Straight and Level

The serried ranks of stratus and nimbus fall away beneath the young Fury as he climbs ever higher into the late evening sky. His wings are fully grown now, their membranes properly toughened, and after months of low-level training his flight muscles are strong. Despite the severity of this last test, he will reach the thin airs tonight.

Everything must be timed to perfection. Efficiency is the key, and right now he's focussed on matching deep, regular breaths to each full sweep of his wings. It's traditional for the final test to be done after dark, and for this he's grateful: at night the air down low is cooler and denser, letting him take in more oxygen with each breath. It is the only concession he can expect tonight.

His two witnesses fly on either wing, invisible to his eyes in the gloom but clearly tangible in his mind. They stay well separated, sure to offer him not the slightest lift. Silently the three climb forever upward, smooth and steady, permitting no loss in altitude and no pause for recovery. The ascent has already lasted a full hour, but he knows he must conserve as much strength as he can for what is to come.

At long last he feels it, the change miniscule but distinctly there, and his blood thrills. As his wings start to lose their purchase on the sky, he makes the first of the stepped changes needed to continue the climb into the rarefied airs: a slight increase in the angle of attack, a subtle quickening in his wingbeats and respiration, a tiny flaring of his mid and tail fins. Now that the Thinning has started, the test will be relentless.

Ten minutes later and his wings are working about as hard and fast as he thinks they can. The strain is beginning to tell; already he's shunted most of his blood to his heart and flight muscles, and the minimal amount he's allowed his brain makes his vision blur. He's so high that the meagre atmosphere can no longer supply his needs, so he prepares to tap into the stores of oxygen-rich blood in his spleen and liver. The effect will be to give his ailing muscles a short boost, but the reserve will quickly be depleted. He must time this moment precisely to complete the test and reach his ceiling.

Surely there must be a sign soon? It will only take a moment to inspect his left wing. At last he dares to glide for a second, struggling to control the wing-tremble after his exertions. With delight and enormous relief he picks up the faintest of reflected glimmers in the starlight. The rime has started to form.

The moment is upon him. Releasing the blood store he pumps his wings with fresh vigour, sprinting all out for the finish. A small part of him notes with grim satisfaction that his companions are struggling to keep up, but there can be no hesitation now. The Rimeflight test will only be complete when an unbroken ice-trace is seen to form along the leading edges of both of his wings.

At last his reserves are spent; he has tried his utmost, and can do no more. It's time to see if he's met the mark. He ceases his crazy flapping and locks both wings at full extension, slicing through the rarefied atmosphere faster than he's ever flown before. A nervous glance to left and right, and there, incredibly, his eyes pick up the glint of ice extending in a thin but seamless line along his wing-edges from root to tip. The others join him, and for a few seconds, three gleaming pairs of perfect scimitars ride the thinnest of airs at the highest limits of endurance. Below them lies a gentler arc, the rim of the world and the ground to which they must now reluctantly return.

As the ice sublimes to vapour he begins the descent, easing his aching body into a gentle glide, allowing his muscles to begin their recovery. Below, way down there, the clan awaits. Soon there will be songs to be sung, food to be sought out, duties and responsibilities. But he thinks they'll rest lighter on his wings now. Somehow, these brief moments of exaltation have put everything into perspective.

Almost back. The air down here feels like syrup to him now, clogging and limiting. He'll want, no, he'll need to ride the thin airs again soon.

It's as he nears the pinetops that he feels the change. A sudden spasm, cause unknown, a loss of control that's immediate and alien. With a jab of horror he realises that he can't stabilise the roll. Panicked, he quickly checks his wings, his mid-fin, his tail fin...

His tail fin!

The trees hurtle up to meet him. As he smashes heavily through, trying to glide despite the pain but still rolling, momentary images flash past. A strange cove's sandy floor, a shallow lake, an odd lean-to structure of... human design? The impact, right n...

::Oh, so there you are. The famous damaged Night Fury.::

The new voice penetrated from without. I raised my head from the dirt and forced my eyes to open, dismayed to realise that I'd fallen asleep while awaiting Hiccup's return. Perhaps this was the onset of the insanity at last.

Then it hit me. Someone had discovered me here!

Scrambling up, I shook off the remains of my reverie. An unknown female Fury circled over the cove, and for some reason, agitation immediately sparked inside me.

::Who are you? Speak quickly!::

She replied calmly in the common speech, the intonation measured and even, carrying no hint as to her clan.

::Please, Fury, don't worry about that. There are more important things that we need to speak of, you and I.::

I sensed that she wouldn't be swayed by any disquiet on my part. And she had the advantage of being flighted. In any case, her next words changed everything.

::We need to talk about Hiccup.::

::Hiccup? What have you done to him? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?::

Losing all self control, I let off a ragged bolt at her. She lifted a wing and the blast slid harmlessly by. She continued to circle, completely unruffled.

::Please calm down. Hiccup is fine. But you have started something unusual here, you and your human. The connection between you has... sent out ripples, of a sort. They have not gone unnoticed.::

It was impossible to detect either criticism or approval in her tone, merely curiosity.

::I see that you have altered him now. You do know he may choose to repay the favour some day? If he does, I hope you'll be ready.::

::He has already altered me,:: I returned, flicking my tail. ::I got over it.::

::Ah yes, your fin. A bit superficial in the wider scheme of things, I'm afraid. Come now, Fury. You of all dragons should know that all of the important changes happen on the inside.::

There was no easy reply to that. Silence settled for a moment, but the strange visitor seemed in no hurry to leave. She turned a few lazy aerobatics, seeming to taunt me with the very manoeuvres I once knew and loved so well.

::You're a strange one, Fury. You've seen by now what Hiccup has in mind for you, but if anything, your devotion to him strengthens further still! I wonder if you've even thought this through properly. If the boy succeeds, what will that make you? Half dragon, half machine, forever demeaned by these fragile contraptions? The permanent burden of a human child in the sky! Most of your kind would choose death rather than pay this price.::

I didn't have to think about that one, and I replied in an instant.

::I've already decided. I'll pay it gladly.::

On hearing that, she returned immediately to level flight.

::Actually, I was hoping you might say something like that.::

More silence. I wondered if she was being deliberately obscure; certainly she was starting to irritate me. Perhaps she sensed it, because her next words were delivered in more genial tones.

::You intend to speak with him. Let me ask you, then... just how do you think that will go, exactly?::

::Ermm... you know, it would help me tremendously if you were just a little more specific...::

She let out an exasperated snort.

::Oh, come on, Fury! Think about it. His kind lost the ability to speak as we do a long, long time ago. All they have now is feeble acoustics! They know nothing of the ways of the dragon clans. Worse still, all of them, and I do mean all, think that they're some kind of master species! Such blissful ignorance...::

She became lost for a moment in her own musings.

::The way they cultivate their conceit is really rather quaint, you know. One could make a study of it. Nasty by-products, of course... the arrogance, the constant desire to dominate... I guess we could all do without those...::

I let out a sharp bark, trying to bring her back on topic. She resumed her argument with hardly a pause, but there was a new edge to her voice.

::So then you come along and bump into possibly the only human who might be ready to see things differently. You're getting along famously, cod, scratches, tailfin, the full works. And then you decide to go rummaging around in your human's mind, flick a little switch...::

Oh, no. Oh no, no, no. She didn't have to continue, but she did anyway.

::...and any moment now his poor, poor brain is going to be full of Night Fury this, Dragon Culture that, and For Pity's Sake Please Learn These Aerodynamics Right Now. How do you think he'll react? How would you react?::

I hung my head, but her next words were more conciliatory.

::Oh, don't beat yourself up, kiddo. I'm not here to give you a hard time. Well... mostly not. There are some things you've not considered. You need to understand them, and quickly.::

OK, so I was paying attention again.

::How long have you been grounded? Can you remember?::

::Erm... it's been fifteen days now, I think...::

::All right then. And before you arrived here, how long did you ever know a flightless dragon to keep sane?::

::Well...::

::Three days? Four, occasionally?::

She was needling me again. ::Yeah. Four days, at most.::

::And yet here you are, walking and talking, and distinctly not insane. Some sort of über-dragon, are we?::

I was fed up with her smug questioning. Clearly she already had all of the answers.

::Your point, please? And then, kindly leave. This hole's already taken. Go find your own.::

::The fabled Night Fury spirit alive and kicking, I see. Very well. By all that we know, you ought to be dead...::

::Thank you for summing that up.::

::...but something is staying your madness. The possibilities are somewhat limited.::

I began to see where she was going. Why hadn't I thought of it before?

::It's... it's Hiccup, isn't it? All this time together, there's some mechanism, something that's been set in motion...::

::It must be him, yes. Exactly what's going on is unclear, but somehow this human is protecting you. How do you feel when he's not here?::

The stark question hit hard. I bit back my pride, deciding that honesty was my best course at this point. The words that came out surprised me, but even as I spoke them I realised them to be true.

::Terrible. Empty. Like a part of me's been bitten off.::

Did she blink then, falter for a moment in her flight?

::Huh. You don't say. And it's a safe bet he feels just the same way about you. He didn't need much persuading to spend the night here, did he? Made himself right at home.::

This also was true.

::It seems you two have stumbled on something old, something important, to do with dragons and humans. Whatever it is, it must be allowed to play out naturally in its own fashion, its own time. You know the way of it: "Nothing forced and misunderstood...::

::... can ever be beautiful." Yes, I know, I know. We all know the saying.::

::It seems you have a little time yet, Fury. Use it to find an easier path for your human. You need to let him come to you.::

::I... I don't know how...::

::Think, dragon, think! I cannot direct you: the solution must come from within you. What are Night Furies good at? Apart from plasma bolts and ill-considered mental shenanigans, that is? You need to play to your strengths!::

::But...::

::Just do it right!::

Something like a midsummer heat haze appeared around the strange Fury's form. Her outline blurred and shimmered, becoming fuzzy and indistinct. In a moment she was no more solid than a puff of woodsmoke blown on the wind, and an instant after that she was gone. But I had no opportunity to dwell on our encounter, as in that same moment I caught the unmistakable sound of Hiccup's footfalls on his way to the cove. He would be here in less than a minute.

The sound that should have filled me with joy instead set my mind racing with something close to panic. Think, Toothless, think! What are Night Furies good at?

Unsurpassed in flight...

The most respected of healers...

The most beautiful songs...

My friend burst into the cove, carrying the usual basket of fish. Prancing up to him, I couldn't hold back a croon of happiness. He dropped the creel and we greeted each other in our customary way, snout to palm, before his fingers slipped under my jaw, scratching lightly. The widest smile I'd ever seen spread across his face before my eyes lidded in ecstasy.

"Feeling better, huh? I missed you too bud, I missed you too. So, what first? Fish, or another go at flying on the rope? I think I'm starting to get there, really I do..."

He glanced over to where the saddle and the rest of my rig lay stowed under a clump of bracken, and as he looked away, I took my chance. I held in mind an image of my clan's favourite sea-cave nest, secret and secure, beautifully scented with ozone and sea-pinks. As the whickers of the Fury hatchlings mingled with the wave-laps, I started to sing out the lullaby we sometimes used to calm the youngsters, preparing them for sleep in the pre-dawn. Only this time it was a song without words, a melody inaudible to any ear, and a tune meant for my friend and my friend alone.

Hiccup paused, glancing uncertainly over his shoulder at me. His eyes glazed over and as his knees buckled, I let him collapse over my snout, lowering him gently to the ground. I hadn't expected it to be so quick.

::I'm so sorry Hiccup. Just this one time, I promise...::

And as I curled around him once more I never stopped singing the tune that distilled all of my hopes for our futures, the joy of shared flights to come, and everything that our strange partnership had come to mean to me.

And after a while, by some small miracle, hesitant and fragmentary at first, he began to sing it back to me.

::Welcome to the world, my friend.::

::t... t... tooootth...::

::Easy, easy...::

::...m I dreamin?...::

::In a way. Stay like this for a while, if you like.::

::...naa... wanna fly...::

His left leg started to twitch slightly, and I realised he was running through the different pedal positions to control my fin.

::Oh, like this, you mean?::

And then I let him take from me an image of two Furies darting about the sea stacks off some wild Atlantic coast. Against a backdrop of salmon-pink granite splashed with campion the dragons turned to hang suspended on the updraft with barely a twist of their wings, before folding them and dropping like stones. As one they snapped to straight and level just above the waves, skimming the crests.

This time Hiccup's reply was mumbled out loud, and his eyes began to crack apart.

"Yesss... just like that..."

::It's closer than you think. I'd like to show you. Open your eyes, and see.::

::You want to do what?::

"A barrel roll! I fixed the rig specially!"

::Hiccup, the last time we tried that, you lost your breakfast. When dragons vomit it's cute. With humans... not so much.::

"I know, I know, but I want to try..."

::We are going to get very wet. Again.::

"Toothless, you're drip-dry. And I've got spare clothes back at the cove."

::You'll catch a cold, and then we'll be grounded. Again.::

"Scaredy-dragon."

::Oh right, that is IT!::

This time we made it to fully inverted before plunging headlong into the waves.

A/N: Well, that's it at last. Hope you liked it! 'Learning Curve' finishes here, but my story 'A Dragon's Gift' is set in the same universe, and has some similar themes. It has a later time setting and focusses on Astrid and her dragon.

I borrowed (OK, stole) the mind speech formatting from FjordMustang. Thank you Fjord, and I hope you don't mind!

And *thank you* to everyone who reviewed. Your comments are so encouraging and helpful.

The dragons' maxim is from Xenophon. I'd like for you to think I discovered it by myself, but instead I must credit a friend, who happens to be a very good horserider. The full quote is apparently quite well known in classical dressage circles:

"Anything forced and misunderstood can never be beautiful. And to quote the words of Simon: If a dancer was forced to dance by whip and spikes, he would be no more beautiful than a horse trained under similar conditions."