Chapter 10 - Discovery

A crow chirped on a branch overhead, and Stoick looked up at it sternly, grunting in annoyance. The bird squawked in alarm and flew off, more than startled by his sudden appearance. He had been walking through the forest for awhile, putting more distance between him and the village he had used to call home. Where he was going though, he didn't know. He had no home to return to anymore, not as a Night Fury, a creature of death and destruction. No longer a man, no longer a father...what was he now other than a danger to those he cared for?

The memory of when he had held Hiccup in his arms again back in the cells came to Stoick's mind. His son had trusted him, risked life, limb, and reputation to help him escape. And how had he repaid that? By giving in to something primal, and nearly killing him. Had he done that, he doubt he would have even bothered to escape the Vikings that had been so intent on killing him themselves.

A wave of sympathy for the young Ingerman lad that had taken the blow for Hiccup washed through him as well. He hoped to Valhalla that the boy was ok, that the wounds he had inflicted were only scarring and not fatal. The man-turned-dragon looked down at front right paw, and could see a smidgen of dried blood there. The blood of a young Viking who had helped to free him.

Stoick gritted his teeth, then slammed his paw down into the ground. This wasn't how things were supposed to have happened! He was so close, oh so close to being with his son again. He could have shown that he was still the man inside, the father he was, and would be...

And now that chance was gone, and there was nothing left for him. A low croon sounded through the air, and Stoick took a moment to realize it had come from him. He recognized the sound, it was usually what a dragon made once it realized it was captured and captive of the Vikings it had tried to harm. Well, now he was in the opposite position. Free of the Vikings, but trapped in the body of a dragon.

Stoick continued walking aimlessly, hearing the wind rustling the branches above him. It was a peaceful sound, almost calming, until it was interrupted by a low growl. He whipped his head around, wondering where it had come from. The growl came again, but this time with a painful feeling in the center of his stomach.

Hunger...

Stoick froze as the thoughts from before rose again like a flower blooming in the back of his shook his head in an attempt to shake them off, but the feeling of hunger only grew, both physically and mentally.

Need to find food...

Stoick snarled lowly to himself, pupils beginning to dilate...then he ran forward towards a tree, slamming his head into it and making it shake so hard that a couple branches fell off from the impact, tumbling over him. He stood there panting, not blinking as he rested his skull against the trunk, waiting for that inner voice to speak up again. But after a moment, it hadn't, even after his stomach growled itself once more.

A heavy breath escaped him, and Stoick wondered just how much longer he would last like this. No food, no shelter, nothing to live for...it occurred to him that this was basically the equivalent of being exiled from the village. But as a dragon, Stoick living was just a risk, a danger to anyone who came across him. As unfamiliar as he was with this body, he had still managed to escape a Viking village with minimal harm. He couldn't bear to think what he would be once he got used to this. Add to that that there was another side of him, that wasn't him, and Stoick knew that it wouldn't be long before whatever it was took over. Or at the very least, made him did something he would regret...again.

Another rumble sounded from his stomach. Another reminder that unless he found sustenance, he would very well starve, or lose himself completely to the instincts within. Stoick considered his options. The village of course would have food for dragons, but considering that he had no desire to steal from his own village, that would hardly be the best option. The problem was, it was his only option. He certainly didn't know how to get food for himself in this body; heck, he still didn't know how to fly. And like he had always heard and said to Hiccup, a downed dragon was a dead one.

Hiccup...

Stoick wondered what his son could be doing now. Then his heart skipped a beat when he realized his son had freed a dragon, and not just any dragon, a Night Fury. One that the village had feared and hoped to kill for generations. It they needed any more of a reason to ostracize the boy further, this would be it, and that was if he was lucky enough to not get banished outright. Stoick wished he could see what his son was going through...

…

Hiccup could only stand there and stare at Gobber, who was looking at him with an expression so serious it made him unrecognizable. He pondered over what to say, and figured he could stall by answering a question with a question.

"Uh...what did Fishlegs say exactly?" Hiccup said, thinking for a moment that he was going to kill Fishlegs for blabbering to Gobber. Then he kicked himself a second later when he realized he had nearly done that already back at the cages.

"I asked you first." Gobber answered bluntly. "I wanna hear what really happened back in that forest, straight from you." He crossed his arms, his hook flashing from the sunlight that came through the window. "Don't lie." he added. "I really don't want to waste time if what Ingerman said was true."

Hiccup cursed inwardly, not happy with how things were happening right now. Then again, his own plan had already fallen apart out of the gate. At least now, if he did tell the truth, what happened next wouldn't be entirely his fault...he hoped.

Breathing a sigh of defeat, or perhaps relief, Hiccup opened his mouth and let the truth come forth. Everything. From shooting down the Night Fury, to stupidly freeing it, to his dad transforming into a dragon himself before his eyes. It was a long story, but throughout it all, Gobber just kept quiet, his serious face softening into a more relaxed one as Hiccup continued to tell him about what happened back in the forest that morning. The young Viking was thankful for his silence; there were many points where Hiccup had to pause and muster himself up to continue, like when he had described seeing his father's body lying on the ground.

Finally, Hiccup got to the point where he and Gobber had first gone back to his house after the dragon's capture, and it was here the blacksmith finally spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Gobber asked.

Hiccup was bewildered at the question. Wasn't it obvious?

"Because I didn't think you would believe me." Hiccup said.

Gobber nodded understandingly, stroking his chin while looking away in thought. "Aye, that's true. Can't say the others would take ya seriously."

Hiccup peered at Gobber curiously. "Wait...are you...you believe me?"

Gobber locked eyes with him again, giving the boy a smirk. "Haddock, I believe in trolls that steal socks, I'm more surprised you thought I wouldn't believe you."

Hiccup stared, not even daring to blink. Gobber let out a small chuckle.

"Well, to be fair, I doubt the rest of the village would be just as believing as I am." Gobber said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Probably best we keep this to ourselves."

Hiccup finally shook himself free from his surprised stupor. "Wait, so what did Fishlegs tell you?"

"Basically what you just told me." Gobber said. "Though coming from him, I didn't really believe it myself at first, but I figured you might have been hiding something ever since you stuck up for the Fury."

Hiccup nodded, looking out the window and viewing the village.

"They're not gonna believe this, ever, are they?" Hiccup asked, his tone soft yet hoping he was wrong. Gobber's smirk disappeared.

"Hiccup, listen, we don't even know if that's your dad anym-"

Hiccup quickly turned to look at Gobber, looking exasperated.

"It IS him Gobber!" Hiccup cried, cutting off the older Viking. "He understood what I was saying and everything. He hasn't hurt anyone!"

Gibber raised an eyebrow, and opened his mouth, but Hiccup had already caught his mistake.

"I mean...besides Fishlegs...damn it..." he mumbled, feeling like crap.

The blacksmith sighed. "Like I was saying, we don't know how much of Stoick is in that dragon, or if it's him to begin with. We have to treat it like any other dragon, and so far, it's not looking good for it."

Hiccup gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. What Gobber was saying made sense, and that was what pissed him off the most. He wished he had just come out with the truth in the first place, instead of leading himself down into this mess he had gotten into. He didn't want to agree, he couldn't agree...but after what happened back in the holding cells...

Hiccup took a breath and relaxed, his fist uncurling. "Ok." he breathed in a defeated tone.

Gobber raised an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"I said, ok." Hiccup repeated, expression sour. "I just...I thought I could help him somehow but...ok."

The blacksmith stood there for a moment, eyeing Hiccup, looking unsure of what to reply.

"If you don't mind Gobber...I'd like some time to myself." Hiccup said after a moment of silence between them.

"Alright." Gobber said. "I suggest you keep your head down for awhile though. Village is still in a uproar over the dragon's escape, I don't think they'd like a reminder of who wanted it here in the first place."

Hiccup nodded, then turned towards the staircase to his room, walking slowly. Then he stopped. "Hey Gobber, would you mind keeping what we discussed between us?"

Gobber looked thoughtful for a moment, considering the question.

"Yes." he answered after a moment. "Hopefully Ingerman doesn't open his mouth too wide either after he recovers."

Hiccup's stomach did a turn at the reminder of Fishlegs, but he nodded and continued upstairs. Gobber watched him go, and for a second, he made as if to follow the boy, but then thought better of it and turned around, closing the door behind him.

…

Stoick had been walking for some time now, but he was aimless and could have been going in circles for all he knew. His hunger had only gotten worse during his pointless travel, and with it, that nagging feeling in the back of his head. The one that urged him to give in to something baser and less human. It was getting harder to ignore, and Stoick had no solution in mind at all to solve it. He needed food, and fast.

Hunger...

"I KNOW!" Stoick roared, completely out of patience with this other side of himself that wouldn't shut up. His attention was diverted however, when the tree directly in front of him exploded in a shower of blue flames. He stood there, frozen in shock at what had just happened.

Had he...had he just done that?

He raised a paw to his chest, and could feel his own heart racing, but he also felt something hot inside him, below his throat but above his heart. He hadn't noticed it before, but it was definitely there now. Looking back at the charred remains of the tree, Stoick couldn't help but grin.

Yes, he, Stoick the Vast, had just breathed fire. As terrifying as it was to realize that this would only make him more dangerous if a Viking came across him, it still filled the former man with a sense of pride to have done something in this new form of his. Wanting to try again, Stoick stood on all fours, stiffened his limbs, and then made to roar again, but this time he simply flexed his throat rather than make a sound.

Nothing happened.

Confused, Stoick adjusted his position lightly, took a deep breath, and did it again.

Still nothing.

"Damn it." Stoick muttered, but then he felt it. A sudden flare inside his throat that hadn't been there before. Or had it always been there?

Stoick bent his head down low and closed his eyes, trying to feel it again. He was missing something here, but then who could blame him? Until today, he had never been a dragon, and while he had learned some aspects of dragon anatomy when he was younger, if it wasn't on what could be torn off, he hadn't cared. It didn't help that as a Night Fury, there was no chance that there anyone alive who knew about this dragon's body.

Stoick grumbled. There had to be some kind of organ that produced the flame, or at least provided the fuel. For him though, it was just a matter of figuring out how.

He flexed his throat without any noise. There was nothing. Next, he flexed again, but this time with a low growl in the back. There it was again, that flare up in the back of his maw. It was right there, he just needed to set it off somehow. Perhaps the roar he had given out had been the catalyst for the fire. Digging his paws into the ground, Stoick bent his head down, took a deep breath, and prepared to roar again.

A primal screech echoed through the forest...and yet, Stoick hadn't made a sound. The flare inside his throat evaporated as he puzzled over where the sound had come from. It had sounded a little familiar as well...

Another screech sounded out, and Stoick tilted his head in the direction it had come from. It was far away, he could tell that, so much so that he was surprised he had heard it at all. Then again, he was a dragon now; his hearing must be much more sensitive than when he was human.

Curious about this new development, and needing another distraction from his growing hunger, Stoick stood up and began making his way towards the source of the sound. He swore he recognized it from somewhere...

…

Hiccup sighed as he opened the door to his room, staring ahead tiredly. After all the excitement of both last night and this morning, he was exhausted. He hadn't gotten any sleep since the night before the dragon raid, and he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten either. His body was running on fumes, and just walking to the bed was a chore. Sitting down, Hiccup placed his head in his hands, his mind still abuzz with that day's events and the conversation he had had with Gobber.

"Damn it..." he muttered, pulling off his boots and throwing them aside, before returning to rubbing his face. "Dad, why did you have to...ugh..."

A cold draft blew through the room, and Hiccup felt a shiver go up his spine. He looked up to see that the window was open, and huffed in annoyance before standing up and going over to shut it. Hiccup slammed the window shut, and then jumped as a loud squeal of surprise sounded from behind.

"What the-?!" Hiccup exclaimed, whipping around for the source. A tussle in his blankets appeared to be going on, and it was another moment before the same Terror from earlier poked it's head out, eyes locking onto his.

"Oh. It's you." Hiccup said, rolling his eyes. The Terror gave him a similar look and proceeded to dig back under the blankets, apparently having gotten comfortable in his absence.

"Stupid dragon." Hiccup said under his breath. On any other day, he might have tried to drive the dragon out of his room, but frankly, he couldn't be bothered. It didn't seem like it would attack him anyways, which was probably a testament to how little a threat the Terror considered him rather than how tame it was.

Taming a dragon...Hiccup chuckled to himself, thinking back on having thrown that idea on Fishlegs. He was surprised he had even come with it, it was so ridiculous. Not that he had really believed it could be done anyways...right?

Hiccup looked back over at the bundle of blankets that hid the Terror in his bed. The small dragon hadn't made to harm him at all, though he was curious as to why it followed him ever since he had met it back in the forest, back when his dad had first transformed into a Night Fury. No wait, hadn't it been there before his dad had transformed?

Hiccup's heart skipped a beat. He tried to remember what had happened exactly back in the forest. The Terror had come up, gotten on his dad's body, bitten him on the chin...

Hiccup stood up quickly and moved towards the blankets, fists clenched and teeth gritted. He took a breath, then grabbed the blankets and pulled them away, a great yelp reverberating through the room. The Terror hidden inside rolled out from underneath the sheets, having wrapped itself inside them and looking a little dizzy.

"Was it you?!" Hiccup yelled, looking beside himself with rage. The Terror was taken aback at the boy's sudden change in demeanor, from harmless young human to angry and looking ready to pounce. It whined and backed up towards the head of the bed, suddenly intimidated by the lanky human whose room it had occupied, its tail tucked between its legs.

Hiccup meanwhile, was still thinking a mile a minute. Of course! This Terror had to have been the cause of his dad's transformation. It had bitten his dad's chin and turned him into a Night Fury. The logic of it ran through Hiccup's head, and slowly but surely, he came to the conclusion...

...that made no sense at all.

Hiccup's anger deflated as quickly as it had blown up. With a heavy sigh, he looked down at the scared dragon, feeling a sudden pang of sympathy for it. It was stupid to think that a bite from a dragon could transform a person into a dragon. Who had ever heard of such a thing? Viking's got bitten and scratched by dragons, big and small, all the time, and if that was true, half the village would be dragons by now.

A small growl tore Hiccup from his thoughts, and he looked down to see the Terror no longer looking afraid, but annoyed.

"Oh...sorry about that." Hiccup couldn't help but say. "Um...yeah just thinking about a lot."

The Terror hissed at him, and Hiccup half expected the dragon to attack, but it instead leapt onto the blanket on the floor, gripping it with its teeth and dragging it under the bed. It kept its eyes on Hiccup the whole time, daring him to stop it.

"Um...sure, you can have it." Hiccup said awkwardly. It growled lowly, but nonetheless disappeared under his bed, leaving him alone to think. Hiccup took a breath and fell down onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering how desperate he had become for answers.

"Alright. Dad's a dragon, you got someone hurt, and the entire village wants your dad dead." Hiccup said to himself. A sarcastic chuckle escaped him. "Well, this day couldn't possibly get any worse."

Hiccup closed his eyes, and his body relaxed. He was tired, and whatever else he needed to do could wait until he at least got some sleep. Perhaps after this he would grab a meal from the dining hall...

...

The screeching had stopped, but the sound still echoed inside Stoick's head, ringing in his ears as he tried to place where it had come from. It appeared that the source of said sound was further than he had thought. It was strange, the way he picked up from so far away. Then again, he was a dragon now; Stoick chuckled darkly at the thought that being a Night Fury might come with some unexpected perks. He could hear better now...guess that was one benefit to this transformation.

Then he heard something else that gave him pause. It grew in volume with every step he took, and it wasn't long before he recognized it for what it was.

Water. Rushing water, as if from a waterfall. Stoick licked his lips instinctively, then increased his pace, walking on four limbs suddenly feeling much easier than before. Trees whizzed past him, a clearing appearing up ahead. Stoick rushed ahead, the thirst in his throat feeling like it was burning now from how close the ability to quench it must be. Only some boulders were the final obstacle between him and whatever was making that noise. With an almighty leap, Stoick cleared the rocks...

...and let out a screech as he found himself dropping like one into the cove below.

Author's Note: Reviews are welcome and appreciated. Sorry about the wait.