Post-movie, unspecified time.
Font goes absolutely crazy whenever I type a special character in.
Disclaimer: Thank you for summing that up.
The flame-red of a Terror's fire, the ruby droplets of a Nightmare's scales, but worse, much, much worse than all of that. There is too much of it, the glare of a setting Sól splashed across the sky, the waters of Berk, and how could a small scrawny human hold so much liquid anyway-?
Slowly, it dawns that the female is pushing, pulling, tugging, choking out words. "Please, Toothless, we need to tend to him, you need to let our healers do their work, please, Toothless, just move, let go-"
No. No, never let go, never relinquish the hold on him that is all that keeps him here, in Midgard, with you-
"...Toothless?"
The breathless murmur is enough to bring your head snapping down, gaze fixing unerringly on your Hiccup's brown eyes that look so trustingly up at you. Deep within, you feel a sense of relief, that even when he looks towards the female with that look in his eyes, even when his flight begins to accept him for what he is instead of what they want him to be, the first thing he calls for in his wounded state is you, you, you- and you really shouldn't, it is definitely not the right time for this, but even with his life rushing out onto the craggy rocks beneath the both of you, you can feel it warming you inside like no fire can.
The female talks to him through the enveloping darkness of your wings, yelling something that you do not care to listen to. Your Hiccup does, though, even as he pulls himself to snuggle closer to you, metal leg clanking on the ground.
"'S cold, Toothless." You feel him shivering against your side, even though your embrace should have trapped the air between your body and your wings, and kept him much warmer than the glacial Berkian temperatures. "Astrid wants you to give me to the healers-"
He pauses at your distinct growl of disapproval, and you take the chance to curl up around him even more. Your Viking hisses in pain, and you whine in apology.
"Ah- I'm fine, bud-" He breaks off and gives a little laugh. "Well. I guess I'm not. I really messed up this time, huh?"
You nuzzle him gently, crooning. Even after all this time, he still takes any failure as his fault, even when it clearly is not, and again you feel that smouldering rage against his flight, who had such power over him even when they had shunned him for most of his life. And these are the beings the female wants you to give his Hiccup to?
"It'll be alright, bud." Hiccup speaks softly to you, somehow finding the strength to stroke your jaw. "You can let the healers take a look at me. I promise you, things will be okay. But you have to let the healers help me, okay, Toothless?"