Chapter 8

"Oi! Looks like someone's been having a bit of fun."

The look I gave Gobber could have wilted a flower. My chase with Toothless had ended in a mud puddle – great for me, because Toothless's weight meant that he stuck and couldn't keep up; but also terrible for me, because now my lower half was covered in mud. Especially my tail. I was sure there were at least a couple of lumps attached to it.

In his good hand, Gobber held a pair of metal tongs, which he clicked together as he asked, "Now, where's your dragon at?"

A good question. Toothless was nearby, for sure. I could feel it. When I looked around though, I couldn't see any sign of green eyes.

But I was a dragon now . . .

I took a deep breath. Air flowed through my nostrils, and my brain set to work, splitting each scent from the rest like a weaver carefully unwinding one thread from the spool. I tasted Gobber and the forge, the sweat of my father from inside the forge, mud, and a rainstorm that appeared to be on its way. And, I tasted Night Fury.

There he was. He was lurking under a cart, sneaking up on me. As not to alarm my stealthy dragon friend, I flicked my ears in his direction, alerting Gobber to his presence. Gobber grinned.

"Alright then." He casually moved back into the forge. "If he isn't around . . ."

Right when Gobber vanished from sight, Toothless sprung. He ate up the distance in bounds, eyes firmly on his prey, aka me. He had no idea Gobber was waiting just inside the forge, counting down the seconds . . .

"Got you!"

Gobber's weight flattened Toothless to the ground. But only for a moment, as one measly Viking was no match for the will of a majestic Night Fury. Toothless bucked, tossing Gobber to the side, and then pounced on him instead of me. So all in all, this was a good situation for me.

"Alright! Let me up, you smelly lizard." When Toothless ignored him and began an impromptu game of tug-of-war with Gobber's bad hand, Gobber looked at me for help.

I marched over and whacked Toothless on the snout. He snorted, but let Gobber pull the now-slimy hook free.

"Great, now keep him still." He hollered into the forge, "Stoick, your boy and Toothless are here."

Hauling the auto-tailfin behind him, Dad said, "Good."

Like most beings, Toothless was a creature of habit. He had his favourite sleeping place, his favourite saddle, and – of course – his favourite people. He also had his favourite tailfin, which meant that he did not appreciate our attempts to replace it. Dad had to grab his head and pin it, much like they had long ago when he had captured Toothless in the ring. Even that didn't stop Toothless from lashing his tail violently, doing his best to keep it away from Gobber's grasp.

"Almost got it . . . Just stay still . . . Ow! Going to feel that one in the morning."

Toothless growled. His claws tore at the ground.

"Stop your complaining." With one last tug, Gobber removed the old tailfin. Toothless shuddered. Maybe he felt naked without it.

His tail started lashing again. This time, he caught Gobber in the chest, sending him to his knees.

"Okay, that's enough." I barked and then sat on Toothless's tail, making him hesitate. As much as Toothless wanted his old tailfin, I knew that it wasn't enough for him to whip me against a wall. Either way, that gave Gobber enough time to recapture the tail.

"Just one more twist . . . ah, there we go!"

The second he was released, Toothless ran. Only for a little bit. Then he stopped to glare at us, huffing.

"Toothless!" I bounded up to him. He seemed undecided about whether he was mad at me, too. "Look, the tailfin! You remember this, don't you?"

At my urging, he curved his tail so that he could examine it. He held the tip aloft, watching as his artificial tailfin opened and closed in time with his natural one. He swayed; his tailfin seemed to reach out and caress the air. It was red, this one, the same shade as his usual one; and I could see that Gobber had added his own personal touch of a picture of a giant dragon about to gobble up a Viking.

"Go on, fly! Fly!" Normally, I would have pushed Toothless or something. That wasn't so practical in this form, so I tackled him instead.

Snap! Two black wings shot open. With one leap, he was airborne. The red tailfin expanded behind him. The edges rippled, and then I saw no more as he veered upwards, soaring into the sky where he belonged.

"Yes, go!" I clambered up to the top of a fence post, standing on my hind legs as I tracked his silhouette against a perfect sky.

He went higher, higher, until he was nothing more than a dot. And then he came down. His wings were folded neatly at his side as he nudged himself into a spin. The wings opened then, and he twirled and twirled in a ribbon of black.

He passed over a house, so close that if he had reached, he could have clawed the roof. He wound his way past a chimney, and then dipped even further so that he could pass over the fence right next to me. The structure quivered from his wake, and I dug in my claws.

His next turn was nearly vertical, up the side of a house, where he startled some poor Viking who had been leaning on her windowsill. She peeked after him, and her mouth opened in what must have been awe. Everyone had seen dragons show off before; I'm pretty sure everyone had even seen Toothless and I showing off. But that didn't matter, because there was a majesty to the Night Fury, a freshness that never quite died. Even if he didn't mean to show off and he was just testing the tailfin, Toothless was a sight to see. I only wished that I could be up there with him.

He came down again, looping backward before settling into a fall. The tailfin stayed open behind him, red flashing like a flag. Unlike last time, this dive was leisurely – at least for a Night Fury. It was slow enough that when he got closer, I could actually see his eyes.

He circled around me before taking a precarious perch on the fence, too. At least he tried. He was way too big though, so he just ended up with his front paws on the fence.

"So, how was it?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He purred. Now would normally have been the time that we cuddled a bit, but since I was lacking hands, I just nuzzled him under the chin instead.

"So, it works."

Dad and Gobber were still here. I had completely forgotten. Actually, quite a few Vikings had gathered to watch Toothless's flight; most of the adults appeared to have been dragged out by their children. They were leaving now, though, since the show was over. A couple of kids approached Toothless, who sniffed them but otherwise, wasn't that interested.

Dad walked over. He ran his fingers over the bone in Toothless's tail as he inspected the tailfin for damages. So far, so good. It had held up under Toothless's rigorous test.

"Seems like you're good to go." With a splash of dust, the tail fell back down. To me, Dad said, "I'll be in the forge."

I purred thanks to him. Dad gave me a weird look, but he didn't say anything.

Thump! Thump! Toothless performed his Let's go flying! dance around me, going over the fence and back again. His upper half bobbed up and down; his paws tapped out a catchy rhythm on the ground.

"You have wings," I told him. "You go."

Toothless snuffled. Smooth scales stroked the underside of my wing as he grabbed it and gently tugged it open. With one claw, he poked at the other one. With a sigh, I let them unravel, faintly aware that my tailfin opened as I did so.

"Toothless, I can't fly."

Thump!

"No, really, I can't. I know I might have wings and an uncomfortably long tail, but this up here," I tapped my forehead, "is raw Viking."

His dancing grew faster and louder. Flying. Now!

Looks like someone wouldn't take no for an answer. When the opportunity arose, I pounced onto Toothless's back, and sat in the same place I would have had he been wearing his saddle.

At his surprised stare, I said, "Well, you wanted to go flying."

It was different, sitting on him like this. It felt like there was a lot less friction. A lot less. Even with Toothless sitting still, I still worried in the back of my mind that I would slip off. Sure, I had awesome claws that could easily keep me in place, but tearing up my best friend's back didn't exactly appeal to me. Speaking of these claws, I wasn't sure what to do with them. Did I just sit on them normally, and hope they wouldn't accidentally scratch Toothless? Or did I try to go the uncomfortable route of curling back toward me, and risk slicing myself open instead? Decisions.

A chord of muscles shifted under me. That was another difference. Contrary to what his adorable and playful behaviour would suggest, Toothless had a very powerful and lithe body. Poke anywhere, and all you would get was hard muscle. It kind of felt like sitting on a rock. A moving, breathing rock. But a rock, nevertheless, and a warm one, at that. Between my own body heat and clothes, Toothless's heat and the sun, I had never been cold during flight, but there was something more intimate about skin-to-skin contact.

Just when I started thinking this might be a bad idea, he took off.

So much for not clawing him. When I felt him slipping under me, I instinctively tried to cling. Thankfully, those scales were thicker than they looked.

We went high. It was like sailing in a storm; his body pitched up and down as each wingbeat echoed through it. Only my front paws, hooked around the spot where his wings and shoulders met, kept me from falling.

When I looked down, something heavy dropped into my stomach. Foreboding or fear, I think. I had never been scared of heights – I couldn't be, not as a dragon rider. But riding a dragon while strapped into a saddle was very different than sitting bareback on one in a body that wasn't yours to begin with.

I flattened myself against him. All the wind was only adding fuel to the fire. Toothless had rounded out into a glide, just enjoying the sights. I would have, too, but we were really high, and I wasn't at all happy with that. No seriously. I wasn't.

I think he had always rocked when he flew. I just had been too big before to notice. Now, with me being as small and as flat as I was, I noticed. It was like a boat in a calm stream; like a cradle. Comforting. I closed my eyes, pretended I was on ground, and let that soothe me.

Toothless chirped. I opened my eyes. I didn't see anything different. We were still circling Berk, and the sky was calm. A Nightmare weaved through the space below us, but he was quickly gone.

Toothless chirped again. Jerked his chin up, pointing at something. But ahead of us, all I saw was empty sky. I thought back to the last time he had chirped . . .

Oh.

He chirped again. Go. Fly.

"No." I shook my head so hard he must have felt me vibrating. "There is no way I'm going out there."

Nothing happened for a few seconds.

Then he flipped over.

I screamed. My wings fluttered uselessly, catching the air at random moments and sending me spinning in one direction or another. It was like being caught in a rapids filled with invisible rocks, just as violent and hard to breathe. Air seemed to be sucked right out of my mouth, as if I were literally moving too fast for my lungs to swallow it.

Black filled my vision. Toothless was calmly falling beside me, his head closest to the ground and slightly cocked to one side, as if he were asking what I was so freaked out about.

"Toothless, help!" That's what I tried to scream, but some wild noise came out of my mouth. Whatever it was, it got his attention. Green eyes widened, and he reached out for me.

The first attempt, my paw slide over his scales. Second, our claws locked for a beat, and then parted. The third, fourth, and fifth attempt pretty much all happened at the same time. Each miss made my pulse race a little faster, and though it couldn't have been more than five seconds, I was sure I was about to become a splat on the ground.

I whined. It was the only sound I could make. My chest had tightened, squeezing out what little air my lungs had scavenged. I couldn't grab his paw, and Toothless didn't seem to understand that. He thrust it at me again, actually touching my neck.

Panicking, not at all thinking, I bit it.

I think . . . I think that's what he actually wanted. Even with fear lacing my bite and making it strong, I didn't draw blood. He pulled me toward him, and wrapped his other paw around my abdomen.

We levelled out. Intellectually, I knew we were slowing; but I didn't feel it. We were still falling way, way too fast. But Toothless was here. He wouldn't let anything happen to -

He was letting go.

I tried to cling to his leg, but Toothless had already yanked his paw out of my mouth, and there was nothing binding me to him. I picked up speed, drawing further away . . .

But he reached out again, and hooked his claws under my wingjoints. The claws ran along the bone, forcing them to open.

"Toothless!"

For a brief moment, his snout was buried in the back of my neck. It's okay, he was saying. I'm here.

One paw fiddled with my tail. The other was around my chest now, keeping me from flipping over. I took deep, steady breaths.

One.

Two.

He let go.

It was actually fear that kept me upright. I was so nervous, that I went rigid; my tail went out straight behind me, and my wings remained fully extended.

Time ticked by.

I finally realized that I was in control.

It wasn't quite flying. Just gliding. But I was no longer hurdling toward the ground. Toothless was right beside me, tailfins open wide like his wings. A glance over my shoulder told me that my body looked the same.

"Hey! Look at me!" I squawked. I faintly heard Toothless purr.

We soared over Berk and toward the docks, and I stretched my wings even further, wanting every inch of me to be a part of this. We weren't that high above the village; anyone standing on a roof could have thrown a rock and hit me. We were close enough that I could see people going about their daily business. One villager was trying to pull her rug away from a hungry pig; a pair – the twins, I think – were stalking Fishlegs from an alleyway. Above Berk, it smelt a lot like smoke, even though I could barely see any. There were a lot of gentler scents as well: wood, boiling meat, roasted fish . . .

As we approached the docks, and dropped below the level of Berk's roofs, I felt disappointed. I wasn't ready to land yet; I could still wrestle a few more seconds of flight. So, I dipped. I rotated my body so that my wings no longer lay parallel to the ground. I knew this was how Toothless turned; next to me, he nodded in approval.

It was like running and suddenly hitting a patch of ice. I had tilted further, eager to turn quickly so I could get back to flying, when I . . . slipped, for lack of a better word. My tail fell through the sky; my wings, used to the air pushing against them, crumbled.

I was falling. Again.

"Watch out -!"

Cold slapped me in the face. The impact vibrated through me like a stricken bell. The world was dark, freezing cold, and gleamed with a few rays of light that cut their way downward before fading into darkness.

When my lungs burned, I realized I was underwater. I kicked for the surface. My wings, hanging down loosely, acted like anchors and dragged me down.

No. No! A sour taste filled my mouth. I wasn't going to drown here. But for every two inches of progress I made, my wings dragged me down another inch.

A dark shadow emerged from underneath me.

My head burst through the waves. I gasped for breath, panting as I clung to Toothless's back. He was paddling steadily toward the docks, wings spread over the water, almost using it as a floatation device. When we reached one of the dock's wooden pillars, he climbed up it, dragging me along.

I shook myself. I moved into the sunlight. There, that was better. Toothless sniffed me. He licked my neck as he, in his own way, checked that I was okay.

"I'm fine," I rasped. "Just a little tired."

We sat in silence, recovering. Above us, a rider left Berk on their Nadder. I knew that soon enough, I would be up there again.

The only question was whether it would be as the rider, or a dragon.

Review Responses:

havic: Heh, maybe he is. I did write this after the whole papa!Toothless in Dreki Kyn, so it might be a carryover :)

Jazz: And how was flying lesson number two? XD Hiccup will be working on it for a while. Flying ain't easy ;)

Thanks! I personally think that giving dragons a verbal language brings them too close to human intelligence, to the point where it gets awkward hearing the Vikings refer to them as pets. Plus, it's just more fun for me this way!

a random person: Not a *high* cliff. Small is fair game :D