Very profoundly not satisfied with this. Taken almost wholesale from the movie, and not well written on the whole. Ah well, it's a start. Spoilers for ending, if you haven't watched it before.

Disclaimer: I'll own it when I learn how to train my dragon to threaten people and get away with it.

The first thing that comes to mind is, Thor's Hammer, but you hurt, and in places you never even knew existed. A short breeze blows against the hair hiding your closed eyes, and you decide not to wake up until the aches all go away.

Then Toothless' hard scales prod you in your stomach, squashing all the air out of your lungs and folding you in half, and before you know it, you are sitting with eyes open in a squint, grabbing at the renewed pains at your midriff.

Didn't he know that you wanted to sleep? Useless reptile.

Your Viking is awake! Finally!

You cannot even begin to count the suns that had passed with him lying half-dead, and you almost half-dead yourself in your worry. It certainly felt like you were half-dead, with half your soul battered and bruised and bloody and in the deep healing sleep-

But that no longer matters, for now he is awake, and you finally feel like you can breathe again.

You once thought that the worst thing possible was to be grounded, and to succumb to death in the throes of the no-flight sickness-of-the-mind; but your Viking's injuries had preyed on your nightmares far more often than your disability to fly.

Your Viking seems to realise something, and starts yowling at you as you bound onto the weird branches in this Viking den. You tell him, stop worrying! After all, he is alive, and all is right with the world.

You watch him from the corner of your eyes, and he throws the furs off his body- then he stops.

Oh, you think, slipping off onto the floor. Almost everything is right.

You stare at the metal contraption where your foot used to be, and shiver ever so slightly. When you curl your toes on your remaining foot, you can almost feel the toes on your left foot twitching too, but that is not possible, seeing as how it is no longer attached to your leg.

Not many Vikings have fake limbs, Gobber being one of the few exceptions. Most do not survive the loss of their arms or legs, and those that do rarely live long after, not getting used to the new limb before rushing into battle or dying in a dragon raid.

(Not like that will be a problem, you think, since your Dad has never let you out of the house, let alone within so much as a furlong of the fighting.)

In the long days when you stay in the forge helping Gobber, the blacksmith would tell you of how he could sometimes still feel his arm or leg, and you can see, though he never says it outright, that the wounds still hurt him on especially frigid days.

A rough head nudges your arm, and you look at your dragon's open face. You think, Toothless has gone through this before, and survived. You can too; have to, or you aren't worthy to be his rider.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. The metal makes a clunk sound as you set it onto the wood. Toothless is watching you closely to see if you need help, and you discreetly run your eyes over him to check that he hasn't lost any body parts too. He hasn't, and you are thankful for that, even with your foot missing; you would gladly give it all over again to ensure that he would not lose more than his tailfin.

Drawing in a deep breath, you grip the bedpost and lift yourself. It is hard; you do not know how long you have lain abed, but it is long enough that your muscles- what few ones you had before, that is- have softened, and you grunt as you lever yourself into a standing position.

The floor is strangely unsteady with your new leg, and you stay still for awhile, then take a step forward. You sink closer to the ground than you expected, and only just manage to catch yourself with your real foot. In your mind, you are already planning changes to this prosthetic: make the base broader, minimize the metal used to make it lighter, and if you are going to fly, you need to make a new saddle for Toothless, that you can control with your new foot-

You buckle, and Toothless catches you on his broad head, his steady strength bolstering your own, always by your side to catch you. You look down at him, and think, how ironic, that now we are both cripples. Only, that is not quite right- somehow, you cannot quite connect Toothless with the word 'cripple', since he will never be helpless in your eyes.

Looping your arm around his neck, you thank him in a murmur, and together, you limp your way across the floor. Whatever it is, you think, you have Toothless and Toothless has you, so in your own unique way, the two of you will never be cripples- merely two halves of a whole. And with that thought, you throw open the door and face the blinding light of day.