The very thing, that had greeted her the good morning, which accompanied the bright rays of sun and the warmth of the blankets, was the heartbeat by her ear, having an even rhythm, also the soothing overtone. Therefore, she'd not been very keen to arouse, to even merely open her eyes, however, being blinded by the glow, unable to disregard it, she'd gazed at the world, cocked her brows, when she saw Toothless's face only.

Having his eyes closed, his lips departed, he'd lay on his side whereas his arms circled her loosely, underneath her neck and around her waist, his legs devoid of the covering, which trapped her legs, currently. The moment she'd straightened up, his arms tensed around her, although lightly enough so she'd freed herself from them without further waking him up, seizing his forearms into her palms and pulling them down.

Afterward, sitting in the same position, not moving an inch, she'd stared at him, at each and every feature of his face, at the strands of the raven, fetching hair, that managed to plaster itself to the man's cheek. Within a short giggle, she'd taken them away, carefully tucked them behind his ear, before actually moving away, trembling when the warmness of the two, strong arms by her sides abandoned her body.

The further dawn was, basically, an automatic routine - the quick toilet, getting changed from nightclothes, and the breakfast, which took shorter than usual to prepare and which she carried upstairs. Therefore, she'd sat by her desk, gradually emptying the plain, clay bowl, while Toothless's begun to snore, which hadn't gone unnoticed by her, and she'd started pondering, whether to suffocate him with a pillow or not.

Ultimately, she'd managed to take her mind off the sound, mostly by putting it into the work, finally handling the papers and books, that emerged and grew, as if the mountain onto her desk, since the very Toothless's arrival. As for the man himself, she'd not even had to turn around to feel these bright, acid-green eyes on herself, and so, the smirk rose on her face when she spoke, not even glancing at him in the meanwhile.

"Good mornin', sleepy head," she greeted, turning to him, just as to enjoy the view of that barely woken, lost expression of his. "I can see, ye've had just a fine night."

"Surely," he responded, his voice hoarse, wiping his eye whilst the other studied the room, cautiously. "Where's the bucket?"

"Not today. I've good quite good humor, so ya'd better not destroy it," she defined, grabbing the second bowl, which had been laying at the edge of the desk, stood up, and approached him, handing him the dish. "Here, eat."

"What's this?" he asked, wrinkled his nose when scenting the strong, milk aroma. "Ain't you have anything normal?"

"Porridge. Ain't ya grumble, until ya try," she encouraged, crossing her arms as he'd pursed his lips, stubbornly. "C'mon, taste it! If ya ain't like it, I'll get ya fish, but please, try at the very least."

For a while more he'd remained continuously persistent, however, after the rather brief, but fierce staring contest, that Hiccup's won beyond compare, he inhaled, before bringing the spoon into his mouth and swallowing. Somewhat instantly he'd eaten another spoonful, and the next, and so on, until the whole bowl was drained, and while that, the woman outright chuckled, watching the man dining, as if he'd not eaten for years and she'd placed the feast in front of him.

"Honestly, I'd expect everythin', but that," she stated, smirking at him.

"Me either," he agreed, then put the bowl on the bedside table, emptied to the drop, "but, fuck, that was delicious," he complimented, and only then glanced at amused Hiccup, the desk, and back. "Anyway, what you've been working on?"

"If ye're curious see for yerself," she offered, sitting back by the desk, whereas he'd followed her, settled at the bed's farthest edge, and lifted his eyebrow, once she handed him a piece of paper. "I've written here some ideas, on how to deal with the curse."

"Ideas?" he repeated, narrowed his eyes at the string of words, then read, "Uncover the truth to everybody, either: straightforwardly, gradually, or Honey and the Hatchet?"

"An issue-solvin' Vikings' method," she clarified, having the corner of her mouth lifted. "First, ya sweeten the talk to somebody - that's a honey, and then, ain't mince any words - the hatchet."

"But of course it is," he responded, shaking his head obviously. "Why the second is just: food?"

"Ya ain't have any idea, what hungry Viking'd do for a good portion of chicken."

"No doubt here," he approved, afterward outright snorted, glancing at Hiccup humorously, as he quoted, "Let them exterminate each other - really?"

"I-I was bugged when writin' that," she justified and jerked the paper from him whilst he'd laughed, before crossing her arms and adding, swiftly, "Besides, better any plan than none, isn't that right, wiseass?"

Thereafter, she'd expected him to roll his eyes, grin amused, perhaps chuckle minorly, however, he'd taken her by surprise, because he'd only straightened, his expression overtaken by sincerity, and gazed at her, intensively. Tongue-tied, the woman must've corrected her seating herself, unable to figure out whatever was on the man's mind, which brought on him the fight, the quarrel, as if he'd battled himself to whether uncover or not.

Finally, he'd appeared victorious, since he'd parted his lips to speak, yet before the word sounded from him, he was interrupted by the racket of steps downstairs, which were getting near the Hiccup's room's door, rather quickly. In an instant, they'd both jumped to their feet, the alarm painted on Hiccup's face when she recognized the familiar sound of wood being knocked against the wood - the prosthesis - at the stairs.

At once, she'd moved the confused man to the side, and the very second before the door extended, managed to force him to lie behind the bed, to hide himself, notwithstanding his noticeable aversion for so. Just as the Gobber's figure appeared inside the threshold, Hiccup stopped dead, her posture straight, just off the bed's rear, where Toothless's been, and to lead his attention from the spot, she stepped forward, quickly.

"Good mornin', lad," Gobber greeted, his eyes low, and so missing the woman's strange behavior, fortunately. "Can we talk, please?"

"I-," she started, was about to oppose, however, glimpsing the rather gloomy, ashamed expression of his, sighed defeated. "Sure."

Afterward, the man entered inside and sat on the edge of the bed, nearly catching Toothless, however was unaware of that, since he'd wiped his face while settling down, delivering Hiccup not so short heart attack when so. Just as she'd managed to calm her inner senses, she'd seated beside him, scanned his bent back, his anxious-moving prosthesis, his reddish eyes, which were continuously on the floor, and was about to speak, but was fast to be interrupted.

"I haven't seen ya at the village, in a while," he began, twisting his axe prosthesis in a circle. "I've been worried."

"I've got a lot on my mind," she replied, turning her head away, her arms embracing themselves. "Gobber, if that's all that ye've to say-,"

"I'm sorry, lad. I'm sorry for ever callin' yer ideas farce, for pushin' ya away, after ye've wanted only to help," he apologized, and gazed at her, finally. "To be honest, it's been tough, lately."

That's a likely excuse, Hiccup could swear, she'd heard Toothless's voice say so, hence brightened quickly, before fixing her eyes on the blond guest and asking, "What's goin' on?"

"Eh, what to say? The forge's rebuild's goin' slow, people's gettin' nervous, and yer father haven't returned yet," he confessed, leaned his forehead at his arm, supported on his knee. "I'm fearin' the worst."

"It ain't certain what's happened," she reassured, herself tautening her back, anxious. "Soon, they'll be back."

"I hope, ye're right. I'm not fit to be chief, not for so lon', surely," he sniggered quietly, then straightened, grunted whilst locking his eyes on her. "Again, I'm very sorry for how I've treated ya. I know words aren't much enough-,"

"Ya know what? 's okay," she broke in, grinning underneath her nose, mindful of the two confusions that she'd provoked. "Ye've always been such a support, I couldn't stay offended. Besides, either way, I'm-, I'm happy, and ain't mind, anymore."

"I've noticed," he remarked, the smile debuting on his face. "I ain't remember a time when I've seen ya smile like that - honestly smile, happily smile," he admitted, then, after the brief silence, stood up, heavily. "I should be goin'. Ye're expectin' yer boyfriend to come, presumably."

"My-, my who, now?" she asked, peeking behind pithily, however, not glimpsing even the sliver of Toothless, returned her gaze at Gobber, relieved. "I-I ain't have-,"

"Ain't lie to me, Hiccup. I might be old, but my hearin' isn't worst, and I hear, whenever someone's smashin' metal inside my very home," he pointed out, lifting an eyebrow at wide-eyed Hiccup, though laughing when stopping by the door's frame. "Even if they ain't the best match - ye've melted an excellent sword, after all - ain't worry. I'll not tell anyone, well maybe until I can help it."

"I-I-," she stuttered, although surrendered thereafter, sighed conquered. "Goodbye, Gobber."

"Ye've got pass today, but tomorrow, the very mornin', I expect to see ya at the rebuild. Clear?" he added, stared at her until she'd nodded, and beamed, at last. "Goodbye."

Only then had he really leaven, shutting the door behind himself, which she'd leaned her back on, sliding toward the ground against, whereas Toothless emerged from behind his hideout and gazed at her, amused. They'd barely withstood laughing out loud when their eyes met, much oblivious that Gobber could've been still in the building, hearing everything, and so, the man approached the woman, whispered as he crouched to level her.

"Just to be clear, it was your idea to discipline me the loudest possible way," he joked, although his smile fading once hers changed into a grimace of gloom, unexpectedly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin', really nothin'," she answered, but even so Toothless pulled his hand out, as if already aware, as if he'd read her mind, and so, she handed him her hand, allowed his fingers to stroke her skin. "Thanks."

"Glad to help," he responded, asked after a moment, "May I see those farce ideas of yours? I promise not to laugh, not too much, at least," and grinned, seeing the most stunning smile he'd ever seen.

"So, that's the machine, that shot me down from the sky," Toothless said, narrowing his eyes at the catapult, drawn onto the yellowish papirus he'd held. "I thought, it'd be… bigger."

"'s just the draft of it," Hiccup clarified, rolling her eyes at him, corner of her mouth lifted. "The real one was taken apart years ago, like most of my work."

"Why?" he asked, knitting his brows, glancing at her, forthrightly puzzled.

The sun, previously the bright, sandy glare, transformed into a pleasant, chilling sunset, which colored the entire room with the dyes of a whole rainbow, when the day came to a very end, after its protracted period. During it, they'd not stepped outside Hiccup's room, currently lying stomach first on the whole length of her bed, picking up yet another of the papers, which covered the whole space's footing.

"Well, to be honest, I tend to be reckless with these projects of mine, dangerous even," she admitted, tensing her shoulders, embarrassed. "In my defense, I'm just ambitious, a little too much, but have good intentions."

"Ah, so that's how it is," he continued, smirked at her teasingly, even shifted nigher for effect. "They're trying to protect you from yourself."

"Well, yes and no. For instance, that launcher," she started, stabbing her finger into the mentioned machine's sketch. "They may not ever believe that I've caught Night Fury, but besides this, 's a flawless weapon. Why they've destroyed it?"

"I'd like to know myself," he replied, apparently the entertainment never really fleeing him, because he added, "Although I'm rather relieved that you won't be able to shoot me down, again."

"Ye're aware that I might reconstruct it, right?" she mentioned, giggling when he nudged her with his shoulder, annoyed.

"Let's see more," he proposed, lifting another draft up, which Hiccup gasped when glancing at.

"Ye've found my sword!" she cheered, brightly smiling at the poorly detailed, lopsided illustration of the cited weapon with the crooked blade. "That's my very first idea, which I got when I was four - the sword that could be flamed. I was bullied for it since Vikings prefer axes over swords, and because of fire, obviously."

"Adorable, if you ask me. I meant the sword, not the bully part," he justified, whilst Hiccup snorted, shaking her head, unbelievably. "I thought you've made machines only?"

"There's a lot of everythin' - weapons, devices, tools," she explained and reached for the crumpled paper just off. "Right here, for another example, ye've got an axe," she illustrated, showing the sketch with the half-blade emptied by the handle. "That's not my invention - the bearded axe - but I wanted to test my father, if 's really the idea's fault or mine," she remarked, before throwing the picture back at the ground, the same crumpled as previously. "Guess how 'd went."

"I'm sorry," he responded, casually relying his head on hers, which leaned on his shoulder. "If that's any consolation, I'd like to have such an axe, very much."

"If ya'll ask nicely, I'll think of makin' one. No promises though," she kidded, and sighed, looking around, after they'd both had some laugh. "I'd not search more. Other than a magnifying glass, a crossbow-shield, and a water system for savin' burnin' houses, there's not anythin' worthwhile."

"Talk all you want! I'll search everything through either way," he pressed, blinked baffled at the next image. "This isn't any draft, is it?"

"Nepenthe Island! I've been lookin' for ya!" she shouted at the drawing, which pictured the quoted, mountainous isle. "I'd been there with my father once, whilst he'd handled his chief's duties. Just breathtakin'!"

"You're joking, right?" he inquired, just after he'd taken a closer look at the illustration. "You're aware, that island's just massive dragons, right?"

Initially, Hiccup blinked at him confused, was about to burst into laughter, however, witnessing his serious self, uttered, "No," the shock surpassing her face.

"If you ain't believe me, look at the trees. They're too even to be created by nature, don't you think?" he spotted, pointing with his fingers the noticed dependence. "Humans call them Foreverwings if I recall correctly."

"Oh, my fuckin' gods," Hiccup muttered, her eyes wide, almost plastered to the image. "So this means, that my beloved island, was just dragons?! I loved it!"

"You loved it?"

"Well, love might be too stron' a word, but-,"

"Hold on, hold on," he stopped her, stroked his forehead, and gazed at her, puzzled. "What's that love of yours?"

"Love?" she asked, tilted her head at him, and snickered, at last. "Ye've got me here, Toothless. I've almost got caught in that."

"Hiccup-,"

"There isn't the possible way, that ya'd not know what love is," she declared, grimacing when he'd remained the same severe. "Really?"

"I've never heard about it until now."

"How?!"

"How could I know?!" he remarked, shrugging vigorously. "I'm not very wary of these human things!"

"Love ain't human!" she yelled, then pinched the bridge of her nose, mumbling, "How's one to explain love?"

"You've used it in a sentence," he noticed, leaning his crossed forearms on the sheets. "It must've some meaning."

"Well, the word itself means bein' fond of somethin', havin' an emotional connection to it," she explained, gesturing each term with her hands. "As for the feelin'," she paused, only after a moment asked, suddenly. "What perception has a dragon about their other half?"

"Other half? Like, mate?" he inquired, continued when she'd nodded, even if uncertainly. "Well, it's not anything wonderful. From what I've observed throughout my life, the connection - between the male and the female - created during the mating season, is based on the simplest obligation."

"A lot's based on that obligation, as far as I've noticed," she memorized, frowning her brows. "Responsibility over the flock, family, hatchlings. Ye're forced into it?"

"Forced isn't the best word… though well-fitting," he stated, scratching his neck. "The truth's, we've always considered these relations as reproduction manner, rather than sentiment. When everything's done, after the hatchlings were born and raised to be independent, everybody just goes their way."

"That sounds awful," she declared, her face screaming disgust.

"Why? It's the natural order of things," he clarified, cocking his eyebrows, indifferent. "No attachment means no pain."

"Ya'd like it?" she questioned, glancing away, her furrowed brows betraying her offense. "Ya'd like it, if we've done everythin' necessary, then departed into the unknown?"

"Earlier, without a doubt," he recalled, gazed at her, and, notwithstanding her dismay, smiled. "Now," he started, although didn't resume, until his arm was around her back as she stared at him, surprised. "Now, I'd not survive it."

"And that," she murmured, their eyes twirled around each other, "that's love. The devotion, commitment toward somebody, which isn't forced, isn't pushed, the attachment, which endures anythin' and everythin'."

"If so, do we love each other?" he asked, staring at her as if the answer to that question could destroy him, end his life.

"As friends, family, of course," she agreed, smiling weakly. "Platonically."

"Platonically?" he repeated, his hand clenched on her side. "There's more?"

"Yes, because, foremostly, love's about two souls, two mates, that chose themselves for eternity. It's about beings who create lives together, their family - the love between two halves," she described, the slight blush welcoming on her face, "the romantic love."

"Okay, okay," he blurted, brushing his brows, continually baffled, "but, how do you know, whether you love somebody like that? How do you know, whether you want to spend eternity with oneself?"

"Wish I knew. I've never been in love," she defined, the quick smirk passing her face. "'though, if ya'd like to have an answer to that, ya'd better ask some philosopher from Greece, Rome maybe. Ye're rather fond of them."

"Oh, I downright love them," he jested, peeked at her whereas she'd giggled, before asking, "If you were to be loved, how you like it to be? How do you imagine that?"

"I'd like to be loved, just as my parents loved each other," she answered, grinning brightly at the thought. "I'd like to have, what they had."

"I hate to ask that, but," he muttered, his eyes gaining sympathy while staring at her, "why had?"

Consequently, she'd not responded exactly immediately, she'd taken an inhale, before mumbling, "My mom died when I was an infant. The dragon took her," and adding, when his hand curled around hers two.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm fine. I ain't want to think about it, much," she pressed and Toothless didn't push further, listened as she continued, "To be honest, in several respects, ya resemble my father."

"Do I really look like a brutal Viking to you?"

"Well, for course," she approved, the light smirk evident on her face. "Also, the tough, stron' man, who works hard for everythin' he owns and cares for everyone he loves."

"You'd better not boost my ego that much, either it'll take a toll on you, sooner than later," he suggested and she squinted her eyes at him, irritated. "Since we know father, how was your mother like?"

"People often say, that she'd been much like me."

"Submissive and peaceable?"

"Ha, ha," Hiccup groaned while he'd snickered, teasingly. "Well, yes, she was. I'd been once told, she'd fought for peace between our own."

"Did she really?" Toothless inquired, chuckling surprised. "Like a mother, like a daughter."

"Isn't this right?" she agreed, joyfully. "These two, they'd met, when my father was asked to teach her since she'd not been doin' the best at the trainin'. He's always laughin', how he'd been forced to those additional lessons that he'd hated just as he'd hated her."

"Your father, your very much in love father, hated her?"

"Oh yes, with reciprocity. After all, they'd been the complete opposite of each other," she elucidated, loosening her body when speaking further, "Lon' story short, 'd been my father, who fell in love first, nobody knows how. One day, he'd just… changed. He'd admired her, complimented her, despite the peers' tease danced with her, in front of everybody's eyes. The love, 'd made him do things, which he'd never considered him to do."

Henceforth, he'd stared at her, into her eyes, and stated, "It must've been an exceptional love, that they'd created," his voice low, quiet.

"Surely, and that's how I'd like my love to be - like theirs," she admitted, beaming at him. "I'd like to find someone, who would love me, despite my imperfections. Someone, who would accept my flaws, and see them as virtues. I'd like to feel always useful around them, anytime and anywhere. I'd want to feel supported, protected, that's what I want. That's how I'd like to be loved."

Subsequently, Toothless's eyes, which were constantly locked on her, lowered them to the ground, and mumbled, "I'd want to be able to love," whereas Hiccup shook her head, only.

"Ye're able to love, ye've always been," she insisted, inching closer to him, so their arms outright crushed against one another's. "Ye're scared, to give yerself to someone, after all, ye've strained only to survive throughout the entire life, and that's not a slight devotion. However, fallin' in love, 's easier than supposed, and ya'll fall in love, someday surely," she assured, widened her eyes when they'd met his. "The best is, 'll take one glance, one brief moment, and ya'll realize, that ya'd want to stay with someone," she whispered, their faces inches from each other's, feeling one another's breaths at lips, "for eternity, forever and ever."

"That sounds beautiful," he confessed, his face unable to read, his voice unable to tell, whether serious or nervous. "Do you really believe, I could have it, someday?"

"Everybody loves, Toothless," she persisted, not noticing when her hands brushed his. "Everybody differently, everybody uniquely, but still just as much."

"You'd better be right," he urged, pressing his forehead into hers, cupping her chin with his hand, and closing his eyes. "I'll never forgive you, for giving me hope for something as incredible."

"I'm not lyin'," she promised, only after sinking into the warmth of his palm, shutting her eyes herself. "Be patient, and 'll come."

"I'll wait," he pledged, opened his eyes to gaze at her dropped lids, and smiled. "Even when death gazes into my eyes, even if only then I'll find that love, even then, I'll be happy, the happiest."