A/n: Hiiii I'm alive I promise ._. So get ready for exposition to the max and super mega indulgence. Like this is my guilty-pleasure fic it really is I'm not even trying to keep it tempered anymore we're just gonna run with the gushiness :B

This is a really different account of the events from the original I guess... welp.

Hopefully it'll still help clear up a couple things and shit...

Thanks for sticking it out folks~

The little human wouldn't raise his eyes to the demigod's searching stare.

Not another word passed from him, no matter how many times his name fell from the Night Fury's lips. Hiccup was gone long before the sun had fallen, leaving his companion alone without answers in the valley.

It wasn't so long ago, now, when humans once repulsed the half-beast. Their ways were wrought with blood and greed. Though they bore the image of their gods, their hearts matched the likeness of a wasp – tiny, thorned at the base, and humming the same monotonous war songs.

So the Night Fury once believed.

What he hadn't known, the freckled fledgling showed him. Man was a versatile beast. From the same race that bred thickset, axe-wielding men and women came a boy, small and clever. Like dragons, humans divided into different kinds – some dragons bore two heads and others one, some men thirsted for war and others for knowledge.

All Windwalker had ever seen of man was their likeness to the foulest of their creators. He had not known some carried the minds and hearts of the wisest, fairest and boldest of Asgard.

And though Asgardian prowess filled the Night Fury's veins, fused with the instinctive might of his dragon half, it was a power only measured in battle. The great gods, for all their mortal worship, took little interest in Midgard's plights. Asgardians were almighty warriors – not shepherds. They only came and went as they saw fit, seldom appearing before mortal eyes, and took whatever they liked –the birth story of all demigods began this way.

The gods could tear continents apart, and lift the seas above the mountains, but their power could not compare to that of one little human youth. What he possessed was another sort of power, one even the gods knew not – kindness.

Strength of limb and nerve holds nothing to comprehensive empathy, tempered with insight and kindled with care. It is the crux upon which War's final demise lies.

It was what made Hiccup far more divine than even a draconic demigod.

Hence, Windwalker had fallen for the youth, in slow but sure steps. It was a dance he'd never taken part in before, but the music began when the boy first bared that sweet, crooked little smile at the Night Fury. At first he mistook the tune for a more familiar one – that of bodily want alone. But this, this was something he'd never led any partner in before.

Until now, he'd believed this partner could hear the same song. But Hiccup, it seemed, was deaf to it.

The Night Fury in the valley curled inward like a feline, wings shrouding his face from the closing sunlight, tucking a broken heart away beneath scaly limbs.

And as darkness encircled the Viking village, Hiccup crept under his own shroud of an old woolen blanket atop his bed. He disappeared beneath it, wondering who, or what, he really was.

...

Come dawn, Hiccup woke to many voices, screaming with guttural glee. Stumbling in the lingering shadow of last night's misery, the boy wandered to his door and let in the sun. As the shouts in the village streets began to cohere from a blur of noise to a series of words, Hiccup was struck with sudden wakefulness.

"The ships! The ships are here!"

"They've come back!"

"They've come home!"

For a second, Hiccup's eyes blew wide, and his lips lifted. He made to spring towards the bustle of villagers, but he halted, a hand leaning on the doorway. The brightened face fell to gloom again.

His father was back.

Even from where he was, Hiccup could see the Viking warriors striding into the streets. At their head, Stoick marched, tallest and proudest of all his army. Yet the scowl strewn under his thick red moustache and the testy flash of sharp eyes spoke of a heavy wound to that pride. He had returned empty-handed.

He had returned from one disappointment... how would he fare meeting with another?

The boy started to back away into the house, but his retreat was too late. His father caught the green-clad movement at his door from where he walked. Hiccup awaited the tight, grimace-like smile, or the pretense of not seeing him. But strangely, when his father saw Hiccup, the steely discontent peeled away in the wake of a full, pleased grin.

In seconds, he was right at their doorstep, clapping a gigantic hand against Hiccup's shoulder.

He looked happier to see his son than Hiccup could remember Stoick ever showing. It brought a little light to yesternight's muddled gloom, and the initial, short-lived burst of joy at seeing his father again returned to his freckled features.

"Well, son, Gobber tells me you're shaping into a real dragon-slayer!"

Again, the excited little smile wavered and fell.

...

Along the winding path through the forest, heavy limbs carried Hiccup slowly back to the valley. Tomorrow, Gobber's voice echoed in his mind, you will have your first kill.

The warriors were back, tired, hungry, and thirsting for blood. Taming tricks weren't going to quench anyone this time... the village expected the finest young dragon fighter to spill their enemy's guts before a cheering crowd. It was the rite of passage from a boy to a warrior, Hiccup's one dream before the world he knew fell apart.

In its place, this untraveled world that at first inspired now frightened him, and threatened to collide with the old world at any moment.

He could not hold them apart for long...

A little chirp in his ear jolted Hiccup from his vexed thoughts. To his great surprise, he found a Terrible Terror, littlest of the dragon breeds, perching quietly on his shoulder. It tilted a yellowish head at the boy, dipping its snout closer to sniff his face. No aggressive show of spreading its sinewy wings, or baring its jagged teeth with a snarl, was aimed at the human, as every dragon had ever done before Hiccup calmed it.

Hiccup slowly reached a hand to the little dragon's horned head, letting it sniff at him until it pressed a scaly cheek against his palm. The island's forests were not so frequented by men as even the surrounding seas... did this tiny creature, with its curious bead-like eyes, not yet know the danger of men? Was this how dragons would greet a man if he did not strike first? Was this the true nature of the fearsome beasts – trusting and gentle – before man taught it to despise all skin-clad creatures?

More odd little gurgles sounded, and when Hiccup turned, an entire family of Terrors pattered near him, disregarding the human as though he, like one of the great oaks around them, had merely sprung out of the forest grounds. Two of the smallest ones wrestled playfully, watched by the wary eye of a scaly mother – no different from the scuffling boys and girls back in the village. One of the wrestlers reared back and let out a sharp flame, scaring the other to a trembling cacophony of squeaks. The cocky dragon child then stepped over to one of the bigger Terrors, preparing to throw another spark of fire. But just as his jaw parted, the unimpressed adult spat his flame first, catching in the little one's mouth. There, it seemed to ignite within, smoke trickling from between its slackened jaws as the little Terror curled into an agonized ball. In only a moment, it rose again, shaking off the mishap with childish ease.

"Not so fireproof on the inside, are you?" the boy chuckled.

...

Astrid ran the whetting stone over the gleaming edge of her axe. Peering over her weapon's glint, the warrior maiden's blue eyes narrowed at the little prey in her sights.

Hiccup's secrets would finally be known – the maiden's axe would see to that.

Leaping down from her perch upon one of the clearing's boulders, Astrid stared down the startled youth in her path. Before Hiccup could breathe a shaky word, she lashed out a hand and caught hold of the boy's neck.

"Talk," she demanded curtly, raising her weapon above his saucer-wide eyes.

"W-well that – might be eas-easier if – I could breathe!" spluttered her victim.

A fierce scowl overtook the maiden's pretty features. Heaving her wiry frame, Astrid threw the boy against the ground, shoving her axe beneath his chin. "Nobody fights as you do," she hissed. "Did you win a witch's favor? Or maybe the spell is yours..."

Hiccup raised quaking hands, eyes never leaving the weapon flushed coolly against his skin. "No – what? I, I don't know what you mean... Astrid, please-"

"Hiccup!" the girl growled, deep and wild like the very beasts she despised. "You may have the others fooled. But I have seen you, Hiccup. You're no dragon-slayer. Something else is at work, and you will tell me," she pushed the blade until skin reddened, drawing a strangled yelp from the boy, "what it is."

Before the warrior could have her answer, a low, hideous snarl from behind her sent an ice-like chill through her veins. The trained dragon-fighter abandoned her victim to swivel around. Cool blue eyes grew wide.

An adversary like no other bared its serrated teeth at the maiden. She had barely the time to lift her weapon before the creature barreled into her, bringing her down to the grassy earth like a hay-stuffed doll. Gasping to recapture the air knocked from her lungs, the maiden reached desperately for her relinquished weapon. With her other hand, she tried to push away from the beast, but it closed in over her. Balling shaky fists, Astrid jabbed with a grinding bellow at one of the huge, demonic eyes above her. While the creature hissed, she drew out from under it, hurrying to her axe.

But as she lifted it to meet the recovered hellbeast, she ready to behead a scaly monster, he ready to rip the yellow-hair from her skull, Hiccup came suddenly between them.

"No, no, no, no!" was his shouted mantra, standing in the girl's path and facing the black demon.

And miraculously, when the murderous yellow eyes fell to the boy, the demon halted.

"It's okay," Hiccup soothed with breathless insistence, stepping closer to the almost man-like creature. "She's a friend."

"What are you doing?" the girl crowed, axe lowering by a hair's width.

The boy turned. In a few ranted words, he tried to sum up weeks of observation, tried to make her understand what he knew. But she only backed away, glaring like the boy spoke for the devil. "Astrid, he didn't understand he was just – he's not dangerous, I swear it!" he stepped after the warrior, but she was turned round and sprinting now, back to the village to gather the others.

"Astrid, wait!"

As the maiden turned round a tree, she leapt back from the dark figure that appeared in her path with a scream. "Astrid!" the boy's voice called again from a ways behind. The demon's terrible yellow eyes narrowed.

"Astrid?" it repeated thickly.

The girl stared, morbid fascination twisting her open lips. "Y-you speak?" she choked.

A black brow lifted slightly. "You... listen?" it returned stonily.

"Astrid you can't tell the others!" Hiccup puffed, catching up at last. "You don't understand, he's just like us – they all are – dragons, they're, they're just like us!"

"Like us?" the shield-maiden balked, turning to the boy. "Look at him!"

"Look at you!" Hiccup blurted.

The girl paused. For the first time, she watched anger quirk over the boy's soft features. But as quickly as it settled, it abated, like a ripple fading from a watery surface.

"Just – Astrid, listen to me, please, it—"

A familiar chirp interrupted the boy, catching the fair-haired Viking's attention. "Oh no..." Hiccup muttered.

There was a scampering of clawed feet from all around. The very little Terrors from earlier approached the harmless human with happy gaits. One of them even brushed Hiccup's leg appreciatively, arching its back against him in cat-like fashion.

Astrid hefted her axe.

"No!" Hiccup urged quietly, reaching for her weapon. She wrestled it out of his grasp, but a darker grip took hold of the long wood handle, squeezing until it snapped in two. "Astrid, just watch," the boy pleaded. "Trust me."

With little choice, the girl regarded the tiny devils spitefully.

"They'll scratch our eyes out," she warned, knowing of what she spoke from past battles.

"When he attacked you," Hiccup replied, gesturing to the draconic man, "you would have taken his eyes out if you could."

The girl scoffed. "He's a dragon. You finish them or they finish you."

Sighing, Hiccup knelt slowly beside the creatures at his feet. "There's more to it than that..." he mumbled, holding out his hand tentatively to the tiny beasts.

The littlest Terror clambered with clumsy enthusiasm over the backs of those in his way, nostrils flaring and head tipping this way and that as it drew near the human's upturned hand. "Hiccup!" Astrid's hushed voice tried to caution him, before he lost a finger. But he stayed still while the creature poked its snout at his knuckles. Very gently, the boy ran his touch up and down the smooth green neck, drawing delighted gurgles from the Terror. It leapt right up onto his forearm, climbing his limb with excited steps. Another pressed against his open palm beseechingly, still another vying for attention by hopping on his boot.

Not a one of the creatures tried to hurt him.

Astrid's glare turned unsure, the ill-tempered lines of her brow skewing into perplexed contours. "...How are you doing that?" she murmured. Even with this display, only some kind of witchcraft could suit her simple philosophy as explanation.

Hiccup's reply struck through an age-old mentality to draw a gaping hole from it – "I'm not trying to hurt them."

The maiden was not dimwitted, nor was she one to deny what her own eyes witnessed. Yet, ancient constructs do not fall easily, however far and wide its cracks. Astrid kept quiet, watching and wondering very, very gradually, what this boy's discovery could mean...

...

Under a darkening sky's shadowy protection, Toothless and Hiccup brought Astrid back to the village – by wing. She shrieked and cursed in the beginning, thrashing in the demigod's hold (he did not hide a smug grin at her discomfort). But when she opened her eyes to what was around her, the fear and rage yielded in the face of the sky's untold beauty.

When the maiden was finally returned to the ground, along the secluded outskirts of the village, she turned to the boy descending from his draconic companion's back.

She was beginning to understand, now. That much was clear in the softening rims of her eyes, and the traces of a smile along her ever-solemn lips.

"Hiccup," she said, lacking any more words to express tonight's revelations than his gently uttered name. But then her brow stiffened. "What will you do? Tomorrow..."

Tomorrow was the dragon match between Hiccup and one of the captives... the boy frowned, unconsciously squeezing his upper arm beneath his palm. "I don't know..."

When she was gone, Toothless and Hiccup took flight again into now deep, dark night. Before their valley could be reached, the winds carried an odd trill to their ears. It echoed faintly on the ocean mist, like a distant rumble of Thor's thunder.

The unsuspecting boy could barely follow what happened next.

All at once, Toothless fought to change their course, pressing out of sync with his rider's whims. His massive body shook them both and threatened to plummet them into the sea below, leaving Hiccup struggling to accommodate the new directions.

"What are you doing!" he called in a panic, straining to revive the connection that had so suddenly snapped between them. But as he reached for his friend's flattened ears, and tried to look on his dark face, the being only snarled and shook his touch away. "Toothless! Toothless..." But his friend wouldn't heed him.

Vast silhouettes peeked through the thick fog – dragons, of all shapes and sizes, all flying in one direction. Hiccup ducked close against his companion, whispering his name and shaking urgently against the harness. What was happening? Where were they all headed?

Soon, as the mists thinned, the boy's anxiously squinting eyes could make out the wide mouth to a mountainside cave, where all the dragons dove. In the mistless dark, where brief sparks from between jagged jaws were the only light, Hiccup noticed that all the dragons carried with them village animals, slaughtered an dripping in their claws. Each flew its kill over a huge, glowing pit, and dropped the meat into its depths.

One slow, panting Gronkle offered only a little fish as its kill. As it hovered over the hole, something stirred from within.

Hiccup gasped.

Jaws the size of an entire house erupted from the pit, snatching up the Gronkle easily as a fly. Teeth no smaller than Hiccup himself emerged from the dark, six colossal eyes peering out of the enormous head, and the cave went wild with shrill panic from the surrounding dragons.

The boy shook his friend's shoulders. "T-Toothless," he hissed, "we have to go..."

But his friend was still, leaning against the cavern walls and staring at the nearing monster.

"Toothless!"

Hiccup finally leapt off of the scaly man, running in front of him. "Toothless!" The half-beast was caught, as though a trance held him in place and stole the brightness to his eyes. Warm palms reached around his face, drawing his transfixed stare downward.

Fern green eyes and spotted skin filled his vision.

"Windwalker..."

Then he awoke.

The monster's spell left Toothless when his name whispered out from the little one's trembling lips. Blinking out of his daze, the demigod looked up – the monster looked back, and parted its jaws.

A small shout was all Hiccup could let out when he was slammed to the cave's curved wall, sheltered with the Night Fury's body when the flames came for them. He could only press back into his friend's sure grip, wincing at the heat nearing his sides.

At the first lull in the fiery breath, Toothless urged Hiccup onto his back, and the two barely escaped the second infuriated blast.

...

Hiccup didn't understand.

"It's a dragon?" he asked again, brows together.

Again, the Night Fury hissed, shaking his scaly head. "She is death."

"But," Hiccup started, wandering nearer to his friend. They were back in the valley, talking under the stars. "What is it she wants?"

"To eat."

The demigod still shook with fury. He despised the power she lorded over the dragons, stripping them of free will with her song. Even he could not break free of it on his own, should he draw too near. What she almost made him do tonight, almost let him hurt... if he could snap that gigantic neck, he would.

"This is why the dragons raid the village," the boy realized. "But – but can't she find another food source? Maybe if, if we could get her to understand –"

"She doesn't care," the Night Fury cut in. "She eats. She doesn't listen."

"But –"

"Hiccup," Toothless hushed him. "Our kind are... not one."

For the first time, the boy began to see. A final dimension unfolded for Hiccup - dragons were like humans.

Humans had tyrants. Humans had blind treachery.

Dragons had the Red Death.

A/n: So we went from personal drama and gaydentity issues to crap ok let the power of cute little animals sway you, to sHIT that's a freakin' huge-ass dragon wat!?

Omg I think there's only... four chapters left? Maybe five there might actually be an extra, M-rated chapter mwahahaha :B We're getting there!

...Wait shit I still haven't addressed the loin cloth thing have I?! Oops... um, let's just say Hiccup's used to it and it's real uh sturdy and protects everything well, so like... I dunno, it doesn't have much of an impact at this point? Yeah uh heheh... idek.

Anyway, thanks for your support and reviews and just everything~