As Berk prepares for the inevitable, our two heroes cannot excuse themselves from the annual celebration, which honors those who have sacrificed parts of themselves for their families and their tribe

"Don't you think it's a little excessive?" Hiccup said

Toothless stretched the chain between the manacles clamped shut on his paws taut and eyed it critically — and unnecessarily, considering that it was half as thick as the paws in question. Then he looked back at Hiccup and shook his head expressionlessly, which made both the padlock on the metal muzzle and the chain linking his heavy collar to the floor rattle.

Hiccup sighed. They'd been at it so many times that he knew what Toothless would say if not for the heavy muzzle: It needs to be as convincing as possible; we cannot risk THAT for my comfort.

"I can at least line it with something, bud. If it all comes to that, you'll be spending a lot of time in it."

An annoyed growl and an eye-roll. You need to be making more Manglers; everything else is secondary. Only you and Gobber are good enough to make some of the parts.

Hiccup shook his head, paced a little, then shot his best friend a glare. "You tested it out, now let me get you out of it."

But—

"And no buts, scouts will spot them coming and there will be time to shackle you up."

Toothless grumbled under his nose but showed no resistance when Hiccup set to work on unlocking the extensive array of thick metal restraints.

Gobber hobbled into the cell in the ring halfway through the process, opening the door wider for no apparent reason. "So, are ye both going to Stump Day or not?"

The Night Fury made an inquisitive noise, the best he could do with the muzzle still on him, while Hiccup looked bewildered. "Stump Day? You mean, us? Me? But…"

The old blacksmith rolled his eyes. "Aye, ye both. Ye both lost yer limb and yer both are heroes of Berk. Of course you qualify. Now, lemme help ya with that. It would be unfortunate if those morons of apprentices made a flawed hinge and made us take it apart in the forge."

"Come on, Gobber, they are new to the job," Hiccup defended."How long did it take me to get decent at it?"

Gobber took off the padlock from the collar. "You were good from the first week. Well, you would have been if not for yer destructive ideas. It's been months since they started and they still make basic mistakes!" The latch was, however, too misshapen to properly move. "And look at this! They seemed to get latches, but then came this thing. Too thick to be made properly, they said. Ha! I should have made them lock it like a proper shackle: fuse two pieces with an iron bolt!"

Toothless grumbled in annoyance from the ground, forced to keep his head on the floor for the blacksmith's convenience and being shaken along with the collar for his trouble.

"Yeah, and how would we take that off right now?" Hiccup snarked. Gobber just shrugged. "Eh, we wouldn't. T would need to get used to it, but that is kinda the point; it would make it look far more convincing for that whole 'kept captive' thing."

The dragon in question perked up. Hiccup groaned. Gobber finally unlatched the collar and raised his hook triumphantly.

"Please, don't give him any more ideas. You don't even want to know how ridiculous he was at first."

Gobber raised an eyebrow, his hand already working on another piece: a stock keeping Toothless's wings tightly closed and restricted from going anywhere but his back. "What, he wanted his paws tied to the collar?"

Hiccup shook his head and replied curtly, "Worse." Then felt the need to explain. "His idea of thorough is… pretty dang extreme." Toothless growled. Gobber patted him on the back in response and said, while scratching the back of his own head with his hook, "Sorry, lad, I didn't mean to talk over you."

Toothless only grumbled, more and more annoyed with each passing moment, until, at last, his jaws were freed again, and he flexed them immediately.

Hiccup sat back, work with the heap of metal finally over and done with. "I… I don't know, Gobber. There will be warriors there. I get why Toothless, but how would I fit in?"

Before a reply could exit Gobber's already opening mouth, Toothless retorted, "You will. Without you, I wouldn't have made—"

Hiccup shook his head, eyes on his knees. "If not for me, you wouldn't… need me."

The teen was startled by Toothless bumping his head against him; then large, soulful eyes peered into his own gently.

"Don't do that."

Hiccup shook his head. "I mean, if I didn't shoot y—" An enormous, wet tongue assaulted Hiccup's face. The human recoiled back and threw spit out of his face in disgust. "Toothless! What was that for?"

Toothless shrugged and said nothing. Hiccup sighed and tried again. "If I didn't—" The Night Fury took a step forward with his tongue rolling out of his mouth. Hiccup raised his hands panickedly.

"I—I mean, if you could fly on your own, you could do it yourself."

Toothless sat up, the duo ignoring Gobber, who was standing in the corner and looking between them with interest.

"No, I couldn't."

Hiccup waved his arms around at this retort. "Yes, you could!"

"No!"

"I got the idea of how to beat the Red Death from you!" At that, Toothless fell silent and Hiccup calmed down, before responding levelly, "I saw you shoot into that one Terror's mouth while he… she… whatever, after they started to prepare to fire. I mean, other than helping with the prosthetic, I only had the idea, and you'd already been using it before."

Toothless shook his head again. "That's... Not about it. I whouldh need yourh helph rhegarhdlessh of how able I wash. I trhushted you to guideh me, to—to command me, because I couldn't think. This… thing, it could affect dragon minds."

Hiccup rolled his eyes, but was clearly hooked, and uneasy. "Of course you would pronounce that right."

"Don't interrupt. Thankfully, tales of powerh of this kind of crheaturhe prhoved overrrrrhated as it couldn't make us do everything, but it shtill could keep us from thinking with thish conshtant buzzhing...drhoning, and induce emotions. I wash terrrrhifiedh out of my mindh, and I couldn't think whatsoeverh. Only rheason why I did anything elshe than flailh arhound and wail is you; I trusted you more than myself, friend. I still do." The friends looked into each other's eyes with adoration.

Gobber, of course, just had to live up to his name. "You would have flown into its maw?"

Toothless jerked, then nodded. The moment evaporated as quickly as it appeared. Gobber looked a little awkward, but soon shrugged and returned to his usual, joyous and loud self.

"Let's go then. Get a move on, you fire-breathing lizard!"

Toothless pointedly and smugly finished stretching after a long while without moving. "Yeah, yeah, just show yer draconic arrogance, whatever." Gobber rolled his eyes and hobbled out of the cell, but Hiccup and Toothless walked out at their own pace, facing the sour craftsmen waiting for them, denying him the satisfaction of making them move faster.

Gobber rolled his eyes after a while of glaring at the smug duo and, focusing on Hiccup with mock-worry, said, "This reptile is a bad influence on ya."

Hiccup shrugged, grinning, and fell into step at Toothless's side. "You coming?"

If Gobber could be more annoyed, then the sun could be black, but he hopped after them still, and there just may have been the smallest of smirks on his face.

As they moved through the town, a lot of glances were directed at Toothless, though far more of them were conflicted rather than hostile despite news of the incoming threat. People had grown used to the Night Fury in their midst, thanks to not only the passage of time but also just how human he behaved. Now, even without their life-debt, hardly anyone would be willing to strike him.

The Great Hall was shut closed, and there were people before it, eating their food on the steps, the feet of statues, and the hillside. Snotlout was one of them, and looked up from his food, fuming. "Don't tell me he can go inside. He lost a fin, not a limb."

Gobber shrugged. "Fine, I won't tell ya." The trio went past the grumbling Viking teen and up to the doors, which opened just enough for an inquisitive eye to peek through the crack, before being hurriedly opened.

"Heroes of Berk have come!" Bucket yelled joyously, then shut the massive door before Tuffnut's nose, not even looking in his direction. Applause rose from the forty or so Vikings inside, occupying a mighty space on this exact day for century already, with no chief making a issue out of it. Hiccup stiffened, but Toothless eased into the attention and spoke, "Thank you! Thank you!" Hiccup eased too, and, sticking close to his dragon friend, moved to the tables.

Gobber grumbled under his nose, then yelled irritatingly, "Am I even here? What, have you lot forgotten me?"

A much less enthusiastic and more half-hearted noise rewarded the blacksmith, who then rolled his eyes and smiled, strolling towards the two friends who were wondering where to fit the Night Fury at the table. Gobber tapped Toothless on the wing with his hook, heedless of the jerk that it caused. "Ya won't be throwing any chair away; there's your own." He pointed at a wooden contraption at the head of the table, that, after closer inspection, indeed could be called a chair, if a very peculiar one.

It had a sizable hole in the lower part of the backrest, as well as a bigger one in the upper part. Toothless looked at it quizzically, and the handless man on the nearby seat pointed out quickly, "Tail here, wings here, backside here."

So the tail went to the lower hole, the wings into the upper after some fumbling, and his backside on the wooden seat. Toothless fidgeted a little, wings fluttering, but settled down, if he held his paws awkwardly.

The handless man groaned and hit his face with both wooden facsimiles of lost body parts at once. "Of course I forgot about armrests." He glanced down, then groaned again. "And I should have added a footrest too. You have far different proportions."

Toothless shrugged. "I mean, it works."

But before he even finished, the man was already waving his arms. "No, it isn't! Chairs are supposed to be comfortable. I will make it better next time."

Hiccup sat at Toothless's side, which was at the head of the table, and shrugged. "Whatever works. I definitely don't know how to make furniture."

Gobber had a really, really big smirk, and Hiccup instantly regretted bringing this topic up. "Ah, ya can make furniture alright; you just can't stop yerself from trying to make parts retractable with more gears than there are nails on Berk."

Hiccup raised his hands in surrender. "Let's not talk about it, okay?" Gobber not-so-graciously accepted the gesture, never ceasing to grin, even as he waved his hand in dismissal.

A shape moved in the unlit part of the hall, and Hiccup looked there, blinking, only to realise that it was the familiar Monstrous Nightmare, cloaked by his dark red scales in the darkness.

"Hey, Hookfang!" he greeted, more comfortable talking to a dragon than to a human – a dragon that blinked and quickly adjusted his bearing towards him, still limping on the paw that was struck by a spear in the battle with the Berserkers.

Hookfang only grunted in response, but Hiccup didn't mind. What he did mind, though, was the harness spread out across the dragon's torso and keeping a big, big patch of leather in place. "How is your prosthetic holding?"

The dragon shot him a glance of gratitude before returning to his usual grumpy self. "I can fly, but I can't flame. Flame up, I mean."

Hiccup nodded morosely. "Yeah, sorry, but I don't think it can be helped. There is just no elastic enough material that can endure your fire, and while I can make a harness out of metal links, chafing as it would be, the prosthetic membrane still needs to remain leather."

Hookfang let out a small sigh before finding four unused chairs and preparing to knock them away with his good wing, only to be stopped by Gobber's yell and instead sat behind the row of seats. He, at least, could stretch his neck over them easily; not so much for dragons without snaky necks.

But making the tables wider to fit plates for dragons with such long necks would be useful, and easier to make than chairs of this size and complexity. Hiccup turned to the craftsman – whose name he couldn't recall now (clunky memory) – with the intention of discussing this idea, but his attention was rapidly snatched and his head snapped towards one very specific word being mentioned in another conversation:

Blitz.

Toothless looked at Hookfang in consternation. Hiccup rapidly realised that of course a dragon with not even a hint of how the world outside the archipelago looked would want to know more about the enemy everyone knew they would be facing, oblivious to just how heavy the topic is. "How was it in the Blitz?"

Sound died away from the hall; an uneasy silence descended upon the four dozen maimed people – nearly a quarter of Berk.

At last, Toothless sighed and leaned back on his chair, apparently getting the hang of how to use it.

"I don't know how to summarise it, so I may get long-winded."

He fell silent for a while, during which Hiccup worriedly looked over the expressions of the people in the hall. It was as much as a given that Toothless was part of the Blitz at this point, what with the plan of using him as a bargaining chip to stall them, and with the conclusion that pretty much everyone could draw (well, besides Bucket, perhaps) that he must have been part of it, and in some way important.

Thankfully, there weren't any openly hostile expressions when Toothless began. "Imagine that you arhe back durhing Drhagon Warh, just like then you fought enemy that you couldn't understand, that you couldn't strike back against, and each attempt at that resulted in catastrhophe, that only thing you can do is defend, but you know that slowly but surhely you arhe loosing."

"We weren't losing, just getting better at fighting dragons," pointed out Gobber, and, to the whole hall's surprise, Toothless nodded.

"You werhe, you arhe grheat fighterhs, but if an enemy can attack you and you can't attack them, then eventually they will get lucky or figurhe something out. If defense is yourh only option, then defeat is sealed."

The hall went silent, letting the dark dragon gather his thoughts, and he sent Hiccup a sad smile before continuing.

"Then you find a way, a way to strhike back virhtually without consequences to yourself, to go on the offense, to scorhe victorhy afterh victorhy, flying out of long chain of defeat and hopelessness, of becoming unstoppable forhce, of banishing grheatest monsterhs from the worhld, rheverhing in absolute camarhaderhie and unquestionable assurhance of yourh actions, zealous and rhighteous, carhrhying most beautiful and endless flame of yourh own futurhe, that you think that truly nothing is impossible, that you arhe at the top of the world, its new masterhs, ascendant and ultimate."

His gaze dropped from eye level and down to the table. The next sentence he spoke quietly, as if to himself, "And we have to face that down."

Hookfang hummed in thought, then said, "Kill their ruler?"

"The Blitz doesn't have a ruler. The Blitz doesn't have a hierarchy. Everyone does things because they believe it is what they should do, or trust others to lead them, but absolutely nothing makes them. Killing off some of the better leaders would be a problem for them, but they won't stop their efforts, they won't want peace, because every last one of them believes, is convinced, that it is the right thing to do."

Toothless's head hung down, then he raised and shook it rapidly. "But we won't be facing many, at least at first. They wouldn't need that many Night Furies to destroy every settlement on the archipelago with the usage of good old tactics, if we didn't have dragons and Manglers at our disposal. Twenty, maybe forty, if my mother feels like it." People muttered amongst themselves; so Toothless was just someone's important offspring. This they could all easily understand, it is how it worked with vikings too, after all.

"Won't be facing much, ya say? Then you say twenty to forty Night Furies. How many of them are there?" Gobber said, shaking his head, clearly uneasy. Toothless shrugged.

"There were slightly above two hundred when I flew off to here, but that was twenty years ago. I don't see them numbering in less than a thousand in any case. More likely a few thousand."

Hiccup placed his palm on his forehead, suddenly feeling more uneasy than any words could express, despite hearing it before already, when Toothless told all this to his father. Nearly everyone around the table was faring just as bad or worse. Still, he found his mouth working of its own accord. "How… how can we fight—do anything against so many? They could all shoot once and there'd be nothing left."

Toothless tilted his head, pupils narrow and ear-flaps pressed tightly to his neck. "That is their overall tactic, rheally. Brhing so much firhepowerh that it ishn't even a fight." His pupils then widened a little, and he snorted with a somewhat forced confidence. "But we won't be facing that many, ever. Everything needs to eat. The only reason why they could move so fast and so tightly back during the Blitz was that they had an abundance of meat from the villages they destroyed, but those are gone now. They will need to hunt on the way, and there is no way more than a few dozen could move together in one group, and even that is stretching it."

The Night Fury leaned forward, but was stopped by his wings stuck on the rim of the hole he had put them through and fumbled a little to get them out. Hiccup's mind rapidly devised the idea of creating rivets on the upper backrest instead of a hole in it, so the sitting dragon could naturally get them out by just raising them or even leaning forward, nearly without his input. Or he was just too numb over the horrifying information returning to the forefront. Thousands. Just…

Toothless sighed, closing his eyes and looking down, then continued without raising his head. "But it isn't a limit, not really. Hundreds of them can move in a few separate groups and then converge upon attack." The dragon's expression turned thoughtful. "But it would mean that we would be able to defeat them in detail, and coordination would be an issue for them. Some may grow restless and think that they can strike without waiting for the whole force… Fifty would be a close match to us all, though, and they wouldn't be spread out over more than a few days, which would be too little for us to fully recover from one fight to another. I don't see how we could hold this place."

Gobber waved his hand…hook. "Oi, don't you think we were preparing for the Blitz all the time they ravaged, and even a little when it all calmed down? There are stores in caves under the island is what I'm saying, a full-on second village down there; all we would need to rebuild, even from the complete destruction." He shook his head. "Eh, but making it put quite the pressure on us – we nearly hadn't made a few winters, even some raids."

Stoick likely will complain about seeding panic later, so Hiccup finally took it upon himself to stop it all.

"We won't be fighting alone. Now, does anyone want to talk about… umm…" Great, and now I stutter.

Gobber came to his aid with so smug a grin that Hiccup would rather have failed. "Yeah, yeah, right. It is supposed to be our day! We can worry tomorrow, but today we should drink! Eat! Brawl! Tell our stories!" He raised the mug that he had replaced his hook with – and even filled, while Hiccup wasn't looking.

The amputees collectively snorted; no one failed to see what Gobber tried to do, and, in an eerily synchronous way, took their own mugs. Hiccup rapidly suppressed his anxiousness over not doing the same; the times when he wanted to fit in so hard were over, but old habits were lasting foes.

Toothless twisted his nose at the mead, and Hiccup carefully measured the cup presented to him, trying to figure out how much of it he could drink without getting himself drunk. It was pitifully small, of course.

When the mead-filled mug slid towards Toothless, he shook his head and slid further down in his chair. "No, why would I drink this rotten… thing, anyway?"

"Because we do it!" Happily exclaimed Gobber, Toothless just rolled his eyes. "Behaviorhal tendencies of yourh speciesh ish no arhgument on individual actionsh, much lessh those of otherh kindsh."

Gobber waved his head left and right. "Yadda, yadda, yadda. Ya just can't take it. Too strong a drink for a Night Fury. You passed out after not at all that much the last time."

In a startlingly swift yet fluid, predatory movement, Toothless grabbed the mug and raised his head rapidly, then deposited the item back on the table just as quickly and surely, as if it wasn't even moved, except for a rich coating of saliva.

"I can, but what ish the point in drhinking thish? It ishn't even tashty."

Gobber grinned widely and toothily, sliding another mug towards Toothless. "That is opinion, not argument. And you are bigger; a few mugs is less for you than it would be for us, so no, you can't."

The dragon drank it the same way as the last one and responded with a huff. "Fair point, but it doesn't invalidate you using such a bad argument in the firsht place; doing something because someone elshe doesh."

Another over-full mug showed up, only to be rapidly drunk down. "Which doesn't change the fact that you couldn't take it."

Toothless threw the mug at him from his mouth lightly instead of depositing it down. "You are infuriating."

Gobber simply nodded with an unwashable smile and brought another mug forward, which was promptly gulped down, and Hiccup's amusement started to turn into a bad, bad feeling.

"So, how much do you think I should be able to drink?"

"As much as… hm, six Vikings."

Another mug was gulped down without the slightest sign of even being tipsy. Then a look was shot at the whole table. "How much has Gobber ever drunk at once?"

It was now a very bad feeling.

"Sixty mugs!" claimed the blacksmith, but he was ignored by the dark dragon. Not so lucky was the same person that made the chair for Toothless. "Sixty!? You old windbag, the most you ever drank in one day was thirty-two! That was twenty years ago, and you fell unconscious right after!"

"Details!" retorted the blacksmith, failing to spot Toothless getting up and walking towards the few people sitting around the mead barrel and filling mugs for others. But Hiccup had a really clear view of it, which his own hand extending over his face in a mix of worry and giddiness nearly obstructed.

He had a very, very bad feeling about this.

Toothless nudged one of the people around the barrel – a woman with a nose already red from alcohol and with shaky movements. "For how many mugs is there mead in there?"

…his feeling was even worse.

"Uhh, tle—tla, um, eigly. Eighty." Hiccup got up from his chair, but it was already too late. Toothless grabbed a nearby unused barrel of mead in his claws – strong enough to have them pierce wood and spill little rivulets of liquor – then butted its lid with his nose hard enough to break it and started gulping it down.

"Just great. Drunk dragon incoming," Hiccup finally said, arms slumping, as people finally spotted what Toothless was doing and started to cheer for him. Hopefully, Toothless won't be too unmanageable…

Toothless threw down the emptied barrel and glared at Gobber, his movements still swift and sharp despite all the alcohol he had just drunk. "So? I can't take it? Tell it again!"

Gobber's grin was a permanent feature, it seemed. "You just drank for two of young me, not six!"

Hiccup made a completely futile attempt to intervene, and he knew it. "Bud, Gobber made a new record back then. You don't have to drink six times more than it!"

The dragon shrugged his wings and went for the second barrel, now a bit awkward and slurring. "Whateverrrrr."

The teenager looked at Gobber flatly, the blacksmith having in turn the biggest smile he had ever seen on him, threatening to split his face in two. "Are you proud of what you have done?"

Gobber nodded with a never-ending grin. Toothless started slurring nonsense in Latin and stumbling around the hall. Hiccup hid his face in his hands with a protracted groan that only teenagers were capable of making.