Whoo-hoo, another five up! I really like this bunch, for some odd reason, even though most of them (especially the last two) are somewhat angsty. Sorry 'bout that, but ah well. Enjoy!
~.~
57. Remember
"You have to remember! You have to!"
Toothless stared at the woman, who was nearly hysterical in her fury, and wracked his brain. Who on earth was she?
"I don't." Hiccup returned the woman's angry glare with a steady look, although Toothless could see the bewilderment beneath his best friend's calm outward appearance.
"Gods, you're just as stupid as you were when we were kids! Look, idiot, look at him." The woman took the little boy at her side by the shoulders and swung him around to stand between Hiccup and herself. "He looks exactly like you!"
Toothless and Hiccup studied the little boy, who gazed back at them with big blue eyes. He had a tangled mop of brown hair, a lanky figure, and in those big blue eyes was a naturally curious, inquisitive look that reminded Toothless of. . .
The dragon studied the angry woman. She looked older, and so much more battle scarred than he remembered, but with that classic disapproving glare it could only be—
"Astrid?"
At Hiccup's stunned whisper, her anger melted away, and she ran her fingers through the hair of the little boy who looked so much like both of them. "Hiccup."
Toothless huffed, and Astrid hurried to redeem herself. "And Toothless," she amended with a smile.
58. Lonely
Dragons liked to live in packs. True, some preferred a solitary lifestyle, but there was scarcely a dragon out there who would refuse an offer of friendship from it's own species. There was safety in number, after all, and dragons quite enjoyed an active community. Very rarely would you meet a dragon, of any breed or gender, that didn't.
Toothless was no exception, but there was a bit of a problem with this: he was the only known, living Night Fury.
And sometimes, as honored as he feels to be not just a Night Fury but the Night Fury, Toothless is lonesome for someone like himself. A dragon of medium size with black scales and the ability to shoot purple fireballs. Another Night Fury.
Not to say that he doesn't value Berk and all his Human friends. In fact, if he was ever given a choice between Hiccup and another Night Fury, he would choose Hiccup without a second thought. But sometimes, he wants to know if he truly is as alone as he sometimes feels. Is he some freak of nature, a one-of-a-kind, never-going-to-happen-again hybrid of a dragon, or are there other like him in some far-off land beyond the horizon?
Toothless loves Hiccup and Berk and all his friends and would never, ever give them up, no doubt about it. But once and a while, he feels lonely.
59. Senses
Sometimes, Toothless pities the human race.
They had terrible night vision.
Thunk!
Toothless smirked. Hey, Hiccup, there's a rock there.
In fact, human senses in general were shockingly weak. One would expect that a species so intelligent and advanced would also possess some uncanny sixth sense, but unfortunately, it was quite the opposite. Humans could barely use the five senses that they had been given.
Whap!
Oh boy. Hiccup was going to feel that one tomorrow.
Even the sheep that they bred had better natural senses than their masters—the sheep, at least, could smell predators sneaking up on them.
It was a pity that Hiccup, walking through the woods with Toothless at night, couldn't see the tree branch coming up.
THWAP!
Ouch. Hey, Hiccup, there's a tree there.
60. Damages
In the darkness of the summer night, Hiccup and Gobber's anxious whispers carried on the warm air, floating in the open window. Toothless could pick up snatches of their conversation:
"Lucky to be alive—"
"—caused extreme damage. . . it'll take years to rebuild it all."
"I can't believe that there weren't more casualties—"
"—must be a real fighter, that girl."
"—plus a concussion and extreme blood loss, for the love of Thor!"
The dragon lay curled in a ball on the floor by the bedside, his heart aching as he listened to the boy and the blacksmith. A single ray of silver moonlight had managed to find it's way to the window, and it gently illuminated the mangled figure on the bed.
Tuffnut, perched on the edge of the bed with Toothless at his feet, reached out and gently ran his fingers down the side of this sister's face, the side that wasn't marred beyond recognition with deep, ugly wounds. That side of Ruffnut's face, oddly enough, was one of the very few places where she hadn't endured extreme physical damage.
Noticing the dragon's eyes on him, Tuffnut drew his hand away from her face, but still rested it gently on her arm as if his touch was the only thing that kept her in this world, a tender gesture that few had ever seen from him in his lifetime. He turned to Toothless and, with the tiniest of miserable smiles, whispered in a way that broke the dragon's heart, "I don't think we're twins anymore."
61. Centuries
Dragons didn't age as fast as humans did. It was a quite drastic difference, actually, the human lifespan compared to a dragon's; it took over thirty years for a dragon to hit the human equivalent of thirteen. Thus, dragons, considering they weren't killed before their time, tended to live hundreds of years longer than any human could ever dream of surviving.
Toothless is old now, even by dragon standards, which is saying something. He knows that someday very soon he is going to move on to wherever it is he's going. But he isn't afraid. He was ready to see the other side of paradise a good fifty years ago, and he never really was one to turn away from an adventure, even in his old age. Arthritis and brittle bones may have squashed any remaining youthfulness from his failing body, but he is still young at heart.
Besides, while there are many wonderful things in this life for him to enjoy, something better waits just beyond his grasp. A bustling Viking village, long ago washed away by the sands of time, and with it all the familiar faces that made it what it was. Although Toothless' memory has been failing him lately, he can clearly recall a set of argumentative twins, a tough dark-haired boy with a rather large nose (that no doubt had played a part in his naming), a peg-legged old blacksmith, a fierce blond girl with a battle ax and a wicked temper.
And a boy. A plain, ordinary looking boy with one leg and one unsure father, who was willing to see beyond a dragon's scales and into the soul beneath. One boy who can be nothing more than an ancient, forgotten pile of bones by now, but who accomplished more in one short lifetime than anyone else Toothless has ever met.
They linger just beyond the dragon's reach, whispering to him, and he is ready to meet them now. He is ready to go back to Berk. And the boy. The boy he met, all those centuries ago.