position once more, Hiccup whooping again at their successful skydive.

Hádor was still catching up to them, trying to top their diving and spinning with his own.

Toothless banked them around to spin on a dime above his watching weyr. "Uncle!" he called to Rædwit, "You'll remember this one – we made it better!"

As Toothless flew away, his mother turned to her brother. "What is he talking about, broðor?"

Rædwit watched uneasily as Hiccup slammed Toothless' tail into a vertical launch. "I'm not sure, Swéo. It's been a while since…" They disappeared into the clouds, and just as they did, Rædwit saw Toothless let his wings fall open. His ears fell limp against his skull. "Oh no."

Toothless and Hiccup reappeared, except Toothless was falling upside down, Hiccup sitting straight from the saddle, looking down at the sea upside-down. The weyr gasped, some of the younger ones asking the older ones what on earth Æðelin thought he was doing. Toothless' own mother looked like she was growing grey scales by the second, and Rædwit could sympathize. But then, if it were possible, it got worse.

Still upside-down, using the force of falling to his advantage, Hiccup stood up in the saddle, walked to Toothless' nose, and leaped off. His lighter body sailed upward, but he grabbed onto Toothless' saddle girth and danced onto the dragon's stomach, even daring to tickle the fury. Toothless wrapped his wings around Hiccup and fell harder, until the water was almost too close. Then, he twirled and let his wings out. Hiccup hung onto the tip of one, and flew upwards in a wild spiral, cheering for fun. Toothless dodged to catch his rider, and Hiccup slid from his nose to his back, running around the fury's neck like a floating log as the dragon spun in the air. The night furies on land erupted into roars of applause.

Hiccup had actually forgotten that they were in a competition until Hádor flew up beside them, panting and laughing tiredly. "Alright! Alright, you win! Yield, Æðelin!" He glanced at Hiccup, who was only just making it back to the saddle. "Both of you. Well flown, broðor!"

Toothless gave a short, "Told you!" and laughed his way to the ground.

The furies roared with congratulations and astonishment as the two dragons and one human skidded to a stop on the turf.

"Well done! Well done, both of you," Toothless' father said, "You especially, Æðelin." Then the older fury opened his jaws and let a small but very hot burst of flame fly out and right onto Toothless' wing. It did not hurt the dragon at all, but he flinched.

"Watch it!" he said to his sire, "This leather isn't exactly fireproof." But not everyone had heard him, and some of the other furies sent their own congratulatory bursts of flame in his direction. It was harmless fun, a victory tradition like humans toasted glasses or shook hands. But, in their mixed company, some of them got a bit over-excited.

"What the-" Hiccup was watching the fiery exchange in confusion. "Why are you…" he turned, and came face to face with Toothless' very excited cousin. Blue was rising in the back of his throat. Hiccup choked on the end of his question and leaped backwards, hands going up. "Toothless!" He shouted in alarm.

Toothless' head shot around at the tone. He knocked over several of his relatives as he leaped and dove around his rider. Once the fireball had hit his hide and dispersed, he looked up and growled, glaring at the offending dragon in unmediated rage.

"What do you think you're doing? He's not fireproof, either! Are you all trying to burn the earth into extinction? Good gods, why do we even do that? All you have to do is think before you draw up your fumes and torch your damn neighbors to death, you can't just assume that every creature in the world will brush plasma off their hides like it's nothing, you could have bloody killed him!"

All of them were staring at him. Hiccup was digging his way out from beneath Toothless' wings, and he did a double take when he glanced at his friend.

"Uh, Toothless?" He said, carefully, glancing between him and the other furies, who were staring at him with wide eyes.

"What?" Toothless asked, glaring still.

"Might want to calm it down before you torch something." Hiccup hesitantly patted Toothless' neck, which had begun to glow with a pulse of bright blue. When Toothless still didn't seem to understand, Hiccup whispered to him, "You're not alpha here, bud, settle down."

Toothless squinted at his rider until he understood, and yelped in alarm. Mortified, Toothless drew back the inner flame he hadn't realized he'd called up. The glow receded. His back plates were still split, and he slammed them shut in an embarrassed snap. Silence. The rest of the dragons continued to stare.

It was Toothless' younger brother who broke the silence first. "No bloody way." His mother snapped at him for language, but never actually took her eyes off of Toothless.

Rædwit, who knew Toothless somewhat better than the others, stepped up next. "I have a feeling, nephew, that there is a story behind that trick of yours."

Toothless was incredibly sheepish. Hiccup did not know the legends that these dragons had grown up on, the stories and old tales that helped them recognize what had just happened. He also didn't know that none of them had ever actually believed that it was real. So Hiccup didn't understand Toothless' hesitation as the fury glanced nervously at his parents, his brothers, his weyr. Hiccup ignored the tension and spoke in that awkward, easy way of his whenever he was trying to downplay the magnitude of what had become his everyday life.

"Well, funny thing, but eh…," said the human in accented dragonese, "it's a bit of a long story…"

Rædwit chuckled. "With you two, it seems it always is." He sat up straight, and curled his tail around himself. Hiccup noticed for the first time that day that he could see the fury's slow-healing scars left by Lech and his weapons, dotted across his front legs and chest. "But in the past, I've found that both of you are well worth listening to." Rædwit smiled, and the other dragons began to take similar listening poses in front of the shy alpha and his one-legged chief, who looked at each other.

It was just a glance, but looking at each other, they both suddenly realized how long a story it really was. How long ago had they met? Fought Lech? Become alphas? Years of loss, and learning, and growth, and experience. Years of… life. They scanned each other's faces in those brief seconds, neither knowing how to begin to explain the changes wrought over the years. They turned as one to their attentive audience. Toothless glanced at his uncle, who knew more than the rest. He looked at the rest of his family, who looked lost, but so, so hopeful. Rædwit had told them of Toothless' tail, of why he'd been away, but they had not heard his story. That was his to tell. He drew a breath.

"Well," Toothless said, fidgeting with his tail, "I suppose I ought to start at the beginning." He shifted nervously, and Hiccup put his hand on the dragon's shoulder, using it as a prop to sit down around his peg leg. Toothless waited for him to settle before he began. Hiccup gave him an encouraging pat.

"Once upon a time, there was a very lost dragon and a very small Viking, and they were blood enemies. But then one day, when they had the chance, neither could kill the other. When they tried, they forgot and what they were, and could only see what they would become: brothers."