Chapter 19 : Taking Flight

-SwT-

The detonation of the "the big one," as Astrid had called it, rocked the island under every Vikings' feet, sending all but a few tumbling to the ground. Stoick, closer to the explosion than most (relatively speaking, still thousands of paces away,) was one of those many knocked off his or her feet. Shaking his head to clear it of the after effects, he brought himself to his hands and knees. Then the heat hit. In moments, the cool island air felt like the sweltering interior of a forge, in the summer, with all the ventilation blocked.

Stoick reached for his helmet, lifting it from the ground. Then he turned, facing the direction from which the blast had come. Impenetrable dust stood between him and anything else. Looking over his shoulder, he couldn't even see Gobber and Astrid where they'd been fleeing to the crowd of Vikings assembled further north. Stoick stumbled forward, toward the epicenter. With every step he took, the heat got worse, even with the natural dissipation of the air. Thor almighty, not even a dragon could have survived that blast.

He thought back, to just before the explosion. A speck had appeared in the clouds, leaving a tiny trail of smoke as it fell. Then the queen had appeared, in all Her terrifying glory. She dove after the speck, preparing to burn it when the speck had fired a plasma blast up inside Her. There had been mere moments between the queen's fire igniting and Her collision with the ground. Had the speck gotten away? He took a deep breath, coughing on the dust cloud. "Hiccup?" His voice was far too weak for his liking, and he took another, larger breath. "Hiccup?!"

The dust around him remained silent. Apart from his breathing, heartbeat, and stumbling, uncertain footsteps, no sound permeated the air. He continued to walk haltingly forward, stopping only when the heat itself kept him from continuing. He squinted ahead, looking for anything.

A dark shape loomed: the queen's massive, broken head. It was upside-down now, its wide, dead eyes and cracked scales scorched various shades of black. Charred material filled the slight gap between the left and right sides of the head. Stoick reached out toward it, but approaching any closer felt like walking unprotected into a bonfire. Shading his eyes, he searched the ground for any sign of his scaly son. He found nothing; the ground between him and the head was covered only by black-scorched gravel.

Feeling his way around the heat, Stoick picked a direction and kept walking. "Hiccup?!" he called out, "Son!"

He blinked, thinking his eyes were playing a trick on him when he saw it. Ahead, propped up motionless against a rock, a Night Fury lay. "Hiccup!"

He ran forward, grateful as the heat lessened with his approach. He fell to his knees a dozen paces away. Only one. There's only one there, and it has only one tailfin! No! Why did it have to be this one?

The Night Fury that lay before him had only one tailfin. Its wings were bent at awful angles, as if trying to protect its underside from a crash, possibly broken.

What, is this some kind of test? After everything I've been through - my son's been through - the Gods put before me the evidence of all my mistakes?

He bowed his head, ignoring his helmet as it slipped to the ground. Behind him he heard footsteps quickly approaching, slowing to a stop as they saw the scene.

"I did this," Stoick whispered, "I did this… I..." I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye, to say sorry… I had no chance to admit I was so, so wrong - about everything.

The dragon drew a shuddering breath. Lifting its head slightly, it took another. Slowly, it opened its eyes. Stoick locked eyes with it, seeing the pain and exhaustion contained within its orbs. It had his son's irises, the same shade as both before and after his son became a dragon.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Stoick added, still at a whisper.

The Night Fury surveyed him a moment longer, then, with what looked like monumental effort, dragged open its wings. Its shoulders were bloody, claw marks raking from its upper limbs to its back. Tangled in its legs, though, lay something that restored Stoick's hope in the world: A smaller Night Fury. It was battered, burned, bloodied, but with two tailfins on a tail wrapped around the larger's hind legs.

Stoick ran forward, unconcerned with startling the larger dragon. There was only one dragon... person... the smaller could be. Falling to his knees next to the Night Furies now, Stoick lifted the smaller by the base of the neck from the grasp of the larger. Under his hands, Stoick felt his son's scaly chest expand.

"He's alive! You brought him back alive!"

Unbeknownst to Stoick, a crowd of Vikings had been gathering behind him. Hearing his exclamation, they burst into applause, cheering on the survival of their saviors. Gobber's limping gait approached from just behind and the smith lay a supportive hand on Stoick's shoulder. "He doesn' look too good, though. Jus' take a look a' tha-"

A squeaking, terrified shout echoed down from the sky. "Chief! Gobber! Don't! That's Hiccup! He came to negotiate peace!"

Gobber and Stoick looked up. Gobber commented on the odd sight. "Huh, was wonderin' when the las' of our trainin' dragons would show up."

Astrid spoke up from further behind, on the edge of the crowd. "Fishlegs, Hiccup just killed the queen! Stoick isn't hurting him, he's helping!"

Fluttering to an awkward, bouncy landing near the crowd of Vikings, Fishlegs looked embarrassed. "Oh. I mean… Sorry. Right. I'll just… OkayByeNow."

Stoick held his son tightly to his chest, letting his emotions overwhelm him. An actual tear slipped out of his eye, landing on his son's scales.

Gobber cut in, "Look, Stoick, I don't wan' to ruin the moment or anything, but I really think tha' wing needs lookin' at."

Stoick pulled back, looking at both his son and his son's savior. With its - his - wings unfurled, the larger Night Fury seemed relatively uninjured. However, the right side of his underbelly had a lot of blood running down it, that appeared to come from nowhere. Looking down at Hiccup, Stoick found the source. His son's right wing joint had a large gash in it, going concerningly deep.

The larger Night Fury noticed the gash too and crooned while waving his forelegs in a crude imitation of human gesturing. Gobber commented, unnecessarily, "I think your son's scaly friend wants your son back."

Reverently, Stoick placed his son back into the larger Night Fury's outstretched limbs. The dragon pulled Stoick's son close to his head, then began licking the wound.

"HEY-" Stoick bellowed, clambering to his feet and preparing to beat the Night Fury off. He was stopped by a small pair of hands with grips of iron latching onto his arm.

"Don't, Stoick," Astrid said.

"That dragon's going to get my son's wound infected!" Stoick shouted.

"Chief, Hiccup trusts that dragon with his life, and I trust your son."

Astrid let go of Stoick's arm, but the words she'd said left a much heavier deterrent behind. Trusts that dragon with his life… He hadn't known. It only went to show how much he didn't know about his own offspring, even after everything that happened.

Stoick deflated, letting both arms drop. Murmurs broke out in the crowd of villagers. "Ah, Stoick," Gobber said, "you might want to help with this."

Stoick stood, turning to the crowd of Vikings. To his surprise, he found a large number around the edges had drawn their weapons, with more arming themselves by the moment. The cause: a Monstrous Nightmare and Deadly Nadder approaching along the beach.

A commotion broke out near the center of the group. Stoick spotted his brother and his nephew in the middle of it. "Stay back here! It isn't safe-" Spitelout began.

"Let go of me, dad!" Snotlout shouted, pulling free of his father's grip. As soon as he was away, he began shoving his way through the crowd of Vikings, toward the approaching dragons. Astrid began pushing her way through as well. The two of them, with differing levels of experience at pushing people out of their way, arrived at the edge of the crowd at the same time. The Nightmare startled backward, the Nadder held its ground. "Woah, big… hook-fanged dragon. Just calm down, okay?"

The dragon whimpered, and Snotlout held out his hands. Slowly, the dragon leaned out and put its head into Snotlout's hands.

"See? It'll be okay Hookfang," Snotlout said, scratching his dragon's snout. To Stoick's surprise, the dragon actually started purring.

Meanwhile, Astrid's Nadder went back to her almost immediately, the two reuniting like old friends. "It's good to see you too girl. You didn't get too hurt from the fall, right?"

The crowd of Vikings couldn't contain itself anymore. A few villagers broke into angry shouting, the rest talking animatedly. Fishlegs and his Gronckle shrunk back from the crowd, edging toward Hiccup and his Night Fury.

"Chief! What's going on here?!"
"These teenagers are friends with dragons? World's gone mad!"
"How are we gonna get home now?"
"That monstrous dragon burned every one of our boats!"
"What are we gonna do now, chief?"

Stoick shook his head. "QUIET!" he roared. The crowd went silent. "I don't know everything that's happened here. From what I understand, though, that dragon-" Stoick gestured at the corpse of the queen, now visible through the dissipating dust cloud, "-was… controlling the others, forcing them to raid us."

"That's exactly it!" Astrid shouted over the crowd, "It's like bees in a beehive: that was their queen. They didn't have a choice but to follow her orders!"

"Dragons don't want to fight us," Fishlegs added, rubbing his Gronckle's back, "They can be really great friends, see?"

"If they had no choice," a random Viking piped up, "why'd the teenager's dragons listen to them, instead?"

"Hiccup blocked the queen's power, somehow. He almost got pulled in himself, though…" Astrid answered.

"None o' this answers my question!" A Viking shouted, pushing to the front. Mulch emerged, looking far worse for wear than he had before this expedition. His beard was singed, his prosthetic hand slightly melted. "Tha' was our whole fleet o'er there! We've no ships ta get home!"

Stoick frowned. That was indeed a problem, one he didn't have an answer for. He ran through the possibilities, but couldn't find anything viable.

"Dragon riders, coming through!" a voice shouted from the clouds. Many Vikings ducked as a Zippleback shot overhead, landing behind Hiccup and the Night Fury.
"That one again? Ugh, you're so unoriginal," the voice's twin sister complained.
"Fine, maybe I'll say… Fat sister coming through!" Tuffnut shoved at his sister, and the two began fighting atop the Zippleback's necks. The Zippleback heads actually rolled their eyes and dropped to the ground, apparently too tired to engage in the twins' antics.

"Tuffnut! Ruffnut! We're trying to have a serious discussion here!" Stoick roared, bringing their fight to a standstill.

"A serious discussion?" Ruffnut asked.
"We love serious discussions!"
"That's what got us in this mess in the first place!"
"That's why they're so cool!"

They turned their full attention to Stoick, actually remaining quiet for once. Stoick sighed and turned back to Mulch and the other Vikings. "You're right, we have no ships. We'll have to search the island, look for anything that can float-"

"No boats?" Tuff asked.
"There are plenty of boats!" Ruff said.

The Vikings stared at the two of them.

"What, didn't you guys see all those wrecks out in the sea stacks?"
"There were, like five Berk ships and at least one or two from the Berserkers."
"And that was with like five minutes of flying!"

"Berserker ships?" Stoick asked. "Was there anyone aboard?"

The twins shared a look.
"Nope."
"Nobody."
"The ships were pretty old-"
"-like really, really old-"
"-and split in half."

Mulch shook his head. "Half a ship is hardly any good for sailin'."

"It's better than no ship." Stoick looked over the back of the crowd. "Astrid, can you teens and the dragons bring us pieces of ships?"

Astrid looked to her Nadder, then to Snotlout's Nightmare. "We can try."

Stoick turned back to the milling crowd of Vikings. "Men, set up camp here as best you can. Treat any wounded and don't harm any dragons unless they attack first."

"Don't harm dragons?!"
"This is an outrage!"
"We should kill all the dragons now!"
"Attack while they're weak!"

"NO!" Stoick bellowed, stilling the Vikings. "There's been enough death here. This war ends today. Do not harm a dragon unless it attacks first. Spitelout, I want a headcount, find out who we've lost. Gobber, start collecting tools, we're going to need to rebuild the ships that the teens bring in."

"Aye Stoick."

"Aye Stoic'."

The Vikings jumped in surprise as air washed over them. Astrid and her Nadder took off, followed immediately by the twins on their Zippleback.

This war ends today. Stoick watched the dragons disappear into the sea stacks. You were right Val, there was another way. I was almost too blind to see it.

-SwT-

I lay on the surface of the humans' floating pile of logs, clutching Sapling to my chest. Since the red-furred alpha had returned him to me, I hadn't let go of him. When the humans put us onto this logpile, even then I held tightly. They ended up moving us both, together. My saliva had helped his blood to dry in the wound, sealing it, but Sapling had not stirred. I was almost starting to become concerned. Almost. I wasn't, though. He was going to pull through. He had to.

The surface of trees beneath me rocked as it passed over a wave. The red-furred alpha standing next to me stumbled, holding the side of the construction for support.

We did it. She was dead, for good. Even better, the yellow-furred female that had attacked us that one night seemed to have changed opinions, doing her best to protect the small humans' dragons from the adult humans. Both she and her Preenscale rode along on the same floating structure as we did.

The Preenscale cocked her head at me. Shadowscale, how is the smaller Shadowscale?

I growled, the sound clearly exasperation, exhaustion, and frustration, rather than aggression. No change. Still asleep.

She ruffled her crown of horns, picking up on my concern. Her human placed a paw on her snout, comforting her. The surface of trees rocked over another wave. He won't be able to use that wing, even after it heals.

I growled again, this time, more aggressively. I know.

The Preenscale rustled her horns again, then nudged her human's shoulder. The yellow-furred human looked back, just in time to get pulled to the ground by her dragon. The Preenscale snuggled around her, and the human awkwardly patted the dragon with a forepaw.

We did it. She was dead, we were alive, and the war with the humans was over.

Just come back to me now, Sapling.

-SwT-

Treewad Weedborn sat in his chair, staring out to sea. It was hopeless. Almost a week had passed since the chief set sail with nearly the whole population of the village and not a single plank of wood had drifted its sorry way back. They were dead, every one of 'em. Had to be. He never should've let them go, he should've used his influence…

Bah, what influence? He was the last member of his family and nobody cared what a Weedborn had to say these days. Back in his day, his family had mattered! Protected the food stores with sword and shield! Now…

He sighed, deflating in his chair. He should've gone with them. Dying attacking the nest, even if he didn't really contribute anything, would surely be a glorious enough death to enter the halls of Valhalla. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He could imagine it now…

After a moment he cracked one eye open, just to check that he hadn't actually gone to Valhalla in his daydreaming. Then he blinked hard. Impossible!

Slowly, he levered himself out of his chair. Days of inactivity had taken their toll on him, but he persevered. With stumbling steps, he made his way outside to confirm what his eyes had just told him.

Indeed, ships were approaching on the horizon, flying tattered and burnt Berkian sails.

"The chief is returning…" he whispered. Cursing his old voice, he tried again, "The chief is returning!"

Treewad hobbled his way down from the village, into the harbor. His age and exhaustion slowed him, but he reached the docks before the ships did. Only one other figure stood on the wooden planks with him: elder Gothi.

"Elder Gothi! Did they succeed?" Treewad asked, "Are the dragons finally dead?"

With her staff, the elder began scratching in the dock. She drew two numerals, the number "one" and the number "two." Pointing at the first, she nodded. Pointing at the second, she shook her head.

Treewad looked between her and the approaching ships. It took him a while to connect the dots and to figure out that the numerals referred to the order in which he'd asked his questions. "How in Hel's name could they succeed if the dragons aren't dead?"

The first ship slid into the docks, drifting slowly into the berth closest to him and the elder. At the bow stood Stoick the Vast, dirtied and tired, but standing on his own two feet. By his feet…

"Two Night Furies?" Behind him on the ship sat a third dragon. "A Deadly Nadder?! Chief Stoick! What is the meaning of-"

Elder Gothi whacked Treewad over the head with her staff, sending him stumbling with her surprising strength. Stoick looked down at the diminutive elder in surprise and she peered back. She nodded at the battered chief, then turned and began to hobble back up the slope from the docks.

Treewad sat on the ground, stunned by the elder's blow, as Stoick began giving out orders to the other incoming ships. "Unload the fish! I don't want the dragons following us sinking the remains of our fleet to get at them."

"Where do we put 'em Stoick?" asked the village smith from the next ship over.

Astrid Hofferson untangled herself from the Nadder's lap to add her opinion. "If we dump fish off in the torch towers, the dragons will perch on those instead of our houses."

"Good thinking, lass," Stoick complimented. "You heard Astrid! Get baskets off the docks, carry the fish up to the torch towers!"

Treewad sat in stunned silence as the boats rolled in, a crowd of over two hundred dragons - maybe over four hundred - trailing behind in the sky for a whole league.

World's gone mad…

-SwT-

Sapling, are you ever waking up?

I didn't move. I was still so tired. It felt like all I could do was sleep. The voice, whoever it was, chuffed. I heard the scrape of scales on wood as he or she walked away, then the creak of old hinges. Really old hinges.

An indeterminate period of time later, after the creaking door had swung open and shut a few times more, it opened again, followed by the scrape of scales. The sound stopped next to me, then was replaced by a much stranger sound, like laughing mixed with choking. Immediately after, there was a wet splat as something slimy hit the floor, a few droplets splattering my face. Sapling, I brought fish. You haven't eaten in fourteen days now - since you were human. If you don't eat something I really will force feed you.

I drew in a long breath through my nostrils. That fish smelled delicious, nearly unimaginably so. With lethargy born of both exhaustion and a grudging dislike of the discomfort the movement brought, I rolled off my left side and lapped up one of the fish - fish halves, I quickly discovered - my eyes still closed.

Sapling?! Are you awake?

No, I hummed, holding my eyes shut. A wet tongue ran up my forehead. Agh! No! Fine, I'm awake. I lifted my head and opened my eyes expecting… I don't know what I was expecting, but what I found was certainly odd. Toothless? We're in a house? Where are we?

Sapling! You're awake! Thank the skies we fly through! Unable to contain his excitement, Toothless bounded around the low-ceilinged house, overturning bowls of herbs and bottles of various colored liquids.

Toothless! Toothless! Calm down bud! The damage was already done, though, bowls and bottles toppled to the floor, spilling their contents every which way. I gave a long-suffering sigh. Carefully, I stood up on my own four feet, looking at the pile of fish I had just eaten from. Toothless, tell me you didn't just cough these fish up.

Toothless looked sheepish. I know it's sort of acting like you're immature, but it was easier than carrying them.

I looked down at the half-eaten pile of literally half-eaten fish, disgust filling my mind. My stomach had other ideas. Reluctantly, revolted by my own body's tastes, I slurped up and swallowed another raw, half-eaten, saliva-covered fish half. It was delicious. Ookay, that's disgusting.

If it didn't preserve well I could go get one of the humans' containers filled with fish, I mean-

No, it was fine, I'm just- Humans don't eat each other's half digested food. Ever.

I… I hadn't thought of that. Toothless ducked his head.

Shivering at the reminder of my own changes, I shook my head. Just forget about it. Where are we? Does my dad know you're here? I began walking past the remaining fish, toward the door.

Sapling, maybe you should take things slow. That-

I pulled open the ancient wooden door with my chin, immediately regretting the action. Outside, a Flamescale flapped to a stop, looking at the door. SAPLING?! it… he roared. I pulled my head out of the way, shoving the rickety door shut with my shoulder.

Agh! I cried out as my shoulder burst into pain.

I told you to take this slow! Toothless complained, reaching me in a single bound in the confined space and dragging me away from the door with his gums on my tail.

What was- What happened to… I trailed off when I spotted the damage. Just behind my right forelimb's shoulder, across the right wing joint, a pile of white colored poultices signified something bad. Strangely, around the wingtip, there were also a few strange holes that were slowly healing. I tried to extend my wing out, but couldn't. I craned my head, looking even farther back, and found my right wing was tied against my body with a rope. I could barely even strain the rope with my wing, the muscles either not responding or… or not there.

When you impacted with a spine on Her tail, an existing injury to your right wing joint tore open. Toothless looked away, embarrassed and apologetic. If I hadn't ducked at the last moment, it would've hit me instead. Then you were falling toward Her fire and the only thing I could reach was that same wing and I-

Toothless… I thought back to the incident, trying to remember what had happened. There was me flying with the other dragons, then me racing to Her call, not in full control of my own mind. After that, I dove into the water after the drowning Toothless, then Toothless and I were flying against Her in the clouds, then we took that harrowing dive, then I had gone rigid and… Toothless, that wasn't your fault. I sat back on my haunches. Gods, I couldn't fight Her even as She died. I nearly got you- us killed!

That gash might heal over, but you're never going to fly on your own again.

I don't care about flying. Toothless, you're the only friend I've ever had. If I'd hurt you…

You didn't. I got out just fine. He ducked his head again, once more embarrassed.

I blinked. So you don't blame me for anything?

Blame you? Sapling, I blame myself.

I thrummed with barely stifled laughter and he looked up, hurt. Oh, Toothless! I'm sorry, we're both just… It's silly. We're each blaming ourselves, afraid of the other's reaction.

But you didn't do anything wrong! I just-

Toothless, stop. Don't blame yourself for anything.

I… Okay. He didn't look any happier, though.

Stay here, I'm going to find out what's going on outside. Turning back to the creaky door, I grabbed the handle with my gums and pulled it open. (It tasted surprisingly not that bad as if someone had washed it off with buckets of rosemary.) Outside, I saw ocean and sky, extending until they met at the horizon. Slowly I walked to the edge of the wooden platform set before the old cabin.

Berk was completely different. Dragons of all colors sat perched on every structure, not quite taking up all available space, but putting quite a dent in the visibility of the roofs. The torch towers were aglow, not with fire but instead with sunlight reflected off the scales of mounds of fish. I stood above it all on the edge of elder Gothi's patio.

Footsteps approached from behind and I turned to locate their source. It was my dad huffing up the last few steps of Gothi's trail. As he reached the top, Astrid and her Preenscale landed behind him, followed by Snotlout on his Flamescale. Stoick stopped a moment to catch his breath.

"Am I theah, thah? Iff sso, iss thiss your Hel or my Fallhalla? Or thih Hel hersself think I messseh uf sso fathly thah she mathe a realm off Helheim ffor me thoh life haffily in?"

My dad gave a hearty chuckle, stepping up beside me to look down over the village. "You're not dead, son, but you gave it your best shot."

Astrid dismounted from her Preenscale and walked over. "You did it Hiccup. The dragons have been living here for two days now and neither side has killed anyone."

"I thake ih you thon'h finh feing ffrienthss with a thraghon unnathural now?" I commented.

Astrid glanced back at her Nadder, then hung her head. "I have to admit, Stormfly is a pretty… nice. Friend."

"Ssthormffly? Thah ssounthss like ith hass a ssthory fehinh ih."

She shook her head. "It's stupid. Just a comment I made after you flew off under the queen's mind control."

I wanted to ask her what the comment was, but another figure came huffing up the path. Gobber ducked under Snotlout's Flamescale's neck, then stopped to take a long breath. "Why. Does Gothi. Live. So high up?" he asked, pausing for breath several times mid sentence. He took a deeper breath, held it, then released it, returning to more normal breathing. "Hiccup, I suppose you've noticed tha' wing by now."

"Kintha harh noh thoh."

Gobber scratched behind his ear with his hook prosthetic. "I tried to come up with some kinda spring prosthetic ta fix it, but I wasn't really sure how badly it'd be impaired given the injury, an' the bein' a dragon n' all…"

"Ith'ss fine hoff- ghopher."

Snotlout dismounted his own dragon, coming over more nervously. "Look, uhh, Hiccup. I just wanted to…" He trailed off, and I cocked my head at him, waiting. "I'm sorry. Okay? I don't think I ever said that. It's all my fault you ended up all dragoney and on Outcast Island and I- I'm sorry."

I hadn't expected this apology from Snotlout, and it took me off guard. "I… uhh… Thankss, Ssnothlouth."

"That's the only time I'm saying it, though!" he declared. I shook my head. That was the Snotlout I expected.

"Well Hiccup, you've changed Berk for the better," Stoick commented, looking down at all the dragons perched in the village. "Turns out all we needed was a little bit of-"

"Thrusth," I filled in. He trailed off like he had been going to use a different word, then shrugged.

A crash came from inside Gothi's hut as something was knocked over. The Flamescale behind us growled, then took flight off the path. "Hookfang! Where are you going?!" Snotlout shouted after him, running off down the path. Toothless leaped out the hut's door.

Toothless! You scared off the Flamescale!

Sorry. Got tired of waiting.

Stoick chuckled as Toothless and I shared draconic growls and chirps. "Then there's that."

Toothless bounded over, pushing in between me and my dad. He rubbed his head against mine, purring. You're acting like you haven't seen me in days, bud.

He stopped, turning to give me a look. Says the person who's been unconscious for a half dozen days and who barely ate anything when he woke up.

Oh, what, is it always going to be like-

Gobber cut in. "No' tha' I'm not havin' a lot of fun watchin' all the family and friendship reunions, I did kinda come all the way up here to check on tha' wing of yours."

I sighed, switching to Norse. Toothless ducked his head as if he'd been about to do something but stopped. "Fine, fine. Ssorry my recofery ghoh in the way off your fussy thay ghoffer."

"Fussy? Now who're you callin'-"

"F- Bf- Bussy. Fuzshy." I growled in exasperation. "Thiss mouth iss useless ssomethimess."

Gobber untied the rope around my wing. Almost immediately my wing dropped to the ground, limp. Toothless looked crestfallen.

I could see the whole thing now. The poultices led from just behind my neck all the way to just past my wing joint. On the end of my wing, a semicircle of tiny holes indicated someone had bit my wing. I knew who, and why. He was looking very sad right now, very upset that this injury had happened under his care. It wasn't your fault, Toothless.

"Try an' lift it." the smith instructed. I did as asked, wincing as, to my utter surprise, nothing happened. Gobber took the edge of my wing in hand and lifted it himself, to twice my height. "Okay, now try pullin' it downwa-" I flapped down with full strength, accidentally slapping him in the face with the wingtip. When the wing flopped onto the ground, it lay there - I couldn't pick it back up.

Another set of footsteps approached, up the path. Careful not to step on my own wing, I turned slightly to look. Elder Gothi emerged from the head of her path, limping toward the group assembled on her patio.

"Gothi! We were just checking Hiccup's-" Gobber began. The elder thwacked him over the forehead with her staff, then began scratching in the dirt. "Fine, fine. You could just start writing before you go hittin' me with that stick o' yours." He bent down over the seemingly meaningless jumble. "Okay, Gothi wants the black Nadder-" She thwacked him again. "-Agh! I mean, the Night Fury with a funny ear-" Thwack. "-Agh! Wing! Damaged wing to sell herbs." Thwack "She means do the opposite of what she does. Right?" Gothi tapped above one of her scribbled symbols. "Aha! Gothi wants Hiccup to rotate his wing the opposite direction she does. Bu', hold on, we just did tha'-"

Elder Gothi shoved Gobber out of the way, limping over to my wing. Dropping her staff, she lifted the leading edge of my wing over her head. Carefully, I pushed the leading edge down while leaving the trailing edge up. She frowned, lifting up the trailing edge instead. I strained against her but found that only pulling down the leading edge made the wing descend. She let my wing fall, then kneeled on top of the leading edge. I tried as hard as I could to lift it but was rewarded with absolutely nothing. She grabbed her staff, using it to rise unsteadily to her feet.

She took a step over to Gobber, who was nursing his head, and scribbled out something else. "She says Hiccup can glide on his own, but his falling will be imposs-" Gothi stabbed her staff at Gobber's good foot. "-Oi! Flapping will be impossible. However, he has a friend who can eat his carcass?" Gothi whacked Gobber's shins. "Agh! Fly beneath him? Is tha' it?" I thought I saw Elder Gothi roll her eyes. "Oh, how was I supposed to figure tha' out from a dragon drawn inside another dragon?!" Gothi scribbled a few more lines. "From context?! Wha' context?!"

What are they all saying? I think I heard a lot of human-speak for flying... Toothless asked.

I chuffed in annoyance at their antics over something Toothless had already guessed. They're just confirming what you already knew; I can't fly on this wing anymore.

Toothless hung his head. I guess that-

Stop. Really bud, It wasn't your fault.

He avoided my gaze. I'm sorry anyway.

The Preenscale - Astrid had called her Stormfly - screeched wordlessly, drawing everyone's attention. She continued in dragon-speak. Would you all just stop, already? It's obvious larger Shadowscale has more than enough wingspan to lift both himself and Sapling. If you use Sapling's tail and larger Shadowscale's wings, then they can both fly!

Everyone stared at her, the humans in shock and confusion, Toothless and myself in dawning recognition. That would work.

Stormfly walked over to her human, nudging Astrid in the back. Come on. Let's go flying again already!

Astrid looked at me. "What is this about, Hiccup?"

I hung my head. Translating between dragons and humans was going to be a long, full-time job. "Sshe really wanthss thoh gho fflying."

Astrid scratched Stormfly's nose. "Sure thing girl." She swung onto her Nadder's back and the two of them took off down the mountainside.

I turned to my dad. "Can I gho whith them?"

Stoick glanced over at Gothi and Gobber. Gothi nodded, Gobber tried to guard every part of his body from Gothi's staff. My dad turned back to me. "How do you plan to-"

Toothless, we're going flying!

What, we're going now?

I could glide on my own, Gothi said that, so without further warning I leaped over the side of the platform. Toothless roared in alarm, jumping after me. We fell next to one another, the village growing larger beneath us. At the last moment I swerved atop him, settling onto his back and steering us out of the dive. His wings snapped open, mine following by force of his' kinetic energy, and we shot over the village's houses at high speed. Left and right, dragons cheered our passing in all manner of voices, their roars startling the Vikings below.

We did it.

-SwT-

Septemb- yeah, September 7th, year of Odin's insane reign 1009

Look at you, Outcast Island journal! I found you! What were you doing sitting out there by the sea cliffs on that house's roof?

Writing in you is way less fun than it used to be. Apparently, claws and nearly not-opposable-thumbs will do that. Also, the lack of a pencil. If I'm going to keep writing journal entries, I should get another one. Maybe a new journal, too.

Anyway, after flying around until the sun went down, I spotted this journal. Toothless grabbed it, I got some charcoal out of a fire, and… Journaling!

We killed the dragons' queen, the massive evil dragon that forced all the other dragons to raid. Also, dragons have moved in on Berk. Not every Viking likes the sudden reversal in policy, but Astrid, Toothless, and I are trying to smooth things over. The torch towers are feeding bowls now. How cool is that?

Oh, raw fish tastes good. Really good. Why didn't I try any when I was a human? Whoever reads this, if anyone, if I'm still alive and you're a human, try some raw fish and tell me how it tastes to you. I'm really curious if it's always tasted this good. Actually, have any other tastes changed? I should try bread. Maybe if Johann comes by I'll buy some cheese. (Berk cheese has always been pretty awful. If dragon tastes are heightened, I do not want to find out what Berkian cheese tastes like.)

Anyway, for right now I'm not even going to try art. Writing is hard enough. I just hope eventually I find some way…

Then Toothless wouldn't be able to fly. I couldn't take that from him, not after all this. Maybe-

It doesn't matter. I have to find a way to go back before I worry about what'll happen if I do.

Also, something odd is up with Toothless. Today there were a couple moments where he looked like he wanted to say or do something, then stopped. I don't get it. I'll have to ask him about it later.

Finally, Snotlout's Flamescale - I've now learned Snot' named him "Hookfang" (poor dragon) - is avoiding me again. He avoids Toothless too, him even more than me. I have no clue what that's all about, other than the thing Stormfly mentioned when we were flying to Her nest. That's silly, though. Toothless clearly doesn't think of me as a pet. He was so upset at having hurt me to save me, clearly it can't be that. It has to be the other thing, where-

How would that even- no, so not thinking about that anymore.

Actually, I don't think I'll put any more of that down in Norse. Since the burning sensation that filled my head after I became a dragon that gave me dragon-ey instincts didn't give me any written language, there probably isn't one - for dragons. In that case… darn. I guess that creepy thought will have to live in my head.

Ew.

On that note, goodnight journal. I'm going to leave you in the great hall rafters somewhere, hopefully, someplace even the twins can't reach.

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third,Night Fury

P.S. That signature looks terrible.

P.P.S. Should I add a note to point out that I'm not human anymore? Like on my signature? If I do, should I change my initials? Maybe even drop the Haddock name? (Dad wouldn't like that.)

Screw it, I'll just append "Night Fury" to it. Should be straightforward enough. Just HHHIIINF

That is way too long.

-SwT-

A/N:

It's over! :(

There we go, the complete HTTYD1 arc. Stuff happened, Hiccup and Toothless have it even, etcetera.

I will need to do some of the animated series. Alvin is still an open question, certain cut characters need to reveal their new locations, I need to save Dagur…

I also need to make Hiccup and Toothless hook up. That was only the singular reason I started this AU. No biggie.

All that will have to happen later. At this point, I am officially out of written material! My writing speed is, at best, 4k words per day. That's if I'm in the mood and know where the characters are all going. With chapter lengths of 4-8k words, this writing schedule will fail.

… not to mention I have to move into college.

So! Prepare for a great hiatus! And for those of you just here for the HTTYD1 arc: Thanks for reading! I hope you had a great time within the insanity of my crazy plots!

=Anonymous Replies=

Secret (chap 17):

Permission denied. He's my crazy Hiccup. :(

I'm joking, ofc. I hope you had a lot of fun with this story. See you around whenever I write a sequel!

Fang:

Thanks. See you around!

-SwT-

Coming up next:

# Siding with Them: Torn Wingbeats - the animated series between HTTYD1 and HTTYD2. This will have the core of my romantic Toothcup courtship.

# A Siding with Them HTTYD2 arc - No title yet, barely any content either. All the madness from SwT, now with Drago Bludvist, Valka Haddock, and FOUR alpha dragons. Four. May reference the Toothcup Mating but it won't be sappy or focused upon, though it might be plot relevant.