A/N: This one-chapter-turned-into-three-chapters nightmare is officially over. It only took...*calculating*...a lot of months. I can't wait to write some normally-formatted chapters now. You guys have been absolutely amazing, though! Seriously, give yourself a pat on the back for sticking with me through this mess.

CHSHiccstrid - I love how enthusiastic you are about Camicazi! I've never read the books so I kind of have to write her character based on little snippets of information I've seen, along with my own little personal touches.

Min's Awesomeness - I'm glad you like the story! And we'll know about Berk soon enough...

Alia - LOL, I didn't even consider Astrid when I wrote that part!

galahsrock - I'd say that's a pretty solid guess. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

cherryblxssom - This chapter might answer that...in a very vague way :))

AdamantJackal - I can assure you, Hiccup and Toothless will cross paths with every character I can think of, in due time.

P.S. — In my haste to get this chapter published, I did absolutely no proofreading. So...it is what it is.

Disclaimer: I've run out of clever ways to say I don't own HTTYD.


MONTH 10

HICCUP'S POV

I maneuvered through the dark, narrow passageway that led to the main cavern, crawling along on my hands and feet to avoid tripping. This portion of the tunnels was practically an obstacle course. The path involved climbing over large stone slabs and under sharp stalactites, and there was absolutely no light to rely on. I made my way both by memory—I'd been up and down these tunnels more times than I could count—and by touch. I kept near the wall and always felt for gaps before I went ahead. It would be easier to ride on Toothless' back, but he couldn't fit through this specific passage. This was the shortest route to the cavern, and I was in a hurry.

Toothless and I had just returned from a days-long journey to collect Arctic Willow, a medicinal flowering plant found only in the coldest regions in the north. It had been a rough trip for both of us. I'd had to endure the extreme temperatures, while Toothless had battled fierce winds and a never-ending snowstorm. There were moments I'd been tempted to give up and return home, but my mother needed us to succeed. Last week she'd come down with a rare sickness that the vikings call Traveler's Bane. It could be fatal if not treated quickly, hence my rush to get back to her. Last time I'd seen her, she was shivering yet hot to the touch and was barely coherent. It had been difficult seeing my strong mother brought down by something as simple as an illness, but I had faith she would fight through it until Toothless and I returned with the cure.

When the tunnel finally opened up into the main room, I came to a full stop. It was pitch black, and I strained my ears for signs of movement. If my mom was so sick she didn't even have the energy to keep a fire going, then it was good I was here.

"Mom?" I called out uncertainly, hoping she hadn't moved to another location. A sudden cough resounded off the walls, followed by some rustling of furs.

"Hiccup?" She replied questioningly, her voice weak and barely loud enough to hear. I quickly followed the source of the sound and crawled over to where she was laying, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. I couldn't make out any details, but I could at least see the general outline of her features. When I placed my palm against her cheek, it was ice cold, and she shuddered. "You're back," she sighed, sagging with relief.

I let out a sound similar to a dragon's croon, digging around in my bag and pulling out the Arctic Willow. I wasted no time, rushing to prepare the medicine. Since I knew this cavern like the back of my hand, I was able to acquire a cup off the table even without any light to see properly. I used the flat bottom of the cup to crush up the flower, then swept all of it into the wooden container with my hand. After filling it with water from the natural stream that flowed from the icy ceiling, I crawled back over to my mom.

"Drink," I ordered softly, lifting her head with my free hand while bringing the cup to her lips. She winced in discomfort, but immediately swallowed every bit of the medicine. When I was sure it was empty, I set the cup to the side and lowered her head back to her pillow of furs. "You're going to be okay," I insisted, my voice cracking a bit at the end. Now that my mission was technically over, all the tension I'd held the past few days was draining rapidly, letting the exhaustion take over.

My mom patted my hand, coughing again to clear her throat. "I'm going to be okay," she repeated.

I shook my head, fighting the sudden urge to cry. I'd been pushing the situation to the back of my mind so I could focus on my task, but now all those emotions I'd buried were rushing to the surface. I could've been too late. I was almost too late.

"Mom," I whispered brokenly, gripping her hand tightly.

"Hey, hey, none of that," she declared, though the firmness she'd been aiming for was a bit lost due to her weakened state. "Stuff like this happens, alright? People get sick. But you helped me, and everything's going to be fine," she pressed, taking in a shaky breath at the end of her short speech.

"You've never been sick like this before," I argued quietly, sitting back and pulling my knees up to my chest, though I never let go of her hand. She was still too cold, but I'd have to wait for Toothless to return so he could warm her with his natural body heat. She was too far away from the fire pit for it to be of any use, and I still didn't feel comfortable moving her.

"No, I haven't," she agreed. For a few minutes we sat in silence, content to just be in each other's presence. Half of my attention was monitoring her raspy breathing, while the rest was listening for Toothless' arrival. He would be here soon enough.

"You know," my mom spoke up, breaking my concentration. I glanced over at her, recognizing her reminiscent expression even in the darkness. "After you were born, those first few weeks were absolute torture. You were so frail, so fragile…I feared you wouldn't make it. I thought some sickness would eventually take you from me," she said, her eyebrows pulling together at the memory.

I gulped. "How…how did you get through it? Dealing with the constant worry?" I wondered.

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Your father…" She answered, voice filled with awe. "He was my rock. He never doubted you would make it, not for a second," she explained.

I blinked in surprise. "Really?"

She nodded in affirmation. "He saw your strength, even back then," she noted.

I considered that for a moment. "Whatever strength I have, I got from you," I insisted. My mom inspired me everyday. Her courage, her determination, her kindness—I could only hope to follow in her footsteps.

She let go of my hand so she could cup my cheek. I leaned into her touch, hating the thought of never feeling it again. I might enjoy my independence, but that's because I knew my mom would always be there if I needed her.

It wasn't until my mom looked over my shoulder that I realized Toothless had entered the room. His footsteps were silent as he approached, and his pupils were wide to accommodate for the lack of lighting. Without needing to be told, he immediately lay down directly beside my mom, resting his head across her body so she could soak up the heat he was giving off.

"Thanks, Toothless," she murmured, her eyes sliding closed as her shivers receded.

"Rest, Mom." I took her hand from my cheek and placed it over her stomach, letting her relax completely. It didn't take long for her to heed my advice, and I was grateful when her breathing evened out in sleep.

Toothless and I shared a look then, and it was clear we were thinking along the same lines. That had been a close call, one I hoped to never repeat. In all my years fighting against vikings, I'd forgotten that danger can't always be fought off with a sword or dragonfire.

At least, for today, I could rejoice in the fact that my family was here, alive and breathing.


MONTH 11

3RD POV

A heavy mist hung over the deck of the ship, making it nearly impossible for Ivan to see even five feet ahead. He stared down at the wooden planks directly in front of him as he patrolled along the ship's railing, suppressing a sigh of boredom. He'd been pacing around all night and there was absolutely nothing to report. Even if some threat appeared on the sea nearby, he wouldn't be able to spot them. The only sense he could rely on was his hearing, but there were no sounds except for the creaking of the wood as the ship rocked slightly on the waves. The dragons were quiet for once. Probably sleeping. All that wailing and screeching must've worn 'em out, Ivan thought bitterly.

This job was a pain in the ass—long hours, crappy living conditions, little pay, and definitely no gratitude. Ivan figured the tribes should be showering him and other trappers with coins for dealing with the fire-breathing beasts. Instead, all they got was just enough payment to survive and information for the next job. Downtime was non-existent. Everyone in the trapping business was an asshole, so making friends wasn't an option. There were really no benefits.

Ivan huffed, trying to push away his depressing thoughts. He needed something else to focus on before he threw himself overboard. Unfortunately, everyone else was below deck snoozing to their heart's content. It was a small crew—only about fifteen men—which meant only one man on patrol duty. Pretty soon he'd start talking to himself just to pass the time.

On his hundredth lap around the deck, something finally caught Ivan's attention. The cage closest to him wasn't latched. In fact, the latch itself was lying on the deck, halfway melted. As he stepped closer to the row of cages, he realized all of them had a similar issue. The latches were melted, missing, or simply broken.

"What the hell?" Ivan muttered, instinctively tightening his grip on his axe. He hurriedly lifted the tarp on one of the cages, cursing in shock and anger when there was no dragon to be seen inside. After a quick check, he found that every single dragon had somehow escaped. "Not possible," he spat, stomping over to the outer railing and staring out over the water. There was no one out there; he would've heard another ship. So how in Thor's name did the dragons just disappear?

A quiet thud suddenly met his ears, and he whipped around to his left, axe at the ready. He wasn't at all prepared for the sight in front of him. A dark figure was balanced on all fours on top of the railing, and it wasn't until some of the fog cleared a few seconds later that Ivan realized the figure was a human.

Are those…dragon scales? The person was covered head to toe in black, scaly armor. The mask they were wearing covered most of their face, but Ivan could still see intense eyes staring back at him. It felt like he was being sized up. The stranger's head tilted slightly, and they crawled a bit closer. Ivan didn't understand how the person was able to keep such a steady perch on the slim wooden railing; there wasn't even a slight quiver in their position.

"W-Who are you?" Ivan stammered, hating how his heart rate increased with fear. He was easily three times the size of this person, yet he felt extremely intimidated. The foggy atmosphere certainly didn't help matters.

In response to Ivan's question, the stranger slowly raised a finger to where their lips would be in a 'hush' motion, then with the same hand pointed over the trapper's shoulder. Ivan gulped, feeling dread settle in the pit of his stomach as he reluctantly turned around.

Almost immediately, his eyes widened and he stumbled back a step. A large, pitch black dragon with slitted green eyes was maneuvering over the side of the ship onto the deck, its body crouched and low to the floor. It looked like a cat, except…much, much bigger…and deadlier. It opened its mouth just enough to showcase two rows of sharp teeth, a quiet hiss rumbling forth as it drew closer.

Ivan was frozen in place, too shocked to remember he even had a weapon, not that it would do him much good anyway. He'd seen his fair share of dragons in his line of work, but nothing like this.

"Who do you work for?" A soft yet firm voice asked from behind him. Ivan was torn between keeping his attention on the very obvious threat in front of him and focusing back on the stranger, who apparently was just a kid! Ivan could tell easily enough that it was a boy now. Other than his lanky size, the pitch of his voice was that of a teenager. That realization made Ivan fume with anger, and he spun back to face the boy, dragon be damned.

"You've got a lot of nerve, kid!" He scoffed.

The boy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not a kid," he stated simply, his voice still barely above a whisper. "And please be quiet. I don't really feel like dealing with the rest of your crew," he added, as if the thought of fighting fourteen grown men was a bit of an annoyance but not actually dangerous. His confidence and calm demeanor gave Ivan pause. This whole situation was too odd.

"You release those dragons?" Ivan questioned, gesturing towards the empty cages. The teen nodded curtly, resembling more of a statue than a human at this point. "You're going to regret it." He tsked, slapping the axe handle against his palm. The dragon behind him growled, sending a shiver down Ivan's spine. He spared a wary glance over his shoulder, wondering why the beast hadn't burnt him to a crisp yet. Was the boy controlling it somehow? It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen something like it…

"Are you going to make me regret it?" The kid wondered. There was no arrogance in the question, only curiosity. Ivan smirked, recognizing the second meaning—tell me who you work for. He was impressed. This boy clearly knew what he was doing.

"I could." Ivan shrugged noncommittally, then raised his axe in a more menacing gesture. "I could chop you up into little bits and throw them all into the sea," he threatened.

"But you won't," the boy retorted. "Not unless you want to be my dragon's next meal," he pointed out. Ivan grimaced. "So why don't you save both of us some time and skip to the part where you tell me the name of the man you work for," he pressed. The dragon snapped his teeth merely inches from Ivan's face. These two were quite the persuasive pair, he had to admit.

Ivan took a few breaths in an attempt to calm his jittery nerves. "If you're planning on killing me, just do it already. 'Cause I ain't telling you nothing," he sneered. He'd rather his death be swift than to have to suffer his boss' wrath. He'd seen the kind of horrendous things that man was capable of—he wouldn't be a victim to it.

The boy regarded him with a scrutinizing gaze. For a few seconds, Ivan was sure the kid would take him up on his offer. He didn't, though. Without another word spoken, the dragon took a flying leap into the air, snatching up the kid as he flew past. Ivan flinched at the unexpected flurry of movement, shielding his face as the powerful wingbeats thrust cold wind directly into his eyes. The two mysterious figures quickly disappeared into the thick veil of mist, leaving Ivan dumbfounded and slightly terrified on the deck.

He dropped his axe, running both hands over his face as all the adrenaline seeped away. I seriously hate this job, he thought, vowing to never take on patrol duty solo ever again.


MONTH 12

HICCUP'S POV

"Absolutely not."

"I wasn't asking permission."

"I don't care. You're not going!"

"You can't stop me."

"The hell I can't!" My mom grabbed my arm, wrenching me around to face her. I squared my shoulders, prepared to handle whatever she threw at me. "I didn't keep you from Berk just for you to go back now and get yourself killed!" She shouted, her cheeks reddening with each passing moment. It was probably the angriest I'd ever seen her.

"I'm not going to Berk," I argued.

Her glare was withering. "The Bog-Burglar Islands, Berk, they're all the same, Hiccup! Camicazi told you as much!"

I shrugged out of her grasp, storming over to the table to continue packing any essentials into my satchel. "Which is exactly why I'm going!" I pointed out with frustration. "The dragon situation is only getting worse in the Archipelago. I need to find out why, and I need to put a stop to it," I declared firmly.

"You're thirteen years old, Hiccup! You can't stop an entire war by yourself!" She snapped.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself a calming breath before opening them again. "Maybe not," I agreed quietly. "But I can at least find out why so many dragons are attacking viking villages. There has to be a reasonable explanation," I told her, shaking my head. Ever since my encounter with Camicazi, the dragon issue had been plaguing my mind. Sitting by while innocents died just wasn't in my nature. I had to do something, and I couldn't waste any more time.

"Hiccup, please see my side here," my mom implored, walking over and placing a gentle hand against my cheek. I turned my head, meeting her pleading gaze. "The only thing you will find down there is violence and death." Her voice shook slightly, and I could see long-distant memories of fire and blood in her open gaze. It was enough to make me stumble for words.

"I can't—" my fist pounded lightly once against the table—"stay here in this nest, safe and sound, while everyone else suffers." I pulled away, starting to pace around the firelit cavern. Toothless was out fishing, fueling up for the long flight ahead. He was already one hundred percent with me. It didn't really take much convincing. His words still echoed in my head, giving me the strength to follow through with my decision. I'll go anywhere with you, Hiccup. I believe in you.

"Hiccup…" My mom's sigh cut into my thoughts.

"The people you knew—Stoick, Gobber, Gothi, Mrs. Ack, Sven, all the others," I listed. "Do you still care about them?" I asked.

Her shoulders slumped. "Of course, but—"

"They're enough, Mom," I interrupted. "They're enough reason to do this, no matter the consequences. Those people who were your family, long before I came along. And the dragons, my family and yours. You've been fighting for them almost my entire life. Let me do the same." I clasped my hands together, walking closer to her. She stared at me with wide eyes, noting the determined edge to my voice. I could practically see her walls crumbling.

"I...okay, Hiccup," she finally spoke after a tense minute of silence. "Okay. If this is what you need to do…" Her jaw clenched. "But I don't like it. At all," she stated.

"I know." I smiled, happy that the yelling match was over.

"I could come with you…" She started hesitantly, but I waved her off.

"And abandon the nest? They need you," I objected.

"They need both of us," she grumbled, and suddenly it felt like I was the adult and she was the teenager.

"Finding out who's employing all these trappers is just as important as what I'm doing. Hunter activity has increased and we need to know why," I elaborated. She bit her lip, unable to argue with my logic. "Besides, if you show your face in the southern Archipelago, someone could recognize you. And if Stoick caught wind that you're alive, he wouldn't rest until he found you. And if he finds you, he can find the nest." My mom nodded before I even finished speaking.

"I know, I know. It was just a suggestion," she muttered. "Have you told Alpha?" She wondered.

I bit my lip, laughing nervously. "Yeah. You, uh…you were kinda the last one I told…" I admitted.

She scowled at the news. "You mean Cloudjumper knew and he didn't tell me?" She huffed indignantly. "He and I need to have a talk about loyalty." She rolled her eyes, heading towards the tunnel. "You coming?" She gestured in front of her.

"I just need to grab a few more things. You go ahead," I said dismissively. She nodded, casting one last long look in my direction before leaving.

As I gathered my stuff, I considered this plan of mine. Well, to be honest, there really wasn't much of a plan. I was going to find Cami first, and hopefully the two of us together could figure out what was going on with the dragons. The main issue so far seemed to be figuring out how to hide Toothless while we were there. Cami should be able to help in that regard. She would know the best place for me and Toothless to lay low. I technically didn't need to hide since no one would recognize me, but the idea of making my presence known to her whole tribe was unsettling. I'd focus on the task, and try to avoid contact with the humans.

The idea of visiting Berk while I was there had also crossed my mind, though I tried not to dwell on it. I didn't really want to go there, but I knew it was a possibility. The dragons hit them hardest, after all. There had to be some sort of connection there.

Still, I'm not sure how I'd react to seeing my father. He'd always been a story or a memory rather than a flesh and blood person. It was easier to forget my viking origins that way. I was afraid seeing him would change the way I saw myself. I was a dragon-soul, and that's all I ever wanted to be.

I forced my mind back to the present. I'd probably never get near Berk. I was stressing over nothing…

…Unfortunately, as it turned out, life had other plans.