Stormfall, Part Twenty-One

A roar wakes Toothless from his drowsing, but he does not leap and startle at it. They are home and safe, he knows deep inside where his heart is warm against his fires, and the nest is full of roaring always. Instead he flicks his ear-flaps back and grumbles unhappy don't-like no no no stupid don't-want stupid loud no. He sighs and hides his nose and eyes under a foreleg, shifting in their nest to coil just a bit more tightly around Hiccup-beloved-one who is still sleeping at his side.

Stupid! Toothless snorts from under his paw. The caves that are their home have never been entirely quiet. Dragons are loud, calling to each other and quarreling and playing together and singing to themselves and their hatchlings and their friends. But there are so many new flock-mates now, and there is snarling and roaring and screaming and yowling always.

The argument that woke him is only the closest to their nest. There is a scent of fish in the air that Toothless can smell even though his paw is on his nose, and he can hear that many of the New Ones are fighting each other over it, each snatching and snapping for the food.

It smells good. Toothless rumbles deep inside, but small movements against his side silence him and hold him still.

Hiccup stirs but does not wake, and his claws scratch against Toothless' outstretched wing. He has claws always now, and he sleeps only lightly, mewling as if hunted and afraid in dreams. He wakes often with soft cries, burrowing against Toothless' scales as if trying to dig into the bigger dragon's body like a cave before falling again into restless sleep.

To have him close again, always and always and never again to be far away and taken, is a rightness so great Toothless has no sounds for it. It is as right as the heat of heart-fires. When they were torn apart those fires inside went out drowned and frozen, and Toothless tasted death like emptiness and sickness and the cold that kills. Toothless tastes life now in the scent that is both of them and the soft breaths and warmth against his side.

They will never be apart again, Toothless declares in the bone-deep purr that rumbles through them both.

A scream of mine mine no you go-away this mine! shatters their just-for-them peace, and Toothless bares his fangs at the quarreling dragons in the half-darkness of the cave. They should let his Hiccup-beloved sleep!

But further away there are other arguments breaking out. Toothless recognizes the voice of Sun Chaser as she yowls a protest, her claws scratching against stone. She yelps no no no this mine yes this mine here no you go go-away go now! She does not want to move from her perching place. All around her, others join in, objecting to being pushed away, and angry voices answer them until someone snarls fight! and Toothless hears paws striking against scales.

The sounds of the nest are sullen and unhappy as they are in the darkest endless nights of worst and coldest winter. Sometimes then there is no more sleeping left to do, but there is nowhere to fly and nothing to eat and nowhere to go that does not already have another dragon resting in it. Then every sound seems a challenge, and every flock-mate a rival for the not-enough food that can be found. Even when winter-storms that freeze and kill roar around the outside of the nest and thrash and tear at the ocean, the dragons of the nest long sometimes to run and fly, but there is nowhere to go and the bitter winter traps them.

There is very much sleeping in winter, because waking becomes pacing and yowling and fights over nothing at all if there are no games to play and if the sharp blinding snows that bury the open spaces of the meadow and close up the tunnels out of the caves do not end.

It is not winter yet, but inside it is like those worst winters now.

Down! a voice Toothless does not know snarls, and when the black dragon tracks the sounds he sees a New One with scars across his scales stomping his paws, spreading his wings and making himself big to loom over Chases Birds, who coils herself to spring and hisses defiance! back with all her legs braced.

They stare each other down until the New One decides that she is not worth fighting with, turning away with disdain and sulking and shivers of want-to-pounce in his body, kicking back at her as if there was dirt beneath his paws to toss up. Snorting, he takes off and flies away, out of the caves, but flying quickly as if he means to go very far. Victorious but unhappy, Chases Birds lashes her tail and warbles outrage, scratching at the rock beneath her uneasily.

Dragons cannot count. But Toothless knows deep within, as he listens to and scents for and watches his family's home, that there are too many dragons in the nest now. Hunger bites at him where he is empty inside. Everywhere in the nest that is good to fish from has been stalked across and pounced at and dug through and dived for. Toothless has heard many flock-mates returning from hunting with their voices grumbling like stomachs, so it must be so beyond the nest as well. Every perch seems crowded, and even he and Hiccup have had to hiss and snarl and raise their claws and show their fangs to defend their own home-nest behind the stone teeth that is theirs alone, that has always been theirs!

The smallest of signals catches his attention, and Toothless forgets about everything else. Against his side, Hiccup makes no sound. He does not stretch and chirp with waking-up sounds, or rub his scales against Toothless' own to share their scents and pet and scratch and reassure. But they are part of each other – they are together-always, they are two-who-are-one – and Toothless can sense that the other half of himself is awake too.

You? Toothless chirrs, raising his wing slightly and turning to look. He purrs happy me happy yes yes good love-you up up you here yes good, shaking with the relief that strikes at him, to know that Hiccup will be there. Now that Hiccup is awake maybe now they can fly away to the open air outside and away from the arguing and squabbling all around! Maybe today everything will be as it should be again!

Hiccup yawns, splaying his claws out, and then settles again at Toothless' side. He reaches out to scratch lightly at the bigger dragon's jaw, but makes no attempt to get up.

C'mon, Toothless urges him, snatching at the outstretched paw and tugging gently. C'mon c'mon c'mon…

They have so many things to do, and Hiccup will do none of them! Toothless does not understand.

His scales itch with the absence of the flying-with harness he has worn for so long, and no scratching against stone or pawing at them or even the touch of Hiccup's paws will make his scales stop twitching and searching for it. It had never been unwelcome; he rejoiced at wearing it. It was part of him. It was part of them. But it tore and broke and fell away, and Toothless cannot make it be again alone. His paws are not clever the way Hiccup's are; he cannot tie things together or imagine that they should go one way and not another.

But when Toothless found a coil of leather cord, dropped and forgotten, that smelled a bit like the flying-with had, and raced to show Hiccup, and tossed it over his beloved-companion so that it fell all around him to tell him what it should do, Hiccup did not want to play with it and make a new flying-with from it. Instead he startled and shoved it to the ground, growling and spitting, and stalked away.

He did not go far. Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss cannot bear to be out of sight of each other for long. It frightens them now to not have each other close enough to touch even for moments. But he would not listen when Toothless whimpered please? and wondered why?

Without the flying-with, how are they to fly together quick and wild and dangerous, racing through the sky and pouncing at new places like a toy to be batted around? How are they to fly everywhere together?

Toothless is very worried. Hiccup is hurting inside and pretending that he is not – even to Toothless! But Toothless knows him best of all, and he cannot be fooled by affectionate purrs and quick movements and much running around among the dragons of their flock and chattering and playing with their friends.

You! he says now, padding after Hiccup as they rise and stretch and leave their nest. He snaps up a burnt stick in his jaws, dropping it at his companion's side. He tries to remember if he has seen Hiccup drawing at all, and cannot. His lines and shapes and shadows are always being rubbed to ashes and scuffed away by the paws and scales and flames and splashes of passing dragons, but Hiccup delights in putting them back again, over and over again like chasing a tail that is too quick to be caught. There are no drawings, now.

This yes you now yes you please yes!

Hiccup bristles at it, raising his claws and sidling away and turning his eyes elsewhere. No, he says in movements, resentment hissing from him like steam. Stop! he growls.

Toothless growls back, leaping around him and blocking his steps as Hiccup tries to escape from a small stick. Crouching as if to hunt, Toothless whistles why why confusion puzzlement worry confusion you no why?

Hiccup turns his back on the black dragon entirely and collapses to the ground in a sulk, hunching his shoulders up defensively. Don't-want, he spits. But when Toothless whines, ear-flaps going down and wings drooping in unhappiness, he relents, turning back to the other half of himself and scampering close to nuzzle against Toothless' jaw and roll, baring his stomach and throat and begging forgive? sorry sorry love-you yes yes good always sorry love-you.

Toothless is not angry with him. He just does not understand.

He wants things to be as they were, but they are two-who-are-one, Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss together, and Toothless cannot make things right alone.

It is a joy and a goodness to have his beloved-one on his shoulders again as they wander through the caves. They sneak low and careful around the New Ones quarreling over fish and pounce to steal the food from under their noses. Then they must run very quickly with their jaws full before the New Ones can snap at them, their chirps of laughing us clever laughing yes yes fish this fish ours yes yes laughing laughing stifled quiet. They hide in a cave all over ice and dripping until the fish are all eaten and their theft forgotten, splashing in the small puddles as the warmth of their fires inside melt the ice and the snow that shelters there.

They perch beside Golden Bright who laughs with them at the bickering of a tangle of two-heads cousin/s who stand close together and argue and snap at each other until their heads are all mixed up and not even the arguing cousin/s can tell who is who or even what they are arguing about. They have to step backwards carefully, swaying back and forth, and their skulls knock together so much that the argument is forgotten.

Very Very Very Blue almost knocks them over even though he is still hatchling-small, leaping at them to purr and brush against them and thrum gratitude and happy happy home yes yes good safe yes happy you good brave you yes yes!

There are many New Ones in the nest now, but it is good that their friends that the terrible ships caught are back home with them too.

Cloudjumper! Hiccup says happily, sitting up tall and humming anticipation. Their guardian's perch is too far up to climb to, but Hiccup is again on Toothless' shoulders where he should be, and Toothless carries him up in an easy flight.

Sometimes Cloudjumper pretends that they are too silly to talk to or look at, but now the many-winged dragon who was their mother's mate greets them with a purr, his tail coming up and wrapping around them to pull them close.

Hiccup tumbles from Toothless' shoulders to scuttle among the cover of Cloudjumper's wings, rising partway to his back feet to brush his shoulders against the scales of their guardian's belly where he crouches against the stone. He scratches at itchy spots he knows, chattering greetings, as Toothless rears up briefly to nudge his skull against Cloudjumper's jaw.

Worry, Toothless says very quietly, ear-flaps going down as he cringes and looks to Hiccup, who has pulled a fold of Cloudjumper's wing over himself and hidden inside it. Sad he sad worry love fear love love don't-know you? you? help please help yes please please need…

He has never known Hiccup to act this way, refusing to do things that he likes, that Toothless knows he likes, that have always been as much a part of him as his voice. It makes no sense. It is not right.

He will not fly!

Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss are wanderers. They have always been wanderers, ever since Toothless grew big enough to carry his Hiccup-soul-love long enough to reach the floating ice and then sea stacks and then other islands and then further and further still. They go everywhere. But Hiccup will not leave the nest anymore! He will not even fly to the peaks of the mountain and the spurs of ice protecting their home. He will not look at the horizon.

And Toothless will not go without him.

He wonders, guiltily even at the thought, if it might be a thing of humans. Toothless never thinks of Hiccup as human – Hiccup is a dragon, they are dragons together, that is true – but he knows that his beloved one was human once.

Toothless does not understand humans. They are very strange. They do things and then they do different things. They say one thing with their voices and another thing with their bodies and then they do something else entirely. They roar like enemies and then they decide they want to be friends. They try to tear Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss apart and then they say with their bodies and their voices that it is good that the dragon-pair are two-who-are-one. They shout very loud to tell dragons not to fight their enemies and then they appear from nowhere and fight to protect dragons. And that is just the St-t-t-t-t-kk who has done all those things!

But Cloudjumper was their mother's mate, and it disturbs Toothless not at all to know that their mother was human.

He remembers the being of her more than her shape. He remembers being picked up in her paws and the sound of her voice a bit, quick and flowing and chattering with many sounds. He remembers that she was happy when he curled up against her warmth and that she did not snap and hiss like nesting mothers do when he crawled into her nest to be with the hatchling who was me too. He remembers the touch of her paw on his nose and the scent of it that meant mother. He remembers running behind her to Cloudjumper, and the sounds that she made for laughing that meant she was happy to be with them all.

If it is a thing of humans, perhaps Cloudjumper will know.

Hurting, says Cloudjumper, shoulders drooping. He sighs sad, but his signals say confusion and regret and don't-know in the way his eyes will not look at Toothless and instead stare at stone.

Help, Toothless pleads softly.

Cloudjumper shrugs, the movement twitching his wings. Hiccup rolls out from under them, yelping in mock indignation and swiping at Cloudjumper with his claws.

The many-winged dragon huffs and raises his head and looks past him, ignoring the little dragon pointedly.

Hiccup laughs and rises to his back feet, reaching up and pawing at Cloudjumper's faraway nose. Love-you, he croons, placating, until Cloudjumper relaxes again and decides it is all right a bit to be petted. The young dragon nuzzles against their guardian, chirruping affection and trust and together to him.

That, Cloudjumper indicates. He taps Hiccup with his nose, but his eyes speak to Toothless.

Toothless can do that. He can love his dearest-one always and always and forever.

Out in the open air of the meadow, they race across the ground, leaping from stone to stone and slipping on the lichen, dodging between the many dragons that perch there and stepping more carefully a bit across the edges of the ocean lake where the king rests, eyes closed. He is not sleeping, and his presence echoes always inside their skulls like the rush of ocean waves beyond the stone of the nest, but he does not command with great force.

The endless squabbles in the nest are small arguments, not great threats, even if there is more snarling, and more claws turned in to slash and tear, and more fire blown, and more storming away angry. Some of the New Ones do not understand that they cannot always fight. But the dragons that have been here always will not be bullied by them.

This confuses the New Ones who were fierce ones very much. Some of them have gone away out of the nest and not come back.

The king is patient with them as they jostle and settle into the new way of things and learn each other.

Hatchlings flit across the water in a chattering crowd and prance across the king's back and his face and his mane, and they slip with back paws flailing from his tusks until they remember their wings. Some of them make tiny splashes from their falling and some fly faster, leaving their clutch-mates to learn to leap from the water and fly again.

Yes yes yes you! they squeak and whistle, descending on the dragon-pair, ready to play more. Play yes you play us c'mon yes yes yes c'mon us play!

Hiccup laughs, jaw wide and tongue lolling, and springs at the nearest one. She shrieks with delight, staggering and waving her wings as he catches the horn of her nose and tumbles her to the ground. Her clutch-mates pounce, some of them batting at Hiccup and others defending him until they forget and leap at him in excitement. Toothless springs at all of them, growling mock-fierce mine mine mine mine! to pretend to drive them away from Hiccup, who freezes careful-still beneath the bigger dragon's paws and the shadow of his body, chuckling. The hatchlings find him in his hiding place at once, and they climb over Toothless and under him to chase Hiccup out to play with them more, chittering and calling, until the ones from the water fly over, dripping seawater everywhere.

You! one of them begs, pawing at Hiccup when they have tired themselves out. Panting hatchlings sprawl everywhere, all over each other, and the dragon-pair perched together, and the stones. One snaps at a flower, eating it whole, and tries to chew it like a fish. You you show! He spreads his small wings and dances around, whistling, with the last petal of it blowing from his jaws.

His clutch-mates echo him, asking for a story.

Hiccup shrugs in the way of dragons, waving his claws. What?

Fighting! another hatchling demands, showing her own claws and growling in imitation, leaping at one of the hatchling-flock.

The hatchlings do not hear Hiccup gasp as if struck, even his breath whimpering, but Toothless senses him freeze inside.

No, he refuses, turning away to hide against Toothless' chest, and, louder, No! when they insist.

The little ones sulk, whining and protesting, and race away to find a dragon who will tell them about fighting.

Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss do not follow. Fear hums from Hiccup not in sounds but in stillness. He crouches under Toothless' nose breathing slow and silent, and he stares at the stone beneath his paws as if it will crack and shiver away from him if he does not watch it carefully.

Safe here yes you safe here me here yes yes together us us good here here love-you safe yes, Toothless chirrs to him, nudging at him and purring reassurance and love love love, but worry snaps into his spine and the tip of his tail and the spring in his legs.

Carefully, deliberately, Hiccup curls up as small as he can and hides his face behind his forelegs. Here, he answers. His claws open and slash at all things. No! he snarls, rejecting it all.

Toothless tips his head curiously, not understanding.

C'mon, Hiccup gestures when he rises to all his paws again, and his steps as he moves back towards the darkness of the caves are slow and listless and resigned.

Above them in the sky, the cries of flock-mates taking off and flying away to hunt and play in the open air echo, and as Toothless watches, baffled, Hiccup looks up to follow them out of habit, but then he flinches as if threatened and looks down again, keeping his eyes on only the stone.

Toothless' ear-flaps droop, and his jaw opens in an unspoken wail of confusion and disbelief – Hiccup is afraid of the sky!

It cannot be. Toothless will not allow it to be.

At once the black dragon is on his feet and racing to follow, seething and shivering with horror for him. In a great leap he soars over his companion and lands skidding and spinning on the stones between the smaller dragon and the caves.

No! he snarls, bristling and spreading his wings. No!

Hiccup recoils and bares his teeth, but his body says want-to-run and not want-to-fight.

You! Toothless demands. You now here now yes you now!

Toothless distantly remembers times when Hiccup was small enough for the black dragon to pick up in his jaws and carry away even as his little companion struggled, yowling and thrashing and swiping awkwardly at Toothless' scales. He is too big to easily carry that way now, but he is not too big to pounce on and pin down and nudge at until he is perched sprawling and scrabbling and yelping on Toothless' shoulders.

No no no no! Hiccup yowls as Toothless spreads his wings and leaps.

He does not fly as quickly as he wants to, not without the security of the flying-with binding them together, but he flies dancing and wild, pausing and racing and twisting in the air to keep Hiccup clinging to his scales. His beloved-one has wings of his own, and while he does not fly quickly, he is not afraid to fall. And he would not fall far, with their own flock-family surrounding them.

The black dragon ignores his other half as Hiccup shrieks insults and protests and wails distress. The sounds tear at his heart deep inside, and echoing wails choke his throat, but Toothless swallows his own sounds down and flies up and up and up until they are far above the meadow. The bright sun greets them with flashing and sparking from the waves of the ocean, and the long shadows of the mountain-peaks lose their grip and cannot touch them.

Everything is different here and new. Fangs of ice that the dragon-pair played across and hid among before are shattered and melted and gone now. The old fangs were a place where Hiccup learned to use his wings, Toothless remembers. He remembers leaping across the high spurs and to lower ones, spreading his wings to glide and leading the way while Hiccup followed in his tracks.

He fell again and again and again, and Toothless dived to catch him, until once when they crashed together to the ground of the meadow and someone – Toothless does not remember who – shrieked at them to play somewhere else.

Hiccup had rested his jaw on his paws and scowled, wings trailing, and yelped and hissed with thinking.

After that they had gone higher, up and up and up, and up in the empty sky Hiccup had leapt from Toothless' shoulders and they had fallen together until the wind caught Hiccup's wings and they flew, together side-by-side and wonderful.

There is new ice now. Its edges are sharp and its shadows are unfamiliar, and its sides are still smooth with no places where claws have gouged into it to make it rough and good to cling to.

Even the stone among the ice is different now, tossed and shoved and fallen to new places by the battle between the kings, but Toothless lands on a hidden place among the ice where it is good to perch and look out over the ocean.

No! Hiccup protests, twisting away from the endless open ocean and the distant sky and the far horizon. But sharp waves of ice surround the stone, and their peaks are too high for him to leap to.

Don't-want, he spits at Toothless, turning his back on the sky and hunching his shoulders.

Growling, Toothless swats at him, knocking him to the ground. The bigger dragon pins him there with a single paw, looming over him and staring him down.

Look! Toothless commands him, snapping at the paw Hiccup raises to push his nose away. Catching Hiccup by that foreleg, Toothless pulls at him, sitting down heavily with a whump! until his beloved-one must look at the world.

Confusion, he yelps softly, as Hiccup's shoulders tense at the sight of it. Why why why no flying good yes yes yes good flying you me we us together-flying good good good! That – he gestures to the horizon with a flick of his nose – go you me us yes.

Out there is where they belong. They always come home, but they have always been wanderers too.

He whistles the signal for hiding-game with don't-understand and scorn in his sounds and his body, and you you why why why?

No hiding, Hiccup spits back.

Toothless yowls liar! indignantly. Dragons understand lies. They can pretend things that are not so, but it is hateful to do so when one they love can be harmed by it. Hiccup's lies are hurting him, Toothless believes, and he is hiding, he is!

He loves his dearest-one too much to let him hurt himself with such lies.

Hate! Hiccup screams at last, gesturing to the horizon with his claws spread wide as if to tear it all apart and let it fall from his jaws bloody and forgotten like pieces of a kill when dragons have hunted very well and can eat no more, and instead play with what remains.

Toothless cringes, even more baffled than before. No, he whines a protest. He spreads his wings, pacing in the small space of the perch. Released, Hiccup does not try to escape. He glares sullenly at the ocean and will not meet Toothless' eyes.

Liar you! Toothless can only declare. Us together us flying us far yes go yes flying flying together-flying look look look us go yes us brave yes good!

Hiccup wails, cowering, and in his shoulders and his eyes and his scent Toothless senses a thought that stops him between steps, one paw still up and his wings caught frozen as they beat, because the thought that Hiccup has been hiding is guilt, deep and crushing and tearing. It overflows from him like water in a pond that many dragons have waded into.

What? Toothless whistles disbelief.

His beloved-one whimpers, swaying as if he is not sure whether he wants to be angry at Toothless for bringing him here to stare down the horizon or if he wants to press close and be comforted. Toothless does not doubt. He steps delicately around Hiccup's smaller form and coils around him, nudging his face against his heart's-love companion.

Us we go, Hiccup whistles, and in cries and gestures and glances says that their enemy caught them, that the wrongness and madness in their enemy tracked them here, and then… Look, Hiccup says, gesturing at the scars still trodden into the frozen shoreline and the scorches across the sides of the mountain and the broken ships sunken in the shallow ocean. Parts of their bones still show above the water, and there are dragons perching on them and basking in the sun and fishing from them.

No, Toothless refuses. He noses at Hiccup, licking at his face and fur in small swipes at the salt of oceans there, trying to push him away from the guilt that shivers through his body. It is not their fault!

Hiccup snorts at him. That, he waves a paw at the horizon, no-more, and his voice says determined and hurting.

Toothless thinks he understands now. In their travels they have encountered and escaped from many dangers. They have trespassed in the dens of dragon-cousins and run from pfikingr and raided ships and crept around in human nests when all the pfikingr are sleeping. They have been caught in terrible winter-storms that struck too soon before the dragon-pair could fly home. There were rocks that fell all around before they could fly away, once, that struck them both and hurt so. They have hunted traps and argued with humans and defied the sickbadwrongthing that ate dragons and was a very great wrongness.

But those things have never come here.

Home was the last safe place.

Hiccup is afraid to leave it again, because now he knows that those dangers might follow them home.

Toothless cannot argue with that. But he does not want to stay hiding in their nest always! It will hurt them to do so, he thinks. Hiccup will be restless, with nowhere else to go and no new games to play, caught between their need to wander and his fear. They will both be unhappy. They go together, or not at all.

It is a big thought, and Toothless cannot figure out how to persuade Hiccup of it, even if some of the tension has bled away from his shoulders and his dearest one is curled against Toothless' chest instead. His claws open and close anxiously, ready to strike and slash against all the monsters he cannot stop seeing out there.

This? Toothless asks, nipping at one of Hiccup's claws that he does not take off anymore, not to draw and not to make things and not even to pet and scratch and groom their many kin-cousins and friends. One of his fangs snags in it, tugging it away, and Hiccup thrashes in panic, pulling the claws back and biting at it with his own small fangs, fixing it in place again.

No no no no no! he yelps. When Toothless looks puzzled, he presses them close against his chest and snarls don't-like.

Toothless sighs, rumbling patience and reassurance and love. Love-you, he purrs. You mine we us.

He knows Hiccup does not like to think that he might be different, that it hurts him, but Toothless knows that it does not matter.

Don't-want, Hiccup gestures, flicking one paw as if to brush something away. Paws no no out-there no-more!

He is done, he tries to persuade Toothless, whimpering. He will not be different anymore, not from anyone. He will change the way he looks every way he can, and then he will not do anything that others do not, and then he will be like them and they will be safe. He does not want to wander if only danger and enemies wait for them out there. He will not be different, and then no enemies will see him.

The black dragon will not be persuaded. Hiccup will not be Hiccup if he does not do the things that make him unique among dragons!

Toothless wants him to draw shapes and tell stories and make things and heal wounds. He wants Hiccup to fix the places where his scale-skins are fraying away and make a new flying-with for them to fly together so that they can go very far and find good things too. He wants Hiccup to not be afraid.

Rising to all his paws, Toothless paces around and around more, tail lashing, looking out over the world. He sees their flock-mates perched on the broken ships, leaping from them into the water and into the air. Spinning and diving in the sky, others of their family soar. Out towards the horizon, ripples in the ocean waves might be sea dragons – Toothless would like to go and see them, because sea dragons can be friendly sometimes, he knows now, remembering the lightning-noses ocean-cousins from what seems like long ago.

From everywhere there are the cries and calls of dragons, shrieking to each other about hunting and flying and the winds and the ocean and the playing of hatchlings and of warmth and comfort and friends and kin.

They flying there look, Toothless says slyly, pawing at Hiccup. If Hiccup is truly determined to do only what other dragons do – then dragons fly!

Reluctantly, Hiccup pads to the ledge and admits that their kin-cousins are flying, huffing indignantly as if it is a very great kindness to notice this.

C'mon… Toothless encourages him, dipping a shoulder to him and letting his tongue flash and loll in a dragon's smile. Up you up c'mon please please go us go yes please!

Flying always makes them feel better when they are sad. Flying will make Hiccup feel better now.

When Toothless leaps he does gently, catching the wind and letting it carry them up up up from the mountain and out over the ocean. He spirals into the sea air as Hiccup settles himself in his accustomed place, holding tight and clinging to Toothless. In the wind there are scents of distant places and dragons close by, fires and the musk-scent of the nest that means home and ice sharp and shivering in his nose. It blows at him like the softest breath of the king, the breath that is only frost and not the ice that blasts and strikes and defends, lifting Toothless as if the ground beneath his paws was only ever a dream.

The sky – and the warmth on his shoulders – is the only true thing.

The ice is cool beneath him, hungry-cold lapping at the air, but far above the sun blazes, warming his wings and blinding his eyes. Even when he closes them, flying without sight for many beats of his wings and his heart, the sun is so bright he knows it always.

A nudge at his ribs from one of Hiccup's back paws is almost a teasing scold, warning him that to wander blind is not a game for flying.

It is a game they have played before, though, teaching Hiccup to track sounds and follow scents until his eyes grew used to the darkness. Toothless remembers their flock-family playing with them, Quickest and Loud Feet and Fell From Ledge prowling through the grass of a field elsewhere while Hiccup shut his eyes very tight and followed their sounds, and Toothless with him for the fun of it, both of them cheating whenever no one was looking, and laughing together when they were caught.

Still, Toothless opens his eyes and flies more carefully. There are many more dragons in the sky, now.

But Hiccup does not signal again as Toothless banks against the wind and dips down towards the waves, skimming so close that the spray from the waves their flight kicks up stings his tongue and tastes of salt. Toothless feels his dearest-one sprawl against the back of his skull and press his face against the scales there, hiding still and not seeing the waves as they flash like many-many-many bright eyes.

The ocean dragons Toothless thinks he might have seen are gone when the black dragon and his rider reach the place where they were. Snorting only slightly in disappointment, Toothless beats his wings more strongly and takes them up, setting out.

Hiccup does not wail and demand to be taken home, but he does not join his voice to Toothless' as the bigger dragon purrs with joy at the feeling of flight, of together-flying again. His silence is grieving still, and despair, the silence of a dragon returning to its nest with its head low and its tail trailing. He does not lift his head to track the wind as it blows all around them, and his body does not relax into the bone-deep satisfaction of the stretching of wings used well.

Rumbling frustration, Toothless veers and swerves and finds a new wind and a new path, flying alongside a trail of clouds like a stripe through the sky, refusing to give up. He knows a place where flying is best!

In time under the soaring sun that is too high to chase and catch, there is an island not their nest in the distance, and Toothless locks his wings into a steady glide towards it, listening always for the smallest signals from Hiccup-soul-love. So he knows Hiccup is not paying attention, or his beloved-one would know the trick at once. He would tense with it, and yelp with understanding.

But he stays silent and unseeing as Toothless soars, waiting for his trick to pounce on them both.

The blasting winds of the place with the updrafts swat at Toothless like a great splash into water, filling his wings and emptying his body of breath, even from very high up as they are, and as Hiccup snaps to attention and begins to yelp realization and surprise, Toothless beats his wings one last time, taking them just a bit higher –

– and twists in the air, rolling.

Without the flying-with binding them together, they cannot fly upside-down without falling, so Hiccup falls, tumbling and flailing, and Toothless falls with him, falls beside him – they fall together – wings furled.

Shrieking in surprise and indignation and shock, Hiccup scrambles at the air, but there is no grip for his claws there. It is a long way to fall, and the updrafts catch only opened wings, and to hit the water hurts, they know.

Stubbornly, Toothless refuses to spread his own wings, glaring a challenge and a dare even as the air roars around them, surging upward but finding no wings to fill, and the water churns below.

But then Hiccup catches the edges of his wings and slips his claws through them, spreading himself out to catch the air instinctively, and Toothless screams delight as his falling slows and flying begins again.

At once Toothless' wider wings snap out, twisting to turn and spin through the air, winding around his beloved-companion as Hiccup fights the updrafts, circling and climbing.

You! Hiccup screeches at him, teeth bared and eyes glaring, as Toothless banks around him, chuckling with his tongue lolling and eyes flaring. Not funny! he yowls.

Can't-catch-me! Toothless dares him, coiling in the air and waving his tail, a tempting target to pounce for. C'mon c'mon you you play yes laughing laughing you c'mon!

Hiccup dives after him only to catch him and scold him for the trick, at first, angry at being thrown from his companion's back without warning when he wished only to be left alone to grieve – to sulk, Toothless snorts at him, and Hiccup shrieks not!

But the world beyond the two of them fades to not-important as they chase each other through the blasts of air, plunging past in quick close dives and Toothless using his stronger wings to go up up up up up, he teases in passing. Hiccup snatches for the tip of one wing and manages to catch hold of it for only a moment, but long enough to pull the bigger dragon off balance and make him flail to not fall as the updrafts tear past.

Toothless rolls in midair and snorts up at Hiccup where he hovers before turning his fall into a dive, plunging towards the water and soaring into a strong gust that tosses him far into the air – but not quite as high as Hiccup, who folds his wings for just long enough to drop him into reach of Toothless' nose. He taps it with a single claw and twists away, tumbling to catch another wind that bats him out of reach of Toothless' attempt to swipe back at him.

So of course Toothless chases him.

So of course Hiccup makes Toothless chase him, fleeing in quick tumbles and sharp turns. And by the time Toothless catches up to him after much veering and soaring and flying, flipping over and over in a roll and swatting out with his tail to knock Hiccup from his updraft and make him stumble in the air, the dragon-feral is laughing too.

And when Toothless misses his pounce, diving past Hiccup instead of into him, his partner catches the edge of the wind and lands on the black dragon's shoulders. And he settles there not limp and hiding and grieving, but ready and alert and with the joy of flight and flight together singing through them both.

Hiccup taps his claws against the stick tentatively, reaching out as if it might coil and strike and bite, the crumbling ash of it snapping out fangs and biting deep and quick like a snake that is not-kin. But it is only a stick, and sticks cannot bite.

Looming over him where they rest among the many tiny waterfalls that melt down from the ice soaring over the nest, Toothless hums delight as Hiccup wraps his claws around it and sets it to the cool stone. They are far away from the welcoming darkness of the caves, as far away as they can go and still stay within the nest, where the green of the many small meadows perched among stones reaches up to brush against the ice and stretches down to the edge of the seawater lake where the king rests.

The dragon-feral wants to forget how badly it had hurt to be seen by their enemies and to know that the lie he never wanted to tell had been believed. He wants to forget the scent in his nose and in his mind of the madness of the Knotted Man, snapping to bite, and the wounds torn through their shared self and the bodies of their flock-family and the body of their home, vulnerable and open.

Hiccup knows very well that Toothless is keeping him away from the caves, not letting him hide away in the shelter of them. He has wanted to sleep always and forget –

– except dreams that –

– but Hiccup adores him for it even more so, love humming between them like a grooming tongue rasping across his face and his fur and his scales as if he were the smallest of hatchlings. Toothless is the more sensible of the two of them, he knows, and the young dragon will listen to Toothless when he will listen to no one else.

He is trying to listen, now. With the panting exertion of chasing-flight digging its claws into his sides still, and the body-memory of many ups and downs and tumbles and spirals echoing in his bones and his skull, it is easier to be out in the sunlight and the open again as long as Toothless is here beside him. Even the thought of the endless open beyond, and everything that might lurk in its shadows and distances, is easier to think of.

Toothless is warm and alive and here beside him, joy love you me we us us-together here yes good good good love humming in his breath and his heartbeat and his small sounds, and Hiccup knows he does not need to be afraid.

The stick makes only a rough mark like a scratch across the stone, but Hiccup cannot bring himself to take his claws away, even to draw better. More than ever, he wants them to melt into his clever paws and grow there. He is clumsier with them there, and his paws are not so clever, but he is more right when he has claws.

If his paws were not so clever, he would not put them into dark places to snatch and grab and investigate, and then the dangerous things that live in hidden places would not leap out snarling and clawing at the trespass.

He and Toothless would get into so much less trouble, if his paws were like everyone else's.

But the sight of the dark ash against the stone reminds him that it is good to make shapes for others to see, and Toothless purrs louder and louder as his paws make the line a shadow. Carefully he makes the shadow a shape, the shape one of many, and all of them a picture of dragons flying together in the sky. He draws and imagines the shapes are Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss together, and Moss on Paws a bit although it does not look quite like her, and Licks Stones, and his clutch-mate Kicks in Dreams, and Spots-and-Speckles, and She Who Was Weary She, and Cloudjumper, and Lookout, and Tail Chaser.

Beneath them very great he draws their king, glancing up out of the side of his eyes to watch the king himself where he rests in the ocean lake and listens to the tangled-together sound of his nest and his flock.

And he hesitates, and then draws Flies-in-Storms with a figure on her shoulders, flying too, because Flies-in-Storms is a friend, and the pfikingr she who is a friend to Flies-in-Storms is – though it is strange – their friend too.

The St-t-t-t-t-kk does not fly, so Hiccup does not know where to draw him. But then the king does not fly, and he has drawn the king.

Hiccup puzzles about it, clicking uncertainty, and scribbles a small heavy shape all over fur, safely away from the king, and not flying, but watching them maybe.

When the king's attention turns to them, both young dragons sense his presence at once, and the drawing is forgotten as their eyes lift toward the king of the nest as he wades into the shallows rolling away from the ledges and leaps and streams of the meadow.

Majesty, Hiccup crouches, obedient and content, and Toothless scrambles to his feet only to duck his head and his shoulders and fold his wings tight, eyes closing.

Affection washes over them like the tide.

The king is pleased that the wounds in the hearts of his little wanderers are healing.

Hiccup does not try to hide his flinch – he cannot lie to the king who knows Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss inside. But he had not thought that others would see and know. Of course Toothless had known, but he does not like to think that the king had worried for them.

Calm, the king bids them be, and the dragon-pair sit up and settle down again, close together and comfortable.

Leaning against Toothless' shoulder, pressed against his heartbeat where he is safest of all, Hiccup watches and waits. Toothless nuzzles him and purrs, and Hiccup rubs their faces together, humming soft sounds.

But the king thinks of Worry.

The king listens to all the sounds of the nest, and he hears the quarreling among the New Ones who were fierce ones and the New Ones whose scales and eyes were dulled and the dragons that have always been here and the ones who were slaves to the sickbadwrongthing before. He hurts for the ones who were hurt and the ones that were lost, and this should be a safe place for them.

Breaking, he sends.

He fears that the nest is like an egg with the grown-big hatchling trying to get out, kicking and tearing and shattering it from inside.

The king protects them, but still Hiccup tries to whistle reassurance to him, trembling at the sight of unease in the eyes of the great king and tasting his thoughts rolling like thunder.

Bright blue eyes as wide and deep as oceans pin them in place, and the king commands them.

Wanderers, he knows them as.

Search, he commands.

Against his back, Hiccup feels Toothless chirp confusion, not understanding.

Thoughts of flying wash through them, their own memories sent back to them, of distant horizons and the nest at their back and far away, and new places always ahead, sights and tastes and knowing of –

Sending.

Hiccup can only wail in shock, and at once Toothless picks up his cry – the king is sending them away!

No, the reply comes back quickly, heavy with Kindness.

He would never send them away. This is their home, and it has always been their home, and it always will be – they are welcome here always, they are loved, they belong!

Relief is a deep sigh like a single breath blowing through two bodies, gasped in by one throat and breathed out by another.

Where? the king asks.

Where else, he asks them, is safe for dragons? Where else can dragons go?

Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss have been to many places in their wanderings, and they can barely remember them all. But Hiccup thinks very hard, trying. Unconsciously, one paw reaches out for the forgotten drawing-stick, scratching with it at the stone as if to draw all the shapes hidden inside his eyes.

He remembers an island that was good for dragons but that was empty, where he and his Toothless-heart hunted and rested and drew thoughts before they flew to pounce at ships and were caught and torn apart.

He knows that the Island of Dragons and Strange Pfikingr is a better place for dragons now, that dragons live among the nests of humans but the humans do not mind so much as long as the dragons do not break things or start fights or steal food that humans want for their own, and sometimes the humans can be friends to dragons if the dragons are very patient with humans who are stupid often.

There was a thick fog with very much rain in it that they did not fly into, only skimming past it and away, and beyond there were many islands. Some of them were trembling and restless under paws, and some of them were nests for dragons that snapped at Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss as stranger-intruders and drove them away, and there was a singing noise that Tt-th-ss liked very much but (click)-phuh did not like at all. They argued about it very much, but Hiccup won and they flew away.

But there were places that were good to perch on and good to rest and hunt and sleep and play in, and there were dragon-cousins there who were friendly when Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss whistled no-threat and were friendly too.

He cannot tell which places Toothless is remembering. There are so many, and – a bit of curiosity nibbles at him, waking up hungry from its hiding-away sleeping – probably many more.

Approval.

The king sees their remembering in their eyes turned up towards him. The weight of his thought is like curling up to sleep among many dragons, paws and tails and necks and jaws draped over them, secure and safe and warm.

Search, he commands them.

They have always been wanderers, but now the king is sending them out like hunters. They will find places where dragons can go and be safe. They are good wanderers, because they know how to scent for danger and track it to its lair and decide whether to fight or to flee. They leap quickly and they fly swiftly and they fight fiercely, and they are clever.

Follow.

And others will follow them to new safe nests, if they lead others there.

Clicking to each other in a mixed-up tangle of amazement and confusion and reluctance and eagerness, the dragon-pair bat at and play with and chew on what they are being commanded to do. It is something they can do, they know at once. It is what they have always done.

Hiccup still does not like the idea of dragons being sent away. They will be sad and afraid and lonely and lost again!

No, the king promises. Choice.

They will go only if they want to. But the king believes that they will. They will go in search of food and nests and they will follow each other.

But dragons are kin always, no matter how far they wander, and this will always be a safe place for them to return home to.

Danger! Toothless cries, a soft alarm sound so that their flock-mates will not be afraid where there is no danger here. There is only danger dreamed of, the terrible things that Hiccup was hiding from, remembering, and the dangers they do not know about, the ones that hide to pounce.

Their kin-cousins will not be safe far away and alone out there, without the king close by to protect them!

The king thinks Resignation, but he thinks Determination too.

There are always dangers, he knows, and the dragon-pair know with him. He protects this place, but he cannot protect all the world.

Small dragons must protect each other, too.

Affection, the king thinks to them. Approval.

Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss protect each other, he knows, and they do it very well.

The king's trust in them – and his rumble of Pride – is like the safest of places and the strongest of purrs, and Hiccup and Toothless bask in his praise like the bright-burning sun. Praise feels like being curled up together with the cold far away, safe and warm with stomachs full, humming joy and love and laughter to each other, exhausted after a long day of excitement, and more to do tomorrow.

It feels like a horizon, and Hiccup remembers the joy of that endless sky as if it were the first breath after a deep dive.

There is no mockery or chattering laughter in the king's Amusement.

There is only encouragement, the feeling of wind under wings.

And now there are new flying-with cords woven around Tt-(click)-phuh-th-ss, binding their bodies together just as their hearts are tied together so tight as a single self that they can never be torn apart. There is no enemy who can separate them inside, and if they try…the burned and broken traps were good to take apart for things for dragons to play with and for Hiccup to make new things from.

And now there is laughter humming between them as Toothless beats his wings to catch a warm soaring thermal and hovers, waiting over the ocean as the sea breezes snap and tug and cuff at them. On his shoulders, Hiccup taps his claws against his partner-beloved's skull, teasing, and Toothless flicks an ear-flap back at him for his rider to catch and pet at.

And now there are many dragons taking off from the peaks of the nest hidden by the ice of their king and safe again within the mountain, and leaping from the mouths of many cave-tunnels, and springing up from the broken ships in the water that belong to dragons now.

We go yes yes yes good anticipation excitement you here we go you me we us we fly! Toothless chatters, chirruping and twitching with his readiness to chase down the world and catch it like a bright fish or a soaring star.

Hiccup chuckles an answer, gesturing with his claws. They yes they go c'mon dragon-kin us – he roars the flock-sound that is the sound for all of them, the sound of their family that is all of them always – together go!

They have been leaders before. They have had ideas about playing, or about hunting, or about tracking, or about raiding and stealing with sneaky paws and quick snaps, or about breaking traps and stealing dragons back from human cages. But now they lead at the command of the king, and his trust flies with them like a claiming-belonging-scent or colors splashed across them all.

And Tt-(click)-th-phuh-ss are trusted, and they are loved, and they have each other always, and that will be their safety even when they are far from home.

Hiccup turns away from the flock that will follow them for now to the empty island to make it full of dragons again, and looks out to the bright horizon. The sun has climbed out of the ocean and burned itself dry, and now it is soaring high again.

They will not catch the sun today.

Perhaps they can sneak up and pounce on it tomorrow.

He bares his fangs and tenses his claws as the flames from the sun flash from a new sharp-claw blade. They warm the leather of the flying-with that has not yet been battered old and worn and smooth, but will be soon once they have played with it much more. They shine from Toothless' dark scales as his beloved-one purrs with the joy of being together as they should be, in the sky and unafraid, and Hiccup smiles a dragon's smile as Toothless glances back at him and his eyes laugh love-you!

They can fight monsters, if they must, as long as they are together.

But they have so many new places to be…

-end-

Afterword/Note to Readers:

"Okay, but Le'letha…is this going to be a trilogy?"

Here's the deal:

If, some Friday in 2019, the lights in the movie theater come up and I'm still in my seat crying my eyes out, I don't think I'll have the heart to write a third installment for this AU.

But, if the writers are merciful, I may walk out (as I did from the second movie) dancing and laughing and inspired, filled with new characters and settings and ideas and possibilities, delighted by the ways these people I love have developed and matured and grown all the while continuing to be wonderful.

If it's the second option, then this AU – "Nightfall" series, Wildfire Trilogy, whatever you think of it as – will continue in 2019 with the third volume, probably called Freefall.

Fingers crossed.

…I have no idea what it's actually going to be about, but I can't pass up that title.

Until then, I've got some more short stories set in this universe to write (suggestions are welcome but not a commitment), and some sleep to catch up on.

Thank you, then, for reading Stormfall. If you enjoyed it at all – since you got this far – please let me know. I'm always wildly happy to talk about this universe and HTTYD in general, answer questions (awkward questions are fine), offer rationalizations, and field anything else you'd like to toss at me. This has been my life for the past two months – if you include Nightfall, it's been my life for the past two years. It will probably continue to be my life for at least the next two!

And as promised, the soundtrack I've been listening to while writing Stormfall, plus some behind-the-scenes information, can be found at deviantartdotcom (slash) le-letha/journal/HTTYD-Stormfall-Extras-604546188

Fair flight to you all.

Le'letha