"Night Fury, get down!"

Another heap of fire spews from the sky, and Night just barely reacts in time. He ducks beneath his shield, muscling against the blast of heat now smoldering around him. He's not going to hold. I can see it. His arm quivering, his breath heavy and hurting from the smoke. The battle is painted all over his face where ashes and sweat combine. And with his special Plasma Blast already used up, he's exhausted.

We both are.

So it's now or never.

Our enemy is so busy hurling tactless fireballs at Night Fury that he doesn't see me leaping towards the peak of the Great Hall. Its spires and embellishments make for the perfect vantage point. There's no way I could miss at that height with Sæwmann feeling so blindly full of himself at the moment. If Sæwmann's attention span is anything remotely like Spitelout Jorgenson's before he was akumatized, then it only leaves me minutes to save Night Fury and the rest of Berk. If even that.

I just hope it's not too late.

I cough bitterly, expelling the poison, and try to compose myself while the air up here is still clear enough for me to breathe somewhat normally. From here, the whole island comes into view and, admittedly, I falter for a moment that I know don't have to spare.

Berk is burning. Not all of it― yet― but there are enough flames rising into the sky to convince us it's dawn. My home, my island, is aglow again and my family at the mercy of the searing light.

Below me is Sæwmann, now laughing callously as he corners my partner. He's all ego and rage now. More than he ever was as Spitelout, and more menacing too. Great metal horns wreath around his head. An ember Sæwelo insignia, the "S" rune, decorates his chest and never seems to run out of flame. Chainmail congeals into his flesh until it is one. He's practically a berserker from Hel.

Still, there's one place the chainmail doesn't cover, and that's where I train all my attention. My eyes still sting with spicy tears, but I can see my mark fine enough. It's just going to have to do. There's no time to coordinate everything to the last detail. That'd be great, trust me, but not at all practical. This is the only chance I have.

My arm raises to the sky, and the words come to me like thunder after the lightning: "Spine shot!"

Several daggering blades of blue and yellow appear in my hand. Harpoon-like scales with deadly accuracy guided by my will. It never misses its mark.

My special ability.

The first three shots land just before Sæwmann's feet and have him stumbling over onto his back. At last this gives Night Fury his chance to get clear of range and take up his own position. My next shot is more precise than the last. It has to be. With this being my special ability, the last of my miraculous's reserves, I'm not going to have too much time to take another shot.

I swing my arm down, releasing one more sharp spine toward my enemy. The proud, burly Viking doesn't possess anywhere near the speed and agility to dodge my lucky charm. And with his chest now completely exposed to me, It strikes the S insignia hard enough to swipe it clean off his breastplate, and sends its scuttling down the embankment.

Night Fury is ready and waiting. He scoops up the accursed piece of metal just before Sæwmann can spit another round of fire. At last… the battle is finally over. Night Fury snaps the metal piece over his leg, breaking it into two. And out comes the blackened glow of an akumatized fireworm.

"Alright." he says in his usual stance of readiness. "Let's finish this."

It's this part of our heroic adventures that I love most to watch. The sweet ending to all our endeavors that makes the whole thing worth it. I know I can rest easy now that Night Fury is in control.

Night aims his sword towards the scurrying fireworm. It's a seemingly harmless blunt sword with a dragon-headed pommel that he wields confidently. A sword not meant to slice or to destroy, but one to create and to protect. And it's more powerful than anyone could imagine.

"Time to de-evilize!"

The akuma is lured onto the edge of the sword where its darkness peels away and slides down the groove of the blade. The wicked aura never overtakes the weapon, however. Night's soul is too good for that. And so, when the evil is drained, the fire ignites again with a heatless blade of light and power.

It's Night Fury's pure and selfless heart that grants him this power to change the nature of beings. The fireworm, once floating in an aura of dark, returns with its rightful, gentle glow. The creature is pure once again. Saved by his light.

I smile, never ceasing to be amazed by Night's tender, benevolent talent. It's an ability I will never have, and not simply because of our differing miraculouses. I may swing my ax and shoot all the spine shots I please. But I would never be able to win without my partner, my friend; Night Fury. The heart and leader of our duo that I am happy to follow.

"See you, bud." Night chuckles, releasing the fireworm back into the sky.

My hand instinctively reaches for his shoulder in a comforting gesture. He's warm to my touch and I can feel his own relief in the way he relaxes his arms. Together we watch the orange glow of the redeemed fireworm slowly dance up into the night sky. It seems like it will accompany the stars. Dawn, too, is still waiting for us on the horizon. Even if right now it only appears in the form of Berk burning to cinders, the new day is still on its way in, and the both of us need to head back to our regular, mundane lives.

"That was some nice work there, Night. Although, just a small note for next time, maybe you shouldn't walk right into the blast zone. Your suit may be fireproof, but the buildings behind you aren't." I give him a playful shove.

"Heh. I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for your utmost concern and care, m'lady."

I smile, a bit of a laugh trying find its way out of me.

"But while I'm thanking you for things that save that my skin, that was one heck of a shot back there, Nadder. I don't think even Thor could be so accurate. I wasn't gonna last much longer under those blasts. So thanks."

I shrug, "It's all in the wrist. No need to thank me. Besides, we're partners in this. I'll always have your back. But it is nice to hear some appreciation, of course."

More of those thank-yous and sweet talk is going to have wait, however. The jewel on my headband suddenly begins to alarm, warning me that my time as Deadly Nadder is up. The moment beside him, the touch of his body beneath my fingertips, all has to end.

"Uh, sorry, Night. Gotta wing out. Care to do the honors?"

He nods. Time is precious for the both of us. Soon I will be Astrid Hofferson again, and he will be... whoever is behind that cowl. We both have normal lives beneath our masks that aren't just going to sit and wait for us. The beeping of our jewels is testament to that. That soon our heroic Valkyrie-like forms will vanish.

Night lifts his sword one last time. He aims the tip right up against the sky, like challenging the dark of night itself, and ignites the flames.

"Miraculous Night Fury!" he proclaims to the world. The sword fires a bolt of pure energy, pure beauty, up into the air where it explodes and sparkles. The flames that have ravaged Berk all fizzle away and vanish. Buildings reform as though they'd never been harmed. The broken Saewelo that held Spitelout's akuma rejoins into the one piece that had once marked his storehouse. And Spitelout Jorgenson himself is released of his curse, returning to his normal, unaware self on the ground.

The light of Night's sword twinkles like the stars among the sky. It has cured our island, cleansed away the evil and destruction, and has saved us all.

But I can not be out there with him to celebrate. I must hide within an old sheep stall that I'd scurried into without much of a choice. I guess, when it comes to protecting your identity, you take whatever you can get. It's the first place I spotted that wouldn't be populated by my fellow villagers. I may smell like livestock for a while, but it's a small price to pay for my secret and the ancient Viking treasure I must conceal.

I sigh, tired and sore. The vibrant blues and purples along my suit begin to trickle away, revealing only my normal hands beneath.

Dawn has returned at last to Berk, and so has Astrid.

The day begins much sooner than expected. Not a moment after sneaking through the door to my house, the roosters holler in the distance. Its calls are taunting. While everyone else will be waking up, it only reminds me that I haven't even gone to bed yet. My soft wool blankets call to me like the songs of the hypnotic nøkk. It would be just so easy to give in to it too, like a nasty trap perfectly designed just for me and all my aching muscles.

But Astrid can't sleep during the day. She doesn't get an excuse.

No one can know that I've been fighting akumatized villains all through the night as the Deadly Nadder, so the Astrid part of me has to keep up appearances. As exhausted, and sore, and hungry, and bruised as I am... I have to act like the opposite is true.

Ugh.

Stormfly springs out from beneath the cover of my spaulder. Perhaps kwami are just better adapted to recuperating faster than humans, because she's spritely enough to flit around my room as though the battle of this morning were a mere dream.

"You gonna be alright to make it through the day?" she asks― which is slightly unusual for the vanity queen she is to be so concerned for my health after a fight. Normally I'm just supposed to shower her with accolades for how strong and willful she was to have lasted that long in the fight. Maybe I should take it as a compliment, though, that she seems to have so much faith in my own strength.

Only now she may be able to notice it's withering fast.

"I'm gonna have to be, Stormfly. I can't allow myself to slip up. Not for a moment. As glorified and indestructible as people have made Deadly Nadder, Astrid's still got a lot riding on her as well. I mean, I've got warrior training, axe throwing championships, the chores around Berk, my studies, patrol duty. Just to name a few. I can't let my exhaustion show. I'm not about to risk my future because some maniac is trying to keep me up all night."

"But, Astrid, everyone needs a break sometimes. Especially you! You're basically living two people's lives. You deserve double the rest."

I smirk gratefully at the tiny, vibrantly colored kwami. She is right, of course. I do need rest. I can feel my eyes already becoming heavy, and stinging as if the fires from this morning were still around me. More than that, akumatized villains emerging is becoming more and more frequent, and I may have to fight another battle today. But I still can't quit my normal life because of that. Then people would definitely start to suspect something.

"You know, Stormfly," I sigh," if Bewilderbeast is really that smart, he's going to try and tire us out so we can't fight back. Well... I think it's working, as much as I hate to admit."

She zigzags around my face in a maddening blur of blue. She will not go unheard, this action demanding that I yield to her warnings.

"That's all the more reason you should stay and rest, Astrid! I can't let you go out there and exhaust yourself entirely. Bewilderbeast could strike at any time and you will need all your wits and strength to fight him. Night Fury will need you. He can't take him on alone. Please, at least take care of yourself for his sake."

Of course she'd bring him up in order to win her argument. My heart snags on the very mention of him. The idea of failing him because of my potential-overworking myself does make me think twice about maybe pretending to be sick today. But no. As much as I'd hate to risk slowing Night Fury down, I know its my battle acumen and strategy that he relies on most. And that's what I need Astrid for.

"I know that. Of course I know that. But I can also fight just as well as Astrid as I can as Deadly Nadder. Berk is my home. My family and friends, my tribe, are all at risk every time he attacks. So the more ways I can defend it, the better. Please. Don't you worry about my strength, Stormfly. I'll always have plenty. Especially when it comes to defending my people. That's why I was chosen, remember?"

Stormfly begrudgingly concedes with her silence. She may be a warm and affectionate being, but Stormfly is also just as much a warrior as I am. We know the risks, and we know the cause, and we're willing to do whatever it takes.

I hook my axe to my back, fix my braid that's been frazzled and frayed from the fight. There's no way to completely conceal my fatigue― not in my appearance, that is― but I'll make up for it in action and precision as usual. I'll have to in order to stay at the top of my game. It doesn't take me long at all to get ready for my day, even with the soreness and drooping eyes, and I begin towards the front door once again.

Berk's gonna need me even without my mask, and I'm not about to let everyone down.

"C'mon, Toothless." I grumble in resignation. As intently as the small black kwami I call my best friend has tried to warn me, I fear the coercive abilities of my dad are far more powerful. Apparently, being so exhausted that you fall face first into your morning porridge and nearly drown― if that's any indication of your present mental state― is no excuse to miss training. Toothless obviously protested this, fearing for my well-being, and nearly forced me to go back to my room. But being that he's a mythical creature whose existence needs to be kept secret, doesn't make for a compelling argument against my dad.

So, yeah. I'm kind of stuck with no choice but to drag my near lifeless body down to the arena where I'll be subjected to sharp objects, fire, and people who basically hate me.

Just another day for Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.

Toothless pushes out from beneath my fur vest once again, his sharp green eyes shooting me another look of disapproval. It's looks like these that sometimes make me think he's more parenting of me than my own burly, chieftain father.

"You know this is a stupid idea, right?" he snaps, the usual jests in his tone gone. "Look at you. You can barely walk in a straight line. All these akuma attacks are wearing you out fast, and you're in no condition to just be waltzing into a battle arena. You need to take more care of yourself."

"I know, I know." I sigh. "I should get some rest, heal up, and return refreshed and awake for the next attack which could very well happen at any given moment. Because to tire myself out would just make things infinitely easier for Bewilderbeast to take the miraculouses, and I can't just leave everything to Deadly Nadder. I know, Toothless. I know."

He peers at me a bit more pointedly now, "So then why aren't you doing that?"

"Because, Toothless, I... well. You know. I just... I just can't. I still have to be Hiccup sometimes, you know. I can't... abandon my normal life."

Although, it wouldn't be a terrible idea. Fighting bad guys with God-like powers who all want to kill me as Night Fury is actually considerably better than my everyday life. At least Night Fury goes appreciated. I mean, Night Fury is a symbol. Statues honor him in the village square and the people cheer when a battle is won. He's fast on his feet, he can hold back fire blasts and blow away catapults, he can even fly across the sky for periods of time, making him appear like the mighty Einherjar descending from Asgard.

He's also me, of course, but no one else gets to know that. So I don't get those praises or even a mere fraction of that respect. When you think about it, no one would really mind if I stopped maintaining Hiccup's everyday life.

I force myself to shake those thoughts out of my head, however. I can't have those if I'm going to be a hero: the self doubt, the pity. And I can tell by the concern glinting back in Toothless' mint eyes that he's glad I abandoned those kinds of thoughts as well. He dislikes them as much as I do.

"I hope you know what're doing." he says, rubbing against the bottom of my chin. The kwami is warm and almost leathery to the touch, but more comforting than anyone I've ever had.

"I hope so too, bud."

Hurriedly, Toothless flits away back beneath my vest as we approach the large iron gates of the arena. Sometimes I too wish I could vanish as simply as that. Especially seeing as the action of battle training has already begun inside the arena wall. The clamor of catapults shakes the very ground. Commands and terrified shrieks― Fishlegs' I'll bet― echo into the morning air. Metal clangs, and boots thomp, and wood creaks. Oh, the sweet sounds of pillages and massacres, am I right?

A stocky, hulking mass of Viking approaches the gate with an eye roll. An embarrassed chuckle follows my awkward, please-don't-be-too-mad at me grin, but he's numb to all this now. This is a sight he's seen more than enough times. I'm fairly sure he just stands by the gates now and waits for me to show up. The man merely scratches his head with the hook that protrudes from his arm as the gates creak open.

"So, decided to show up today, did you? Let me guess. Your father made you come." Gobber sighs tediously.

"Yeah. Sorry. I know I'm late. I overslept."

His brows raise incredulously at that, "That's all? No more trolls, or poison berries, or spontaneous rock falls? Don't tell me you've run out of interesting excuses to tell. I was just about ready to write an epic about you; Hiccup Haddock III, The Unlucky Adventurer."

"N-No, no. No more of those today." I try to just laugh that off abashedly as I scoot my way past the thick build of Gobber. I may have possibly, sort of, gone a little bit overboard with a few of my past excuses, and I can feel Toothless trying to cover his laugh against my tunic. I give my chest a slight smack in an attempt to get him to knock it off, but the opportunity to tease me is a bit too good for him to pass up.

"Well, alrighty then, Sleepy Head," Gobber grins connivingly, "In you go. No time to waste. You've got plenty of learnin' to do."

By the time I can feel his hand on my shoulder, there's nothing I can do. He shoves me straight out into the frenzy of the arena before I can pick a proper weapon from the rack. I stumble in before the wrath of my classmates. There's already a fearsome mock-battle playing out around me. Fishlegs is scurrying between water buckets and ballistas, trying to put out flames with little success. Snotlout has somehow ended up on fire. The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, appear to be the opposing team, armed with shielded catapults and a cavalry of boars... for... some... reason. And then there's―

"Hiccup, get down!"

Astrid.

She leaps before me, quick as ever, her presence heralded by the explosion of flames. A thick hay bale doused with fire careens towards me. But she is much faster than it, much stronger. Her shield singes some in the initial blast, but she presses mightily back against the force of the impact. Never faltering.

I hear the twins whine from the height of their tower, "Aw, way to go Astrid. You got in the way! We were gonna show you what fried chicken looks like."

Their snickers mean nothing to her, however. Gracefully and unperturbed, as though the battle had only been a brisk walk around the island, she slips a single misplaced strand of flaxen hair out of her face and proceeds to lend me her hand.

"You ok?" she asks plainly.

"Oh, I.. yeah. Yes. Well, I am now... uh... thanks, A-Astrid, that was, uh―"

Though, as I stumble to piece together a cohesive reply, it seems her concern for me has exceeded its warranty. She's already charging back out into danger, axe held high, before I can even look up. And stupid and useless as I may feel, watching Astrid Hofferson single-handedly save the day from the fiery antics of the Thorston twins is the most I can do. Anything else would only be getting in her way, which is not a place anyone would want to be.

I almost envy her. And by almost I mean completely and entirely envy her.

Astrid is going to win the battle as Astrid. She's going to be top of the class, she's going to get all the respect, she's going to be a beloved hero and leader everyday of her life and she doesn't have to wear a mask. She's miraculous without a miraculous, and that's something I'll never be. Actually, what's funny is that I still believe that one day she'll actually talk to me. Notice me, you know, as like a person and not someone she has to constantly be leaping in front of flaming, flying hay bales to save because I'm in the way again.

I bet if I were Night Fury I could talk to her. She'd know I'm not that hopeless. And I could even keep up with her in these mock-battles. Heck― I bet the twins wouldn't throw hay bales at me, and Snotlout wouldn't tease me, and no one would exclude me from activities if they knew I was the Night Fury. How different things could be if they just knew how many times I've saved all their lives...

No one would expect the village hiccup to also be its greatest hero, though. So I must endure.

A few embers float down onto my shoulder, and I know the battle has been won. The twins crash down onto the unforgiving ground; evidence that Astrid has taken the tower and has kicked them off mercilessly. She stands above us all now with the other team's banner victoriously in her hands.

The hero.

"Well done, Astrid." Gobber applauds. He struts between the debris to survey the damage with an amused smirk growing beneath his mustache. There's several ballistas turned into nothing but cinder, two useless and shattered catapults, and a surplus of weapons thrown lackadaisically along the ground. The remains of today appear more like a Viking child's tantrum than a classic pirate raid.

We gather 'round for our assessment. Snotlout even was somehow able to put out the fires from his attire, and manages to crawl towards the group.

"You see how many hits I took without being killed? I mean, I'm like unstoppable. We should get a passing grade for that alone. You're welcome, everybody." he beams with unfathomable pride. Just like his father.

I almost chuckle at the comparison. Earlier this morning, Spitelout Jorgensen had been akumatized as Saewelo just because his pride had been hurt. A dangerous, egomaniacal, Vikingly-muscled villain then took his place and set fire to Berk. He too could swallow an array of our best attacks and still be standing. I would hate it if Snotlout ever became akumatized and followed in that family tradition as well.

"Well," Gobber begins, "The good news is the Blue Team was able to take out the enemy leaders and stop the assault. Nicely done, Astrid. The bad news is... if this were a real raid, there'd be nothing left of Berk to save. So, no. I wouldn't quite call today a complete success."

A unison moan emanates through all but the twins.

"Yeah! We demolished you guys!" Ruffnut snorts.

"That's right. We may have gone down, but we took all of you out with us. Team Thorston!"

"That's not fair." says Snotlout. "You guys had all that cool stuff, and... like you weren't up all night because your dad went all berserker and akuma-y and stuff. You guys slept right through!"

"Ah. The sweet ambiance of destruction. What better remedy to sleep through." Tuffnut sings.

"Yeah, well... the rest of my team didn't get their beauty sleep. Not me, I don't, like, need it or anything. I was born like this. But still. We're exhausted. So I call a redo."

Gobber clicks his tongue in dismay, beginning to pace before us. This is how I know a lecture is upon us.

"Ah-ah. There are no such things as redoes in real life, Snotlout. An enemy can strike at any time. Even in the dead of night. You'll need to be prepared to fight when you're half-asleep and feeling as dead as a Draugr. As many times as the Miraculous Night Fury and the Deadly Nadder have fought off enemy ships and akumatized berserkers, we can't all just sit around and wait for them to show up. It's not in our Viking nature to let someone else do all the work for us. Some day it's not just going to be a ship or two or Snotlout's father settin' the place ablaze. It might be the armada or the undead. Who knows. And we have to be ready to help our heroes, our Einherjar, fight them off. Even when we don't get our beauty sleep."

The others may begrudgingly accept their fates with tired and tedious groans, but I'm relieved if not comforted by Gobber's lecture. The zany, claw-handed man always has a way of reading people, knowing what's inside their hearts. Even the hearts of Berk's own heroes. And I can tell he knows how tired and pained Night Fury and Nadder are. Everyone else is too busy praising them or envying them, calling them Einherjar and immortals. But Gobber knows the truth. We're as much flesh and bone beneath our masks as they all are, and we tire just as easily.

For a moment, it almost feels like he's talking directly to me. To Night Fury. Letting me know that the tribe has my back and that it's ok to rest up sometimes. Even though there's no way he could know I'm Night Fury, perceptive as he is, I still appreciate it. I still am incredibly humbled by his words.

We're all dismissed until tomorrow, he says, where we'll definitely have to make up for today's catastrophe. The gang all trudges back across the bridge to the main island now that midday has come upon us. Up here, the sea breeze brings salt into our wounds and bitters are moods. But still, it's better than an island's full of flames and heavy smoke. The view of the sea and sky should all make us want to ponder on the deeper things. Our purposes or destinies, or, I don't know, maybe even reflect on our actions in the arena today. How we can better ourselves and make use of our skills.

Obviously such inwardly things are impossible for the rest of the group.

The twins lead the victory parade, inevitably starting another fruitless argument with poor Fishlegs who is way in over his head. Ahead, I hear Snotlout berating him. Accusing him of the reason for the failure.

"Well maybe if you actually did stuff instead of spouting useless facts all time, we could have won. Thanks a lot, Fishlegs."

"No, seriously," Tuffnut snickers, "Thanks a lot. Without your panic and uselessness, we'd not have been the conquerors of little Berk. Now this island is under the jurisdiction of the Thorston twins, and we shall rule with an iron fist."

Fishlegs admirably stands his ground against the trio, "Now hold on. You can't just blame me for everything that went wrong today. That's completely unfair. It should be a team effort. All I was trying to say that we should know how many catapults we had, and organize our efforts around dismantling them first. But, Snotlout, instead you just went charging in and ruined the element of surprise."

"No, no, no. Fishlegs, what you saw was my actually doing something. I took charge and went to kick the bad guys' butts while you were just talking about it. I mean, seriously, you were more useless than Hiccup today."

My breath catches a moment, but I just as quickly let it go. I am not even going to try and argue with Snotlout any more. Fishlegs appears to give up as well, grumbling between his teeth as well as must do when talking to a heated Jorgenson. His pace lessens and slowly he sinks to the back of our small Hooligan herd. But just slightly in front of me, there is a silent and pensive Astrid who couldn't care at all for the others' banter. She walks steady and slow, almost drawing each step out with intense thought.

Toothless delicately zips through my vest and perches just beside my ear.

"Aren't you gonna say something to her?" he asks. "Go on, go on. She's right there!"

My cheeks redden. He knows how much I want to. Snotlout and the twins are all busy blaming each other for everything that went wrong today. All preoccupied while Astrid, the lone beautiful blonde wolf, stands alone just in front of me. I'm hardly this close to her ever. I continue trailing further and further behind her as the moments continue, wanting to hide myself from the situation.

Toothless' eyes continue stare into me, daring me to do at least something. I scratch my neck, shrug my shoulders, shift through several quizzical expressions, but nothing comes to me. Nothing at all. I'm sure I could invent some new and incredible weapon down to every nut and bolt in the span of one sleepless night. But to come up with something that would grab Astrid Hofferson's attention?

I could maybe try and thank her again for saving my life back at the arena. I could maybe say something cool. Maybe even really cool―

But now I'll never know.

Any move I may or may not have made is now ruined by a thunderous Fishlegs careening towards me. He's a thick fellow, so I'm toppled over in an instant. Like a twig in the wind. Meanwhile his stomping parade rumbles all the way towards Snotlout, his feet quaking the very ground as he goes. I've never seen Fishlegs so angry or mighty in his life. I figure he's usually the sort to speak up, but then go cool off and recollect himself. Well, not this time it seems.

"Snotlout!" Fishlegs roars.

There's a terror in his voice. A kind of evil foreign to his character. As a wicked tingle snakes down my spine, I know something isn't right at all. Fishlegs' voice is deep and fierce, his body covered in armor, his very aura now strange and violent.

Oh, no.

Toothless and I share a serious look.

"Back for more, Fishlegs?" Snotlout flicks dirt away from his vest, unaware of the intense energy now emanating around Fishlegs.

"The name's not Fishlegs. It's Mastermind! And I'm going to show you how useless a corpse is on the battlefield. Your corpse."

He's been akumatized!

I immediately spring to my feet just as Fishlegs takes Snotlout fully into his grasp and lifts him high above his head. Taking count of the others around me, there's too many immediate witnesses, and no quick place to run and hide. I have to get home. Fast. Think of some kind of excuse. Altough, if the village screw up just started to run away in terror, would anyone really blink an eye at that?

Astrid's hand is nabbing at my wrist when she yanks me away from the scene before I can make a decision.

She always has to be the hero.

"Get out of here, Hiccup!" she orders as we dash towards the village. "Find cover and I'll take care of this."

"What? Are you nuts? That's a super-sized berseker villain guy. Why not wait for, I don't know, The Night Fury or Deadly Nadder?"

"They'll be here. In the mean time, I'll cover the villagers. You go tell Stoic and stay out of the way."

"Uh- right, right, of course-" She's gone before I can agree, her battle axe sported over shoulder. Before I can tell her how crazy it is and how amazing it is that she's prepared to fight an akumatized berserker. Her orders are more than good enough for me to leave the scene anyways. Just the kind of cover I needed.

She's right too. The Night Fury will be there to save the day. And he will have to repay her for saving him from a flaming hay bale back at the arena.

I do run to tell my father, of course, sprinting all the back home through village and fields. I'm out of breath in the doorstep and somehow manage to squeeze the news from my lungs to him. Stoic is already bolting out the door the moment he hears of the commotion. And I know that as I tired as I am now, I'll be rejuvenated in only a short moment.

Toothless flings himself from my vest, and together we nod knowingly. My best friend and I must unite once again to save our friends and our home. Being sore, tired, bruised, and even a little charred from this morning's fire mean nothing when the lives of those around us are at stake. It's the sacrifice that he, as a kwami, and I, as The Night Fury― a hero, a Valkyrie, a human being― must make.

"Toothless, fangs out!"

A/N:

Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed!

This has been posted on Ao3 for long enough, and I thought I'd share it with you all here. Not sure if this is just going to be a one-shot or a muti-chapter fic. Kind of think it's ok on its own. But at any rate, let me know if you would want to see more or if I should let it be. Thank you again and have a wonderful, miraculous day!

- Raving