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And since I haven't done it yet:

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own How To Train Your Dragon or any characters

Please review!

-Mitti

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The Storm, the White, the Blizzard

Chapter III

All night, Hiccup had been in somewhat consciousness.

Whether "consciousness" fell under the category of half-asleep, dozing with "one eye open", or simply staring up at the creaky wooden ceiling, it had been gripping Hiccup with both hands. And he was exhausted.

The time was close to three o'clock. It was dark outside every time Hiccup got up and checked, in anticipation for sunlight to appear, and over five hours ago the shuddering walls had quieted; Toothless had fallen asleep as well.

Frustrated with his mind, Hiccup groaned and tried to relax and sleep. However, with guilt and nervousness and anticipation building up in him, his stomach was in knots and he occasionally felt that he was to be sick. Over the past three hours Hiccup had given up on falling asleep and had been reviewing the Book of Dragons, just to pass time. He was lucky his father, Stoick, was a heavy sleeper and slept through every noise Hiccup made when moving around the house.

The brown-haired boy had been pacing for the past few minutes; planning everything out in his mind for what felt like the thousandth time, he always came up with a slightly different scenario for the way the story could go. Him being completely successful, him finding nothing, him being punished for disappearing . . .

Okay, so this thinking wasn't exactly helping his insomnia.

Exasperated and on the brink of dizziness from lack of rest, Hiccup muttered to himself about anything that appeared in his mind. So, there wasn't much variety in subjects.

"Maybe there'll be another book," Hiccup muttered almost inaudibly. "And it'll lead me like that ink book did." However, as Hiccup dazedly mulled things over in his head, the chances of that were very very slim. How could he just happen upon another diary-journal-book-whatever that had exactly the same subject as another completely random diary-journal-book-whatever?

This was why thinking wasn't helping.

Trying to think of something else, Hiccup, whose mouth was getting far too tired to continue talking, pushed the UnderIce dragon topic out of his head.

What about the time we defeated the Red Death?

Well, rough subject to be talking about when you're trying to calm down, but at least the story had a happy ending. If it didn't, then he wouldn't be thinking about it at three in the morning and trying to sleep.

We were flying.

It sounded stupid, but at this time Vikings never flew. On dragons or alone (and the latter was and still is impossible). Hiccup, Astrid, Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Ruffnut, and Snotlout were all doing the impossible. Hiccup remembered when Tuffnut had yelled to the shocked Vikings below: "LOOK AT US! WE'RE ON DRAGONS! ALL OF US!" Hiccup had barely heard it, he was trying to figure out on a strategy to take down the Red Death.

And, for some inexplicable reason, as the green-eyed boy began thinking of the strategy he had forged from Fishlegs' help, he fell into a deep sleep that was not to be disturbed until the sun arose.

Strange how some things work in Hiccup's mind.

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"C'mon, bud!"

Despite a very aggravatingly-sleep-deprived night, Hiccup was still ready to urge Toothless to fly faster into the sky. His black-scaled friend complied, and soon the two were speeding as a blur through the outskirts of the island. No one was with them; it was quality time to fly together, with no one else.

Hiccup tried to stop his whirling mind by taking a huge breath that seemed to make his lungs shrink from the force of the air. His eyes began tearing up from the wind, which, despite being warmer, had that early morning chill that seemed bitter no matter what season it was (albeit there were barely even two seasons on Berk; winter and not-so-harsh winter). Squinting against the harsh breeze, Hiccup felt his mind speeding up with questions and no solution.

Oh gods. How long was this paranoia going to last?

Toothless growled in a friendly way to his rider, telling him that there was a hilly incline up ahead. Shifting his prothetic foot in the gears, Hiccup guided Toothless up and was soon having his dragon skim the tips of the pine trees. The brown-haired boy slowly felt himself begin to enjoy himself once more, finally ignoring all his questions. They could be answered later, couldn't they?

Besides, Hiccup still had to plan a new lesson for the Dragon Academy. Still not sure quite what he was going to do yet, a certain Viking had a lot of planning and conversing to do with his dragon. Toothless always wanted to do something different (whether Hiccup agreed or not) every new day, such as collect dragon-nip, go to the hollow-like place where the duo met, or just fly around the outskirts of the island or smack-dab in the middle of the island, where Vikings waved to the riders above.

It was only dawn. There was a full day ahead for the Vikings. Riding, talking and laughing, exploring if there was time, and finishing the day with a nice meal and an evening flight. As the sun crept fully over the horizon, and the pinks, oranges, and turquoise-blues faded into a simple pastel blue that stretched across the sky, blotched out occasionally by clouds.

It was a new morning. In the duo's eyes as they flew up from the steep land and into the brightening sky, the day might as well have been their first together.

Because it felt that perfect.

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After one day of formulating and calculating and avoiding (people that could figure out his plan, that is), Hiccup finally had a plan.

Sort of.

The day's events had helped. Hiccup overheard Gobber on his way back from Dragon Training saying that they're wouldn't be any night fishing that night (was there any at all? Hiccup wondered). That would mean that no one would see Toothless and him fly out, not that anyone could see a black-scaled dragon in the night anyway, but it was a "safety precaution". Feeling giddy inside, Hiccup had spend the rest of the day mentally packing.

Stoick would notice if his son was packing a bag when he got home, so Hiccup carefully placed everything he needed where his sharp green eyes wouldn't miss them during his "escape".

Yes, it was happening tonight.

Hiccup knew he needed food, water, the Book of Dragons, and the ink-covered book. Thanks to his and Astrid's futile search to find what else was hidden in the book, he had previously had second thoughts about taking it, but he decided that in case the book fell open (okay, so that was just wistful thinking, but still) by hitting a rock or another object that jarred the book enough to open, then he might find some extra information.

When Stoick arrived home, he greeted his son with his usual enthusiasm about telling Hiccup what happened during the day. This particular evening it was about how there was a slight debate between a few Vikings and a nuisance dragon.

"But that dragon was sent back to it's rider," Stoick said in his thick accent. "So, son, how was your day?"

Hiccup shrugged. "Well, Astrid and Snotlout got into a fight, but that's no different than every day," he said, lapsing into a quick silence as he bit into his chicken, which happened to be a bit over-roasted.

Stoick, nodding, ate his full chicken as well. Toothless was the only noise, as he was scrambling up and down the roof shingles. A few times he groaned or growled, but at what, Hiccup and Stoick were not sure of.

It seemed like ages in Hiccup's head, even though it was only twenty minutes until Stoick had retired to sleep. Hiccup said goodnight, then, when he heard his father's loud snores, quickly and clumsily made his way to his room.

Anticipation, guilt, nervousness, and excitement gnawed at the teen's stomach. The guilt was for leaving all his friends and father behind without even saying anymore than the casual goodbye that was always said after training. The nervousness was: what if he was caught? How would he explain? And, to explain, he had to tell the truth and tell the whole of Berk that he wanted to find a new dragon. Then all the other Riders of the academy would want to go.

And that is how a disaster happens.

The anticipation and excitement spoke for itself. He wanted to find an UnderIce dragon. Besides, he hadn't gone on a journey like this since he had gone with Meatlug, Fishlegs' "prisoner" during Snoggletog so she wouldn't fly away. Hiccup had soiled that plan by accidentally letting Meatlug free, and soon the unlikely pair was on the island where all baby dragons were born.

Hiccup gathered up his things, jumping at every noise he heard from downstairs or outside. Toothless was purring softly, as if to say "okay, I'm awake, but I won't be for long unless you hurry up." Toothless wasn't exactly the kind of dragon you would put under the category of "always patient".

Soon a small rucksack of items needed was slung over Hiccup's shoulder. It wasn't as if he planned to be gone for months; only a week or two. If his search was unsuccessful, he would come back and face all the angry people and explain what really happened.

Creeping down the stairs in a criminal-quiet-like fashion, Hiccup checked to see if his father was sleeping (Stoick was) and he silenced the fire by taking the water jug from the table, as its sole purpose was to put out fires. Afterwards, in the darkness, Hiccup had to grope around to find the door's big metal handle. When he did, he pushed open the door, cringing when it creaked, and made his way into the starry night. The waxing moon was partially hidden by a wisp of clouds, which were also dotting out stars in some places.

Shutting the door, Hiccup whispered, "Toothless?" but got no response. The dragon was either ignoring him or honestly couldn't hear him. Not caring which it was, the brown-haired boy walked around the side of the house to see Toothless' big green eyes shining at him, dazzled by stars. Jumping in surprise, Hiccup said, "Don't do that!" while Toothless only purred in good nature.

"C'mon," Hiccup whispered, toning down his voice so as to not attract attention. As Toothless stealthily jumped down to the grassy ground, Hiccup looked around, using the moon for light. He saw his dragon's saddle and gear, and even the red tail-wing, which looked almost like blood in the dark. The brown-haired boy shivered.

Toothless stayed still while Hiccup retrieved all the equipment and saddled the dragon up. A certain green-eyed boy's heart was pounding, the gods knew why, as he finished getting Toothless ready. Maybe it was fear?

But of what?

Well, that could be answered in several different options. They might never return, an UnderIce or other dragon might try to kill them, he might be caught, or all the villagers of Berk could (actually, will, Hiccup knew that for certain) be furious at him for leaving without saying anything.

Shaking his head to clear it, Hiccup made sure everything was in his little sack, climbed aboard Toothless's saddle, and said quietly, "Ready, bud?" Toothless, to match his quiet-like tone, grunted lightly in response. Gulping, the teen Viking pushed his prothetic foot into the gear on Toothless's side.

"Let's go."

Toothless recoiled for momentum, then shot up into the night sky. It was rather cold that particular night, despite there being no frost on the ground whatsoever. Hiccup shivered as the wind, once again, was forced down his lungs and stung his eyes. Toothless liked the idea of finding a distant relative (when he was not sleepy, that is) and flew quickly and stealthily.

The duo had a new journey ahead of them. The trip looked bleak (well, duh, 'cause of all the fog they would have to navigate through) and slightly life-changing, in the sense of a new dragon species. But, this was Toothless and Hiccup. The famous team that changed Berk's lifestyle forever. Don't fight dragons, help them.

As the black-scaled dragon flew off with a boy on his back, they both were unaware of a two-year-old boy staring up at them, sucking one thumb and holding a stuffed lamb with another. His brown eyes widened when he saw the stars dot out, due to the dragon flying. The boy didn't know it was a dragon, though.

A scared-sounding woman called from inside a house. "Tim? Tim! Where are you?!" the boy, hearing his mother call, toddled back inside and forgot all about the bleak-star scenario.

And he wouldn't remember, even when the next morning came and there was a frantic search for a skinny teenage boy.

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Sorry it took so long to update. Writer's Block (or whatever it's called) is NOT FUN. Argh.

Thanks for sticking with the story, everyone who's reading!

-Mitti