Minding the Fort
Chapter Five: The Mind's Eye, Part III
He'd gotten stuck.
The presence of freshwater had tempted him into the cove, where he'd realized too late that due to some bizarre geological machination the area was sunk in with no exit out. None large enough to fit his girth anyway. Forgetting he lacked a tail fin, the Fury had dropped into the cove to drink and snap at some fish and upon attempting to fly out discovered that the lone fin adjusted his flight so radically that he could not stay aloft for more than a second or two.
Other dragons did not have tail fins. Other dragons did not need them. Gronckles were so stubby they were more like flying thumbs. The Fury felt irritation that the removal of the thing that made him faster and most acrobatic among dragons made him utterly useless without it.
The Fury was there a full day, attempting to scrabble up the steep sides only to fall back unsuccessfully. During his unwilling sojourn he noticed odd signs of a previous occupant, a dragon—and judging by the scales laying scattered around the short cliff, a Night Fury no less. And yet the Fury did not detect the scent of any dragon other than himself.
He sheltered in the cave overnight. Inside there was more evidence of another dragon.
Again his dreams were dogged by strange, unreal images that were somehow familiar. The Fury dreamed of the crash, streaking to the earth like a falling star. Except the stars could never be roped in the way he had been; they were untouchable. As little more than a hatchling he'd been determined to go to the stars and see where they lived and how they stayed aloft. When your wings laid bare the world it seemed impossible that there could be anything unreachable. Each time he'd set out with determination, he flew a little higher until his lungs heaved and his wings churned in dead air—yet the stars always hung far above.
The hatchling grew older and understood the stars were not to be reached. Still he stayed here, in this inhospitable place with its humans and horrific queen, rather than scatter like the remaining Night Furies with strength of mind to evade the enormous beast's pull—because here, the stars seemed so much clearer and closer than they did anywhere else.
The Fury understood now what thing had been missing from the back of his mind. The familiar tug of the queen's demanding appetite was gone. That mute but forceful command had always lingered on the edge of his consciousness, distant enough to be usually suppressed (unless within close range), but ever present and persistent. Its absence was a perplexing relief.
When the Zippleback had landed carrying the two humans, the Fury had been dozing inside the cave but was quickly alerted to their presence. Their scents registered immediately as the two most familiar to him.
He watched them as they dismounted and examined the area. They did not appear to notice that the cove had an occupant. The girl had its hands on its hips and was looking around with a critical eye. And the boy, Hiccup. It waded a few inches into the shallow end of the pool. It took another step and wrenched its metal leg from the muck.
The girl saw him first. Blue eyes widened, and the axe was suddenly in its hand.
"Hiccup," it said.
Hiccup turned and saw the Fury lurking in the cave. "Toothless!"
The Fury rankled, but his aggravation was matched by embarrassment. They would understand that he was stuck there. How humiliating.
For a moment the boy stared. Then it said, "I need a fish."
"What's a fish going to do?" the girl demanded.
"It's a conciliatory gesture," the boy said with a nervous giggle.
The Fury was not in the mood to be conciliatory. This was ridiculous.
He advanced on them with cold intent. The girl held its axe firmly, and he saw a knife at the boy's belt, but it was the other dragon he was careful of. Zipplebacks were unpredictable, having two heads of an independent mind each, and just when you had one figured out the other would do something completely unexpected.
Would the dragon defend the two humans? Now was as good a time as any to find out. As he slunk around the bank he saw the girl inch closer to the Zippleback with slow and deliberate movements.
"Get on the dragon, Hiccup," it said, never taking its eyes off the Fury. "Now."
Surely it knew the boy would never make it there. The Fury was far too fast and the boy was hindered by its metal leg. Hiccup understood this.
"I can't. But you should."
If they hadn't been so focused on the Fury, the girl might have rolled its eyes. "That is not happening."
The Fury chose to concentrate on the boy first, but he kept a careful eye on the girl gripping the weapon. Hiccup backed away as the dragon came much too close. It raised its tiny hands.
"Toothless, don't," it said.
The Fury edged forward.
"Toothless—you're not yourself now," it kept talking.
Another step.
"But maybe you will be someday. And you'll remember what you did. I don't want that for you."
How could this creature stand there and proselytize his compassion? And yet its composure was admirable. Still, the Fury stepped into the water.
So did the Zippleback. Or rather it leaped in, sending a wave crashing over the girl. It yelled instinctively and shielded its head. The Zippleback paddled almost comically towards them, lacking the wing strength to make the short leap over with no runway to build momentum. The two heads stretched out in front with determination.
The Fury felt aggravated. What had happened to unity among dragons? Humans had changed everything, and he had missed it all.
Or—he hadn't. Or he had been there through all of it. It seemed incomprehensible but he had awoken in a human residence with no bonds to restrain him. A human boy had embraced him gladly and with familiarity.
Could he have been involved all along? Even—as an abettor?
Instinctively he attempted to remember, and jerked as a new memory bloomed where it hadn't been before. It was as though he'd gone up a familiar path and seen a tree that he hadn't never noticed, although it'd clearly been growing there for some time. Once again, were he human—a new chapter in an old book.
Flying. The old natural freedom of movement, and a fin on his tail that was not his but moved in such accord with air currents and his own motions that it could have been.
It was so frustrating. The world was such a tumultuous place, it was only fair for any dragon to expect security in his own head, but the Fury found no comfort there—only mysteries and holes. In his severe vexation the Fury blazed a hot bolt of white anger that scalded the water in front and made fierce boils bubble and pop on the surface, but he did not inject the lightning into the blast as he could have. Hiccup flinched from the hot steam and staggered back a little.
The Zippleback misunderstood this as a gesture of attack. The gas-breather hissed, but did not jettison its green smoky venom, and the igniter head sparked convulsively. The blonde girl suddenly began shouting at the dragon from the bank, waving her arms and jumping away from the water.
A spark of lightning struck the water and from there spasmed outwards, ripping the pool surface and crackling. Several fish close by instantly bobbed to the surface, stone dead.
The Fury had just time to be fascinated at the effect—he'd intentionally done the same thing as a hatchling for his own amusement and a quick meal—before it swept over him.
A strong tingle rippled through his body as though it was being rinsed from the inside out with shockingly icy water. It tickled all over, almost hurting but not quite, and he wiggled in that uncomfortable way of someone who is getting tickled unwillingly. It especially centered in his head; he could feel his skull shaking. It was not so much painful as strongly unpleasant, but it was over in a few moments and the tingling subsided.
Toothless shook the webs from his head.
Standing safely on the bank, Astrid was scolding the Zippleback for its carelessness. The head named Glory looked highly embarrassed; the other—Guts, was it?—being the gas breather, was rather smug. After all, he only ever provided kindling. Glory was responsible for throwing the spark and liable for anything that got fried unintentionally. The sight reminded him powerfully of the Thorston twins, with Ruffnut ever superior at Tuffnut's antics.
Chuckling deep in his throat, Toothless looked over his shoulder to see if Hiccup was amused or exasperated. Often it was a mixture of both. He had been standing a few inches deep in the pool, but he was not standing now.
Hiccup lay on his back in the shallows with his face turned to the sky, as he had often done on grass when the weather was particularly fine. Except this time he was not smiling, or moving, or breathing.
If Toothless had looked again at the bank he would have seen the horror on Astrid's face and how she momentarily froze, eyes darting to Toothless at first in fright and then sudden comprehension before ripping her feet from where they'd been fixed to the ground. Dropping her axe, she began bolting around the bank. Toothless hardly noticed her.
He trumpeted in alarm and rushed forward to seize Hiccup's harness, dragging him out of the shallows and onto the dry bank. The Zippleback went berserk, both heads weaving wildly and bellowing. Astrid skidded around the curve and dropped to her knees at Hiccup's side, trying to fight off the hysterical Night Fury. Toothless balked.
"Stop, stop!" she shouted. "Let me see him!"
She shoved at his nose and he nearly bit her hand off for it.
Astrid ignored him. She felt at Hiccup's neck with two fingers, then blanched and began to hit his chest, which was still dry. Toothless roared in her ear. She was striking him! What did she think she was doing—he bellowed again with near-deafening force and she gritted her teeth and would not move. Toothless was about to knock her aside when suddenly Hiccup began coughing and color flooded back into his face. Astrid stopped beating at his chest and sat back on her heels, wide-eyed.
Hiccup did not sit up immediately but lay heaving and clutched at his throat. Toothless buried his nose in the boy's shoulder, making soft sounds. Astrid stared at them both in turns, caught between relief and amazement.
Gutsandglory was still panicking, darting forward fearfully and catching itself short of reaching them. Its forked tail thrashed and whacked the ground in distress and it was afraid to get too close.
Poor Hiccup wheezed for several minutes. Eventually breathing came a little more easily. When he finally opened his eyes, he focused on the first thing he saw: Astrid's anxious face right above his.
"Hi," he rasped. "You're pretty. Who are you?"
Astrid laughed in relief before really understanding what he'd said. She stopped and frowned with her hands clutching her knees. "What?"
His words were breathy but intelligible, spoken with pauses. "Do I know you? Why have you got skulls all over your shirt? That's kind of freaky."
The look he directed at Astrid held no recognition. Toothless felt his heart sink.
"Hiccup—" Astrid looked stunned. "It's me. I'm Astrid. Don't you remember what—" Realization dawned and her mouth dropped in mortification. Toothless could only watch in confusion and worry. "Oh no. No, no no."
Jerking forward, she seized Hiccup's shoulders in a tight grip. "Hiccup! Don't you even dare—not you too—"
Hiccup withstood it for about two seconds before he began to grin.
"What the..." Astrid gaped, then her face suddenly contorted in fury and she dealt him such a punch to the ribs that he doubled over, wheezing his laughter. "You ass!"
By now Toothless was just lost, but the danger seemed to have passed except for the threat presented by a very angry Viking girl who looked ready to stop Hiccup's breathing all over again. Hiccup rolled onto his side, still chuckling weakly, and after a good heated glare Astrid gave him a hand in sitting up.
"I am never going to forgive you," she hissed, without real venom. Then she hugged him abruptly. "Just so you know, I would have bashed the memories back into your head if I had to steal Thor's hammer to do it."
Evidently unconvinced, Hiccup smiled at her and rubbed at his chest, harumphing to try and hide the extent of his coughing. He became aware of a Night Fury looming over him, and flinched before he could stop himself.
Then he looked up.
Whatever it was that had kindled in the dragon's eyes, whatever thing was there that had not been previously, Hiccup saw it immediately and stared in astonishment before gasping—whether from happiness or difficulty in breathing—and struggling up.
"Toothless!"
The dragon embraced him with wings and arms and tail, wrapping him up in a tight hug. Hiccup laughed and reached up to scratch behind Toothless's head plates. Astrid got up from her knees and after making sure once and for all that the dragon's hug didn't have any sinister intentions went over to calm Gutsandglory.
Hiccup patted his nose. "How'd you get it all back, bud?" he murmured. Toothless could only croon.
Deciding the 'how' was not all that important to his boy. Hiccup was as happy as the dragon had ever seen him. The past few days were a little unclear; with some effort Toothless vaguely remembered getting roped up, and with a neauseated feeling also recalled having pinned Hiccup to the ground—and not playfully. The memory was difficult to grasp, like recalling a nightmare.
Reading his mood, Hiccup scratched him reassuringly. "It's done, buddy. Everything's fine."
Was it? The dragon felt anxious, trying furiously to remember what had led up to this. Recollection was misty and evasive, and unpleasant—like observing a different creature. With some effort a few things from the past few days materialized into solid memory, and Toothless was taken aback.
The doomed ship rocking wildly in the sea, the great wooden mast that gave up the fight against battering winds and came crashing down on him. The tremendous headache afterward that felt like someone had released a herd of Terrible Terrors inside his skull.
Hiccup subsided into coughing. No, everything was not fine. Toothless sniffed at him, trying to detect burns.
Astrid returned, beaming, and joined them. Her approach was missing the wariness Toothless had sensed from her before, and she laid a hand on the dragon's neck without hesitation. The axe lay forgotten on the ground.
"I wonder how," she started, but couldn't finish. She shook her head.
"It doesn't matter," said Hiccup. He looked up at Toothless and smiled. "But let's not do it again, okay?"
Behind them Gutsandglory came sneaking up with heads held low. Hiccup looked around Toothless and saw the dragon's twin agonized faces.
"I think you gave us a 'shock,'" he said with a small grin. "Get it?" He raised his hands as Gutsandglory looked horrified. "Kidding! Kidding! Odin, a guy can't joke about anything around here."
Astrid helped to steady him. "You have such a weird sense of humor."
Toothless could only agree.
Both of them helped Hiccup hobble to a rock where he sagged down and carefully removed his prosthetic with trembling fingers, picking at the leather straps and gingerly handling the metal on which water was still beaded. "Oh man. Good thing it wasn't touching my skin," he said a little more solemnly.
It was a scary thought. The leather insulation that cushioned the metal was fairly scorched. Astrid paled a little, and helped check for burns.
Getting back to Berk was going to be a bit of a trial. Hiccup could not walk very well even after strapping the (now dry) prosthetic leg back on, and Toothless was still stuck without his tail fin. Neither was happy at the prospect of parting so soon after their reunion.
Astrid volunteered to fetch the fin.
"Don't forget the harness," Hiccup reminded her.
"Uh huh."
"And can you grab something for an in-flight snack on the way back?"
"Sit down, Hiccup."
Hiccup remained seated against the rock as she clambered onto Gutsandglory's back. After a last reassurance that Hiccup was okay, the dragon took off laboriously and barely cleared the short cliff wall. A few stones clattered down noisily and further away some thrashing of branches could be heard as the Zippleback gained altitude.
"I think the cove's been nixed," said Hiccup, half to himself.
Toothless curled his tail around Hiccup. The boy patted it comfortingly, and flexed fingers that were still stiff from the shock he'd received. The poor boy was as cooked as an egg in one of those inexplicable Viking campfires.
As if reading the dragon's mind, Hiccup grinned and said, "Medium rare." He flicked the metal leg. "But one drumstick's already spoken for."
Toothless huffed, not feeling quite up to being jocular just yet. This was different than the time that Hiccup had woken up in bed after the fight against the Red Death. This didn't have the same feeling of victory, and he wasn't proud of his part in it. The Night Fury still was having trouble connecting the fragments of time that linked the most recent events together, and Hiccup, being Hiccup, was trying to distract him.
"Maybe a wooden leg wouldn't be so bad," Hiccup mused. "Might be easier to swim in. Like—a sport-peg. Painted to accessorize."
Had he really shoved his boy to the ground? Toothless laid his sleek head down. He did not want to remember; he wanted to pretend that it had never happened. Hiccup was willing to.
"Some racing stripes. How's that sound?"
Toothless did not react. A moment later he felt Hiccup's hand on his head.
"Everything's going to be fine." Pause. "We'll go for a good flight."
The Fury felt a little better.
Thus (sort of) concludes the arc. This was a difficult chapter to write! I may yet edit a few things but I was sick of tinkering with it for now. One of the several odd Google searches that I did to research this chapter: "Can electric eels get electrocuted?"