Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’re staying here.” Stoick’s voice is still a growl. It’s almost impressive how he manages that flat snarl for so long without it making his throat sore. Hiccup would appreciate it more if he weren’t so terrified. “Until I tell you to come out and. You. Will Listen. I have another mess of yours to clean up. I expect you here when I’m back.”

And if I’m not, bubbles in his throat, desperate and hysterical. Hiccup swallows it, biting his lip. His hands are shaking. He can’t remember when that started. It happens a lot, though – the knots in his stomach, the shaking in his hands every time Stoick starts talking. Uh, usually every time he sees him, actually.

“What are you doing to Toothless?” It comes out almost unintended, but comes out, anyway.

Stoick shoves him.

He should’ve seen that coming, but he didn’t, and topples backwards, falling sideways and tries to catch himself. Pain, raw and blinding, spears through his arm, and he falls sideways with a muted, muffled cry. That’s the one that broke, and he somehow forgot. He forgot he broke his arm?

Stoick looks surprised at his own actions, but not at all regretful. Or maybe he’s just surprised at how easily Hiccup crumpled like a torn, useless peace of parchment. “You’ll remember your place as my son.”

Hiccup hears the door slam. He flinches at the sound.

“Don’t hurt him,” he whispers desperately, voice unheard by the dark, empty walls. “Please don’t hurt him.”

A true Viking would be willing to get up and fight. Hiccup’s just lying here, stars dancing in his vision, completely and utterly useless.

But he asked for this, didn’t he?

“Take this out on me, me mad at me”?

He groans again, stars everywhere. Presses his usable hand to his head to shake the stars against the pounding in his skull. Did he hit his head? Again? Maybe. He doesn’t remember, but he probably did. He does that a lot.

Not that it matters. Stoick is so angry. He’s not going to let this go, he’ll… Hiccup has no idea what he’ll do. He’s never seen his father so angry before. Stoick often gets edgy, at least with Hiccup – he’s rarely seen his father raise his voice on anyone else. It fills him with a sort of helpless, desperate fury. (Why is Hiccup that unimportant? Is he really that irritating? Useless?)

He has no idea when he’s ever going to see Toothless again, or if they’re hurting him. They could be, and what could Hiccup do to stop it? His voice is, as always, unheard.

Thor, his ribs ache. Falling a few times isn’t doing them any favors. The Monstrous Nightmare didn’t, either. The bruising must look awful, but he’s not looking. His arm is swollen to something awful. Hiccup doesn’t know how long he stays there, lying on the floor, stars dancing in his vision before he picks himself up and limp-crawls up the stairs. He falls a few times.

His room looks dark and empty, staring back at him accusingly. His notes of the saddle, of Toothless sit there innocently. What he wouldn’t give to be back there, to last night. He had no idea that would be the final moment of freedom in his life.

His last moments with his first and best and only real friend – with Toothless. He should have left. Why did he go after Astrid? He had the chance to show her the truth, and he jumped on it instead of leaving like he should have. Astrid gave him hope. He wishes she didn’t. This wasn’t her fault. It – doesn’t matter who’s it is, actually, because Toothless is still out there and Hiccup has no idea what they’ve done to him.

“What did I do?” Hiccup whispers, the dark, empty walls staring back all he has in answer. What’s he going to do? Just lay down? He is tired, after spending hours up last night with Astrid and Toothless, but what’s he supposed to do? Sleep while Toothless is caged and in chains?

His dad didn’t kill him on sight, which is something, but they chained and muzzled him and dragged him off. Hiccup has no idea where. Arena, probably, but what are they doing to him?

He can’t leave him there.

Stoick’s gonna be so, so angry.

He’s shaking when he hits the floor again.

Please, just don't hurt Toothless.

***

“No,” Hiccup says for the tenth time in exhausted but fierce denial, shoving the bowl away. It’s impressive how concerned Gobber looks for scowling so fiercely. “I’m not hungry.”

“It’s just one bowl of your favorite, and you won’t even touch it?”

It floods him with a smother sense of frustration – Gobber came all the way to his house to check on him. It’s been hours, but he came. Stoick didn’t Stoick never does. Sometimes (always), it feels like Gobber gives him more care than his own father. And he’s the only parent Hiccup has. “What did you do to Toothless?” Hiccup asks instead.

“The Night Fury’s caged in the arena.”

He bites his lip again, staring unhungrily at the bowl. He tastes blood. It’s gross. His lips are full of tiny bite marks, and they hurt. He should stop gnawing on them. “Has he eaten?” he asks quietly.

Gobber sighs tiredly, like Hiccup’s giving him a migraine. He tries not to bite again. “You know we have to keep him muzzled. He’s a Night Fury.”

He digs his palm into his forehead. Fingers tangle into his hair and yank. The pain is jarring, but he wants to scream. It builds in his throat. Night Fury, Gobber says, like the word is a curse and some contagious disease instead of the best thing in Hiccup’s life. “Gobber, he’s not dangerous,” Hiccup tries. Cold and shaky, pleas tumbling out at an embarrassing rate. It’s no wonder Stoick is as disgusted with him as he is with himself.

Vikings don’t beg.

But Hiccup’s not really a Viking.

“Sure, Hiccup.” He says it like he’s indulging a little child.

It infuriates him when that’s not fair – at least Gobber is here. Stoick hasn’t come back. Hiccup is planning to be safely hidden in his room when he does. He is terrified to face Stoick again. It’s almost irrational, but it’s a fear nearly as great as when he first met Toothless. That day in the woods. “You saw what I did in the arena,” Hiccup says flatly, “You were there. Everyone was.” He sighs and shakes his head. They chained Toothless. Hiccup never wanted to see him like that again.

He saw him in the woods, when Toothless had been as terrified as Hiccup was of him, so still and quiet and motionless in the trap Hiccup shot him down with. A side of his best friend Hiccup never wanted to see again. The part that could be scared. He’d been so skittish. He must be even more, now. Muzzled, chained – trapped in one of those cages? It’s…

“Are you crying?” Gobber asks incredulously.

Hiccup swings his arm out, shoving the bowl away and jumping off the bench that Gobber somehow coaxed him into sitting on. “If your best friend got muzzled and chained and thrown into a cage, you’d be pretty upset, too!” he yells back. He turns his back on Gobber, shoulders shaking as he tries to breathe. He’s not actually crying, but it’s close enough, tears burning his eyes like changewing acid.

Gobber’s human hand pats his shoulder. “He’s a dragon. Hiccup.”

He doesn’t understand. No one does. Astrid, even, right after, was all on board with killing them. Or at least putting Toothless in danger.

“Hiccup, we just discovered the Dragons' Nest. The thing we've been after since Vikings first sailed here. And you want to keep it a secret? To protect your pet dragon? Are you serious?!”

Yee. He’d do anything for Toothless. He’s worth it. He’s worth everything.

“They’re not what you think they are,” escapes a quiet whisper.

“Sure.”

He wants to cry in helpless frustration. “Why does no one hear me?”

“Do you even hear yourself? ‘The dragons aren’t our enemies’?”

Hiccup spins around to face him with every shred of his exasperation. “Of course, I do! The Monstrous Nightmare attacked because it felt threatened. It’s been caged for days. It was just trying to escape. They all were. How do you think I got so good in the arena?”

“I guess that answers where you were every day.”

If he’s not attacking, it’s a plus. It’s… well, it’s better than Stoick at any rate, and at least he’s not shoving an axe in his face like Astrid did, so… “Please just try to get Toothless something to eat,” Hiccup requests at last.

Gobber looks him over. He looks sympathetic in the candlelight. He doesn’t say anything.

Hiccup goes back upstairs, food untouched.

***

He sleeps, wakes, then sleeps again before he finally wakes, too exhausted to move but too awake to lay here a minute longer, left arm mostly asleep from where he’s been lying on it. He took the floor. It’s freezing but he couldn’t bundle under a blanket when Toothless doesn’t even have a fire to keep himself warm.

Hiccup pulls himself from the bed, stares longingly at the sketches of Toothless at his bedside, and goes downstairs. Toothless is trapped there. He must be terrified, and Hiccup isn’t going to turn his back on him.

Stoick will try to stop him.

Hiccup doesn’t care anymore.

This is Toothless.

He tries the back door. His… runaway collection is still in the woods when he dragged it out. Never had the chance to come back after Astrid. But yeah, when he shoves, the door doesn’t budge, and Hiccup nearly rolls his eyes in exasperation when he realizes it was boarded over. Of course, it was. Gobber didn’t come over yesterday just to feed him.

Stoick’s really trying to keep him tight, isn’t he?

If somebody sees him going, well –

Hiccup shoves the front door open, anyway, blinking at the bright sunlight and fresh air. Berk looks… at always. Bustling. Vikings.

Dragon-haters.

Every single one of them.

“Hey.”

Hiccup looks up to see Snotlout of all people leaning against the wall of a nearby house, arms crossed, the perfect picture of utter misery.

“Hey,” Hiccup greets, brow furrowing, “What are you doing?”

“My dad put me on babysitting duty.” He pouts, visibly cranky.

“On what?”

“I’m supposed to watch you.”

“Me? Who told you that?” Is Stoick honestly kidding him? He’s going this far to keep Hiccup locked inside his own house that he’s even going to put the entire village on babysitting duty? So much for his glorious image he’s so afraid of being ruined.

“My dad!” Snotlout protests. “He thinks you’ll, uh, what was that yesterday?”

“The Night Fury?” Hiccup guesses tiredly, exhaustion renewably nagging at every muscle.

“Yeah, and the Nightmare, you…?”

This is Snotlout. He’s only going to make fun of him, because everyone will, but… he owes it to Toothless to tell the truth. “I… dragons aren’t what we thought they were,” Hiccup spells out finally, “How do you think I won every time? I’m not a fighter. Everyone knows that. But everything I’ve seen with Toothless…”

Snotlout is watching him. He’s not talking. It’s weird. Hiccup thought he would laugh in his face like he always does, but he… hasn’t?

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Hiccup demands. He’s not upset, exactly, but he also – this… what is he thinking?

“Uh, conversation right now requires way too much thought,” Snotlout offers.

It’s not the usual mocking that Hiccup anticipated, but somehow it hits him even worse. He’d rather be laughed at than knowing that someone isn’t listening altogether. Oh, he’s not surprised, but it still hurts. Hiccup doesn’t say anything, either. What is he supposed to say?

Out from between the lines of houses, Astrid’s form appears. Her face pinches with concern when she sees him. It makes him wonder what he looks like. Awful, probably. “Hey.” She looks from Hiccup to Snotlout. “Mind if I borrow him a while?”

Snotlout shrugs, brightening, though it’s probably another one of his fake, flirty smiles that makes Hiccup want to smash his face into the nearest inanimate object. The only thing that makes Hiccup feel a little better about his own lack of dating and everything – the first and only person who’s kissed him in his life was Astrid a couple days ago – is that his cousin’s sucks just as badly. It’s awful that it makes him feel better, but if he had to see that, he thinks he’d lose it entirely. “Sure, honey.”

Astrid punches him in the face.

He goes down with a yelp.

Astrid loops her arm through Hiccup’s and drags him off, peaking around to make sure they’re safely in a quiet alley.

“What’s going on?” Hiccup asks, immediately picking up an almost characteristic sense of urgency.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she replies, “About the dragons, and about you. I mean, you must feel horrible. You’ve lost your best friend, and being imprisoned in your own home?”

“Thank you for summing that up,” Hiccup throws back with a whole new level of sarcasm. He’s not bragging, but he almost thinks he deserves a medal of some sort – this is insane. The desperate frustration is smothering him, and if everyone’s already keeping their eyes on him, it’s only going to get worse. “Why couldn’t I have killed that dragon when I found him in the woods?” he bursts out, even if he knows he really doesn’t mean it. “It would have been better for everyone.”

“Yep,” Astrid agrees without missing a beat. “The rest of us would have done it. So why didn’t you?”

Hiccup pauses. He doesn’t know how to say it, honestly. He saw Toothless there, so still and scared, and the thought of hurting him was horrifying. He was just a creature, alone and helpless, and as scared as Hiccup is every moment of his life. “I don’t know,” he manages finally. “I couldn’t.”

“That’s not an answer.” Astrid’s voice is gentle but firm.

“Why is this so important to you all of a sudden?”

“Because I want to remember what you say, right now”

“Oh, for the –” he cuts himself off. Astrid doesn’t deserve him yelling at her when she’s the first human friend he’s ever had, and Thor, this is what his dad says whenever he’s angry. He’s turning into Stoick. And the last thing he ever wants is to become his dad. “I was a coward!” Hiccup yells, anyway. “I was weak. I wouldn’t kill a dragon!”

“You said ‘wouldn’t’ that time,” Astrid points out.

“Whatever, I wouldn’t! Three hundred years, and I’m the first Viking who wouldn’t kill a dragon.”

“First to ride one, though. So…?”

Hiccup sighs. No way out, then. She’s good at getting her way. He’s a coward, that’s why. Because he couldn’t kil Toothless and have that face staring at him in his head forever, knowing he’s the one who hurt him. “I wouldn’t kill him because he looked as frightened as I was,” he spells out finally. “I looked at him, and… I saw myself.”

“I bet he’s really frightened now. What are you going to do about it?”

Break him out, he wants to say, because that’s the only choice he has. “Probably something stupid.”

“Good. But you’ve already done that.”

“Then something crazy.”

“That’s more like it! So, what’s your plan?”

“I have to find the cage Toothless is in, and get him out. I’m gonna need a diversion. Someone to cause some noise, or something to draw eyes.”

“You’ll never be able to make to the arena. Not without getting caught. You can barely make it out of your own home” Astrid nods over her shoulder to the house, and where they’re already getting glances. This isn’t good. But nothing’s going to be good until he can see Toothless again.

“They’ll be watching me, but they won’t be watching you,” he points out, “If you get Toothless to me, I can fly him out.” They’ve started walking, Hiccup creeping towards the end of the street, trying to gauge the best, fastest way to make it out when Astrid instinctively grabs his arm to drag him back from being run over by some nearby rushing Viking.

Hiccup bites his tongue to withhold a cry of agony.

“Sorry.” Astrid releases him the second they’re safe. “I didn’t – was that your arm? I…”

Yeah, from when you broke it, he wants to throw back in her face. He doesn’t. “It’s fine,” he answers instead, body still shaking. He’s so cold still. He can’t move his arm much – most of the time – but it’s fine unless it’s touched, and even the brush of it against his sleeve is agonizing.

“You are not,” Astrid snaps. “Did you see Gothi? I thought you’d go to her after we got back.”

“I didn’t, I just, uh – fell.” He fumbles, desperate to concoct a believable excuse.

Astrid slaps a hand to her forehead. “Hiccup, I cannot believe you! You broke your arm two days ago, and you haven’t even had the thing wrapped? Or anything?”

“I said I –” he starts just as heatedly when he realizes that, actually yeah, it has been two days. No wonder it’s so inflamed. “Yeah,” he confirms with a sigh, “I guess it’s been a while.”

Astrid groans. “Okay, I guess breaking Toothless out is gonna hafta wait another day.”

“What? No, we can’t leave him there!”

“You can’t fly when you can’t use your arm!”

He’s so stupid.

Hiccup closes his mouth and lets Astrid lead him off.

***

He shouldn’t drag Astrid into this. Hiccup doesn’t know what he was thinking now. Too reasonable, maybe. Gothi wraps his arm, orders him to let it rest, and to get some rest. Hiccup takes off when no one’s looking.

He needs – he needs to get to Toothless. No one would expect him to be out with Gothi. He has to get out. To get Toothless out. He has to try. He knows Berk well, knows all the backway alleys, and… he tries.

He has everything he needs out in the woods. All he needs is to get Toothless out. But still, he makes it no further than into the nearby area when a hand grabs the back of his shirt, yanking him back.

Hiccup squeaks faintly, going limp as he always does until he’s put down. And when he is, he comes face to face with Spitelout.

Oh, Hiccup thinks, heart beating a stuttering flux. He’s screwed. “Oh,” Hiccup offers sweetly, trying to force a smile over the panic definitely probably showing all over his face. “I… forgot my helmet.”

Spitelout looks at him. For a moment, he doesn’t move, and then he grabs Hiccup’s non-bandaged arm and starts hauling him back the other way.

“Whoa, whoa, let go,” Hiccup whines, struggling against the hand far bigger than his arm. Harder, when his other is in a cast and sling. “I’ll just be right back there.”

Spitelout doesn’t say anything. Hiccup wishes he would. Yell, hit him, something, because he – yeah, he knows where he’s going, and Hiccup cannot see Stoick again. Not today. He needs to get Toothless out. He wishes someone would yell at him, shout, hit him – something. Anything – he hates quiet more than anything. He fights most of the way until his uncle stops somewhere on the far side of the village, throwing Hiccup very ingloriously at Stoick’s feet.

“I caught him trying to find the dragon,” he says flatly. Hiccup struggles to his feet, wincing at the aching in his arm, and could people stop throwing him? What’s this, three times in two days or so? Uh, maybe four? Not counting Astrid.

“I was –” Hiccup tries, mind scrambling. He feels dizzy and lightheaded, and his hands are freezing. He wants to cry already. Stoick is exactly what he didn’t want to see before he left, and he’s awful because his dad is the only person left alive, and Hiccup was still going to leave him here without saying goodbye.

Because he’s a coward and he can’t face him again.

“Trying to find my helmet,” he squeaks.

Stoick is looking at him. He can feel all the eyes on him, and resolutely doesn’t look up from his toes.

“We can’t leave him unattended.” Thanks a lot, Spitelout.

“He’s my son,” Stoick says steely, “I will deal with him.”

Deal. With? Like he’s some kind of object or problem that needs to be dealt with?

Should’ve waited for Astrid.

Stoick yanks him up by the front of his tunic and drags him off. Hiccup yelps ungracefully, tears pricking helplessly at his eyes. Toothless needs his help, and Hiccup can’t – he can’t… From here, the trip back to their house only takes a few minutes or so, but it still feels like forever.

Hiccup squirms against him, but he still doesn’t get away, not until Stoick reaches the front door of their house, yanks it open hard enough the hinges themselves scream in protest, and throws Hiccup inside.

Here they are. Back again.

Hiccup backs away, brain scrambling to think of the nearest path to run, even if he knows he can’t because wherever he goes, his dad with always catch him. It’s hard to think just a few days ago, he was free, flying with Toothless. He should’ve left before his dad ever got back. “Dad, I wasn’t, I swear, I –”

“Enough!” Stoick yells, and Hiccup instinctively snaps his jaw shut, flinching back. “Don’t you see I have other, more important problems to deal with?” he shouts. “I don’t have time for all this!” He gestures fiercely in Hiccup’s direction. “You can’t follow the simplest of orders, and now you turn your back on the very thing that makes us who we are?”

“What, dragon murders?” Hiccup snaps back, his own ire rising. Yeah, backtalking is the worst thing he can ever do, but hey, he’s known for being stupid anyway, so… “’cuz we have to kill to make ourselves feel special? Isn’t that kind of a little olden day and pathetic?”

He really knows he screwed up when Stoick goes still, but his eyes are burning. He only gets like that when he’s on the verge of murder, and he might as well be, when he’s locked Toothless somewhere. Alone and caged and muzzled. “Those beasts killed your mother,” he says icily.

Any words about to throw back out die on his lips.

Yeah. He knows. He heard the stories. And it makes him sick to know that she was probably fed to Red Death like everything else. “That wasn’t Toothless,” he says finally.

“You aren’t worthy of that helmet. You’re not a Viking.”

It hits harder than a punch, but the helmet isn’t really what he’s all hung up about. Good to know Stoick heard that, though. “Yeah, but I’m still the first person to ride a dragon.”

“Do you not realize what you’ve done?” Stoick demands, “Berk is on the brink of collapse. People are calling for your head, and if you weren’t their future chief, it would be best for everyone to hand you over.” He’s pacing again, Hiccup slowly backing away, nails digging painfully into his palms, trying not to overly listen, trying to think of something other than the hurt fury boiling in his chest.

Is he serious? Yeah, Hiccup’s pretty sure he’s serious. That if he weren’t his only son, he’d have him killed? “I tried –” he starts, but Stoick rounds on him before he gets the word out.

“No!” he yells, “You betrayed our way, you forgot your mother –”

“Or maybe I just remember that she hated fighting, too!” Hiccup yells back, voice rising with every word. He wants to cry. The lump in his throat is too thick to talk clearly through, and he hates himself for crying.

Stoick’s right. He’s not a Viking. He’s a coward. Vikings are warriors; they don’t get hurt all the time, they’re fighters and they don’t cry.

“You don’t even remember her!” Stoick shouts, “Those beasts killed her when you were still a baby.”

Except he does. Barely. But he remembers.

He remembers her face. Bits and pieces, flashes, mostly from stories, but… he remembers. Not that it means he knew her. He doesn’t. Because he doesn’t get to be normal, either. He doesn’t get a mom. Everyone does. Most Vikings remarry when their spouse dies.

Stoick never did.

Hiccup spent his whole life wishing he had.

Step-parents aren’t all fun. Stoick and Spitelout are a prime example of that. Stoick’s dad didn’t care about Spitelout at all. He wasn’t his son. Spitelout spent the rest of his life devoted to making his half-brother’s as miserable as possible, and that rivalry rolled right onto Hiccup and Snotlout.

He hates it. He hates how messed up it is, but hey, at least he’d have siblings.

Instead, he’s just alone.

All he has is his dad.

Who…

Is.

Stoick.

And is the Chief of Berk, who thinks of Hiccup as nothing more than the greatest irritation in his life, and would happily hand him over to being slaughtered by a bunch of rampaging Vikings. Apparently.

Astrid’s right. All he has now is her and Toothless.

Stoick goes back to pacing. He hasn’t hit yet, which is a miraculous plus. But he’s still angry, and he’ll often get…  well, he hits. A lot. Hiccup’s best shot is carefully backing away and disappearing into the shadows. “You’re going to Gobber first thing in the morning,” he says firmly. “I give you what you asked, and you turn it and me into a joke. There’s clearly only one thing you’re good that. Most of the time. Other than trying to burn our village down.”

Hiccup looks away, heart still pounding, the aching empty slot in his heart hurting even worse.

Back to the shop? Yay.

Chapter Text

He’s… hungry. Really hungry, but still stubbornly takes a drink of water upon Gobber’s firm insistence. He won’t eat.

Toothless has been there for days. Two days now. Straight. He’s the one in a cage. For all that it feels like Hiccup is, chained alone in a cage of darkness, it’s in his head. Toothless is the one being hurt. Because Hiccup, for all of his stupidity, couldn’t think of a way to save him.

He hasn’t come to the shop for anything other than the saddle since dragon training started.

It’s nauseating to be back here. To where it started, but mostly, to where all the dragon murder weapons are made. It’s revolting, and Hiccup feels an instant, desperate shame at the sight of all the weapons he helped create.

Gobber is just being… Gobber. He’s trying to act like nothing’s changed. Hiccup doesn’t help. He tries a few times, but trying to carry anything one-armed is impossible, and it’s a good enough excuse to slink away and try to carefully make it out the window when he’s not looking. Gobber drags him back in. Ne never get smore than a few feet away from the shop before Gobber somehow, inevitably, tracks him down.

 (As for Hiccup himself, he’s feeling increasingly dizzy, but they don’t need to talk about that.)

“Do you really need to make everything harder?” Gobber asks. Hiccup’s giving him infinite bonus points for managing too barely sound annoyed. He’s got an attitude, but it’s a perpetual one, and not Hiccup-direct. He hates that little part of him that always thinks Gobber is a much nicer dad.

“Why is no one listening to me?” Hiccup asks instead. “I’m right here, and no one even hears me, not even you.”

“Hiccup, everything about you has been not normal from the start.”

“But I’m right about Toothless. Just let me show you. Someone. Please.”

“That’s not my call to make, Hiccup.” He goes back to hammering.

Right, because Stoick is so much easier to talk to. He’s not looking forwards to getting hit again, actually, thank you – his ribs still ache. He thinks something’s sprained or maybe bruised or a little broken. The bruising is impressive. Thanks, Dad. You too, Astrid. Hiccup sighs tiredly. “He never listens to me.”

“He’s your dad,” Gobber says seriously, “That’s his job.”

“It’s his job never to listen to me? That made me feel much better.” Hiccup slumps in his seat, mind blanking out. He needs to get out of here.

***

Gobber drags him off to the Great Hall to eat with the other trainers, hands him off to Astrid, and goes to get some food for himself. Hiccup sits shakily. His hands are so, so cold. He feels…. Shaky. Sort of lightheaded. He carefully makes his way to the edge of the table, knows full well the others are here, but doesn’t care. His knees are shaking, and he’s not gonna make it all the way to the end.

Everything smells good.

Toothless can’t eat, either.

Astrid slides onto the table across from him. Her face pinches with worry. “You okay?” she asks in a low voice, the others climbing on.

Gothi gave him some herb stuff to drink. He actually doesn’t remember if he drank it. Hiccup shakes his head mutely, but doesn’t offer anything else. Astrid slowly reaches over to clasp his good wrist.

“If it isn’t the Night Fury trainer,” Snotlout snips, sliding onto the bench beside Hiccup. Astrid glares at him, but Hiccup doesn’t even have the sense of mind to appreciate her support.

He sighs miserably, slowly scooting away. “Not right now, please,” he requests.

Snotlout pushes a bowl at him, muttering something sassy Hiccup doesn’t listen to.

“No, that was really cool,” Fishlegs adds, already beside Astrid, “It actually listened to you.”

“It was really cool,” Ruffnut agrees, throwing a smirk at her brother, “Definitely better than Tuffnut, not that that’s a hard competition.”

Her twin unwarrantedly grabs her by the horn and smacks her face down into her bowl. Ruff yells in outrage and flings the remnants of her meal in her brother’s face. “Ohhh,” Tuff says blissfully. “That was new! I like it.”

Hiccup slowly edges his bowl down to Tuffnut when his sister steals his. Good excuse to get rid of it, hey? Plus, he breaks up another fight. So, success! Wow. He’s actually good at something. A little bit.

The other trainer’s mindless chatter flies around him, though he doesn’t miss the repetitive looks of worry Astrid keeps casting his direction. Hiccup tries not to feel self-conscious about as much as sitting here. They keep talking about him, try to talk to him. He doesn’t follow most of it.

But… they’re here. They’re still talking to him, and that’s more than he can say for just about anyone on Berk.

Astrid’s face is settling into something unhappy. “You aren’t eating?” she asks.

“Toothless has been muzzled for days; why should I eat?”

Everyone else at the table freezes. Tuffnut looks down, as if he just realized he’s borrowed Hiccup’s meal, and his face scrunches a little. Snotlout looks at Fishlegs, who’s humor and excitement die in a heartbeat. Hiccup tries to feel nothing. “You really care about that dragon?” Fishlegs asks.

 He actually asks. Like there was some chance that Toothless wasn’t the first friend Hiccup has ever had, that he

Like everyone is still in denial when he said it so plainly, that dragons aren’t what they think they are.

Hiccup shoves himself up, spinning around and turning his back on the table. “Why doesn’t anyone else?”

Because Toothless’s life only matters to him, he knows with a sort of crushing, strangling sensation he can never express. Just like his own. His shoulders hitch a little, shaking with fierce desperation. No one is listening.

Why does no one ever listen?

“We hear you, Hiccup,” Astrid says, standing, “But right now, most of us haven’t seen any reason to believe dragons are more than what we’ve been told to believe.”

“Did that make sense to you?” Tuff whispers.

Ruff shakes her head.

“And I can’t show you unless I get too Toothless.” He bites his lip, a frantic request bubbling up inside him, but it’s stupid and he’s going to get them killed. Hiccup starts turning around when another voice sounds from behind him.

“You know what your problem is, Hiccup?” Mildew asks mockingly, staff in hand, “The part where you thought anyone would believe you. ‘Dragons aren’t what we think they are’? And what do you know of what they are, boy?” He shoves the end of his staff at him pointedly, physically forcing him back a step.

His fists curl. “I know because I rode him. Toothless let me get close to him, touch him, ride him – dragons are the fiercest, loyalist creatures you’ve ever seen.”

Mildew scoffs. “Bah! They’re vicious, mindless beasts, boy. You survived the Night Fury because you got lucky, is all.”

Astrid’s jaw clenches as she glares.

Any other day, Hiccup would have caved like he always does, but after weeks and weeks of building frustration, he just can’t anymore. He should stop talking, because talking is worse, but everything Hiccup’s done from the start has made this worse. “Or maybe it’s that he’s loyal because I’m his friend.”

“Do you hear him?” Mildew cackles. It’s a grating sound that makes Hiccup want to burn his own ears out. “Dragons and humans? Friends? The only thing those beasts are good for is trophies.”

Hiccup jolts forwards. Astrid grabs his shoulder before he can throw punches. “Don’t,” she hisses firmly, “You’re just gonna make this harder.”

Yeah. ‘cuz all he ever does is make everyone’s problems worse. He doesn’t need the reminder.

“We don’t kill, they kill us,” Mildew scoffs.

He wants to yell at him. About the next, about everything, but talking is going to make to worse. He can’t spill that. They’ll use it against him, and the dragons. And Toothless. He says nothing instead but walks for the door, dizzy enough that steps are hard.

Astrid follows. The air outside is fresher somehow, and Hiccup feels like he can’t get enough of it, gasping in the icy air and letting it fill the burning in his lungs.

“Why are you following me?” Hiccup asks finally, when it dawns that she’s not shaking.

She sighs unhappily. “Chief’s orders. Someone’s supposed to have eyes on you at all times.”

What?

Spitelout’s idea.

Stoick’s orders.

The betrayal bubbles up fiercely. He can’t do anything without someone seeing? Why don’t they just lock him up, too? It’d be easier.

He’s just…

Trapped.

Like Toothless.

He needs help. They both do, and soon.

“I…” He sighs, shoulders slumping.

“Hiccup, I really think you should sleep.” Astrid’s voice is firm, but he’s already shaking his head. “If you’re going to run away, or take on that monstrous dragon or whatever, you need to be strong enough you’re not passing out every other step.”

“I’m not passing out.”

“No, but you’re about to. You’re so pale. You should see yourself.”

He doesn’t care to. He never looks in the mirror. He already knows he’s tiny, scrawny, and pathetic – why should knowing what his face looks like change anything? He’s not vain like Snotlout. “Just… try to find a way to Toothless, okay? I need a way in.”

***

The next day, he feels… off. Sitting all of last hasn’t helped at all. He’s even more sluggish than usual – maybe – when he gets up, nearly finds himself entertaining the idea of eating, and then…

Stairs are hard. They’re very hard, and he really has to climb down, only half standing, sinking somewhere midway and just sulking. He feels pathetic. He is pathetic, really, if he couldn’t keep Toothless safe. He’s a Night Fury. How hard can it be?

He’s going to find something here to break those stupid window bars, and he can climb down from there easily enough – he’s done it before. It used to be his favorite home exit when he was little, and Dagur –

Not going there.

Hiccup sits sullenly on the lowest step, fiercely blinking at the stars in his eyes and wondering how, in the name of Thor, he is getting sick. Really have to do that right now?

“Hiccup.”

He starts at the voice, mostly because it’s not a yell. “Dad! I – I thought you were already…”

“You got up early,” Stoick says.

He hopes he doesn’t look as awful as Astrid says. His dad will notice, and… ah, he should’ve run. “I went to bed early,” he answers vaguely, swearing to stay up into tomorrow night.

Stoick sighs. “Come here.”

He tries. He’s halfway there when the stars at his vision edges overwhelm him. Everything is white and black and dancing and his head is far away, ears ringing. Something hurts, though he can’t remember what or why. It’s just a thing radiating at him.

Hiccup opens his eyes. The house is lightish in the day, but the ceiling is blurred above him.

“- up! Son.”

That’s the first, he realizes distantly, Stoick’s called him son since this started.

Stoick’s face is above him. He helps him sit upright, and it’s so… surreal.

Nobody does this.

It doesn’t seem fair Stoick’s here for this the one time Hiccup doesn’t want anyone here.

Why is fate so cruel?

“Gobber mentioned you hadn’t been eating.” His dad’s disapproval shows so clearly in his voice. Always that disapproving scowl.

He groans softly, lifting his hand to his head. Augh, it hurts. Why does his head hurt? That’s not normal for not eating, is it? Well, not usually.

“I just need a drink,” he mutters, trying to get up.

Stoick lets him, still scowling disapprovingly when he sits back at the table. Hiccup very, very slowly slides on next to him, wishing he could be anywhere else. Yeah, say what he may, but Dad is probably on babysitting duty, too. That’s the only reason he’s here. He’s too busy to be here for any other reason ever.

He drinks. He’s… thirsty. He can’t stop thinking about Toothless. Toothless. He needs to…. get to Toothless…

“Son.” Stoick’s voice has him snapping back to present. “You still haven’t touched your food.”

“Oh, I…” His head spins. “I’m not eating.”

His face darkness with perpetual annoyance. “I don’t have times for your games this morning. You will eat and go to the shop with Gobber.”

“Do you not hear me?” Hiccup snaps back, trying to lift himself to his feet. It doesn’t work well when his head spins again at the movement.

“As your Chief and your father, I gave you an order –”

“And I said no!” Hiccup yells back. His voice cracks a little, and that he has to hold the table edge for support says nothing to improve his image. “What are you going to do, force feed me?”

Stoick looks seconds from punching him. Hiccup flinches back when his hand raises instinctively, but when he touches him, it’s only to grab the front of his tunic and shove him back into his chair. “Eat,” he orders firmly, “I’m not going to have you starving yourself over some silly notions.”

Silly – ?! “You took my best friend, muzzled him, threw him in a cage, and you expect me to pretend nothing happened? You’re going to kill him!” He turns his head away, hair hiding most of his face. He’s going to cry. A muffled, shaky, desperate sob bubbles up in his throat. Hiccup bites his lip stubbornly, trying not to let it out, because crying makes him thirsty, and he’s so thirsty already, but all he’s been able to do since the day was cry himself to sleep.

“What does it eat?” Stoick asks at last.

He’s not going to hope. “Night Furies only eat fish. And no eels. He eats a lot.”

“Eat,” he repeats, “When you’re done, we’ll get something for… the Fury.”

Really? That easy? Yeah, this… isn’t easy. Hiccup doesn’t believe it.

He eats. A little. As much as he can stomach, but it feels good.

“You’ll have to let me,” Hiccup says finally.

“You aren’t going near it.”

“He’s been in there for days, Dad. He won’t trust anyone else. Please. You can watch. Just… stay back.”

“Deal,” Stoick agrees reluctantly, and Hiccup tries not to think about the last time he said those words.

***

They go to the arena with a ridiculously sized basket of fish – Stoick was grumpy about the number, but Hiccup couldn’t care less – and backed by Stoick and Gobber. He… doesn’t like the number of people watching.

Astrid is here, though Hiccup has no idea how she shadowed herself in here. The walk was hard, and… yeah, something’s missing. It’s just… a feeling.

He keeps his mouth shut, eyes on the gate. That’s where Toothless was. Trapped, alone, in the dark, without food or light. Gobber drags the fish basket forwards, opening the door.

“Wait,” Hiccup argues, trying to sprint forwards.

Stoick pulls him back. Hiccup looks up, confused and instantly wary. “Stay back, son,” he orders.

“You said I could feed him.”

“You didn’t hold up your last deal either.”

“That’s it?” Hiccup asks with panicky disbelief. “You’re going to let Gobber go up to him when you’ve starved him for days, and expect nothing to go wrong?”

The cage door opens. His heart flips in his chest. All he hears is faint, muffled shuffling. Toothless doesn’t fly out like the other dragons did. He just… stays there. Hidden in the dark.

Oh, Thor, he must be terrified.

“Come on,” Gobber is grumbling, “Aren’t you hungry? Hiccup insists you’re hungry.” He shoves over the basket. Hiccup winches at the muffled, strangled whine.

Toothless. That’s… Toothless. Tears well up stubbornly in his eyes.

“Alright, dragon, let’s see what you got,” Gobber says, disappearing into the darkness.

He flies back out ten times faster.

Wow. “Like I said,” Hiccup supplies, “He’s angry.”

“I’ll do it.” Astrid appears at his side.

Everyone looks at her.

“What? If Hiccup can tame a dragon, so can I.” Astrid squares her shoulders and strides fearlessly into the darkness. Just like all Hoffersons.

Hiccup swallows. That’s Toothless. He’s so close. He’s right there.

Toothless roars. He sounds angry, but that’s his voice, and Hiccup could cry hearing it again. It fades from there into quiet whining, and then a dark shadow jumps from the darkness. Astrid follows a distance behind.

Brilliant green eyes blink at him again.

“Toothless,” he whispers.

Toothless yips, the dragon running towards him. Hiccup tries to run to him. Stoick yanks him back. “Let go!” he yells, struggling, “He’s right there, just let me see him, please.”

” Get back!” Stoick tries to pull him away. Toothless makes it first, tail batting Stoick aside. Oh, that looked painful. He growls fiercely for good measure, but Gobber is already picking himself up, the fish pile forgotten.

“Hey. Hey, Toothless.”

The dragon’s head swings right back to him, eyes wide. Hiccup shakily raises his hand. Toothless dives forwards, rubbing his head on his palm and dives forwards to lick his face. Hiccup laughs, reaching up to scratch his neck. Time number hundred or so that he’s cried, because it’s burning in his throat again. “It’s so good to see you, bud. Hey, let’s eat, okay?” Hiccup cups the side of his head with his hand. Toothless grins back at him, jumping to the fish pile and shoving his head into it. Hiccup follows, sitting beside him, close enough to give him room to eat but still… be here.

It’s been days. It feels like a lifetime.

Astrid crouches beside him with a soft chuckle. “See?” she asks teasingly, “You got to him.”

Hiccup laughs, even if he still has tears in his eyes. “Yeah. But we’re not out yet.” He looks towards the others again, gnawing on his lip. Stoick and Gobber are watching from a short distance away, fully ready to jump in and fight at a moment’s notice. Hiccup can’t escape. He thinks about it. Taking Toothless, flying over their heads and out, never looking back.

But… they’ll stop him. They’ll never make it out.

Toothless finishes swallowing the rest of his meal, head popping up and licking his lips.

That was fast. He must’ve been really, really hungry. “Hey.” Hiccup reaches out to him, and Toothless quickly circles in, rubbing Hiccup’s body against his side. He rests his head on the dragon’s warm scales, sighing. Toothless makes a soft whine, nodding skywards. Hiccup follows his gaze and sighs.

He wants to fly.

They can’t fly.

Hiccup can’t get them out of here, and Stoick will never let him go.

“I’m sorry, bud, I…”

But Toothless whines again, turning to offer him the saddle.

He really, really wants to go. And he doesn’t know how to tell Toothless that he can’t. It’s not fair to him. Or to any of them.

“Son,” Stoick says with the firmness that Hiccup loathes, “It’s time to go.”

No. Not so soon.

“Just let me stay,” he pleads clinging one-armed to Toothless’s neck. “We just got here, he –”

“Back. Now,” Stoick orders firmly.

Toothless growls in the back of his throat, edging forwards to position himself in front of Hiccup again. This is going to get ugly, and fast.

“He hasn’t flown in days,” Hiccup tries, “He’s itchy. Anyone would be.”

“Uh, let him go?” Gobber asks, “I don’t think that’s the greatest idea.”

“He’s not…” Hiccup trails off. They aren’t listening. No one does. And he’s tired of talking. “Then let me show you,” he requests instead.

Or maybe, he thinks desperately, flying him far, far away would be the best option he has.

Though there’s still the Red Death problem he has no idea what to do about.

Stoick’s eyes narrow on him in suspicion.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just…” What’s he going to do? Fly away with Toothless and leave his father behind, just like they took his mother away so long ago? Could he really… really do that?

He wants to. He hates that he wants to, but he still wants to. To never have to worry about this again. Astrid believed him, so why does no one else?

“The dragon isn’t your future,” Stoick tells him flatly, “Berk is. Step away from him.”

He looks back at Toothless. Toothless, the first and only friend he’s ever really hand. “Dad, for last time, he’s not dangerous!”

“Oh, for the – Hiccup, I gave you an order,” Stoick says fiercely, “That’s enough of this. The beast is only distracting you.”

He’s the first friend he ever had. The only friend he’s ever had, the only creature that somehow still hasn’t hurt him. Yeah, Toothless tried to throw him off the first time, but he threw him into the lake. He was careful about that, just because he… knew him. Hiccup’s known Astrid his whole life, and she still didn’t hesitate to beat him up. Snotlout and Stoick certainly don’t.

Okay, Snotlout doesn’t usually hit, but his words make Hiccup wish he did. He’s not leaving Toothless here. He doesn’t care what that takes.

Hiccup moves. Everyone is moving. Hiccup swings onto the saddle, hooking his foot through the stirrup and yanking. Toothless dives forwards for the doorway. He hears Astrid yelling no somewhere behind. Gobber and Stoick move. Well, Gobber somehow tackles Hiccup from his back and pulls him away. For as exhausted as both of them are, Hiccup thinks is the only reason it worked so smoothly.

It shouldn’t have. They should’ve gone for a jump then dive to avoid this, but he didn’t even –

Hiccup flails, but Stoick’s already got Toothless back towards his cage. There’s some other Vikings spilling in to help. Toothless is weaker. Hiccup hates that he can actually see that. He must’ve exhausted himself by struggling with the chains.

All he can say is that they don’t muzzle him again, though seeing Toothless growing and scratching at the cage bars is hardly any better.

Chapter Text

They – they need a plan. And fast.

His only focus is running now. No one is going to listen, and Hiccup’s got to pick and choose his choices carefully. Mostly, avoid Stoick. At nearly any cost. He doesn’t want or need to… make this worse.

His ribs still ache, between him and Astrid, thank you.

Toothless never did that. All the bruises Hiccup got out there were from falling off from failed rides, but he loved those moments. It was never as bad as what he had to deal with… everywhere.

He slides into a routine. Gobber takes him to the shop. He sits there for a few hours, Works on non-lethal objects one-handed, and smugly slips a tool into his sling. Thank you for something, Astrid.

Astrid still walks him to the Great Hall at night, or to the watch tower. The other trainers, Hiccup can’t help noticing, are dodging most anti-dragon topics. They’re making effort anyway, which Hiccup cannot say how much he appreciates. And Mildew drops by to be a jerk.

He’s with someone. Constantly, except when he’s at home in his room alone. He doesn’t really get to talk to Astrid – a part of him wonders if that’s intentional – and… with someone who used to be a silent shadow, the eyes are drowning him. Everyone is watching him now, like they’re expecting him to grow fangs and claws and a tail, and start spitting fire everywhere on a mindless, murderous rampage.

Hiccup waits until he’s certain Stoick is asleep – all he can say is not being tired is a relief – and pulls the tool from beneath his bed. He works carefully at the nails on the window, prying them off one of the planks enough he can shove it aside just far enough to wiggle through, carefully scaling the wall down to the ground.

It’s cold at night, and not being beneath his blanket means he can barely feel his fingers, but he’s got to find Toothless.

Hiccup carefully circles around the village. He doesn’t know how far he gets before seeing torchlight. Some people do pass, but this is somehow more nerve-wracking than the night he snuck Toothless right through the village. Hiccup keeps moving, slowly ducking from one house to the next, but…

He could swear the light is following.

Ah.

Great.

They really are watching him.

Is Stoick honestly kidding him?

He has people watching their house all night?

Yeahhhh, he’s gonna need some kind of… fancy nightly diversion somehow.

Hiccup backtracks to the woods, picking his way carefully along the tree line and back to the house, scaling the wall – he nearly falls an embarrassing number of times, but he can’t risk the door.

Blankets are nice. Still, all he can think about is Toothless, still caged and alone despite all his efforts, and how they have so little hope of ever getting out of here.

***

It’s starting to become less about leaving and way, way more about actually getting to – to…

Anything.

He hasn’t seen Toothless since the day he tried escaping. He hears through both Gobber and Astrid that he’s still being fed every day, or at least every other day, though through the bars of the cage just like the other dragons, and he never gets any sort of contact. The loneliness must be mind-numbing. Hiccup wishes he could say he can’t imagine it, but he…  can. Somewhat.

He was alone throughout his entire childhood.

And now, with everyone watching him, it’s somehow even worse.

Everyone is watching him now. Suspiciously, as if expecting him to… explode maybe? Like they think he’s as dangerous as the dragons everyone’s so afraid of. Winter is coming in fast, and Hiccup has no doubt that with it, the dragons will come again. There’s been a few brief raids, but never anything… major. Yet.

They have to wait for the next one. That’s his plan. He’s worked it out, but… he needs help.

That’s the hardest part.

He can feel eyes on him as he walks through the streets, hears people saying his name behind his back. The dragon kid, they call him. At least it’s not something nastier, though the way they say it still makes it hard.

He does hear whispers sometimes. Stoick said people were calling for his head, and Hiccup believed it, because they’re Vikings, and it’s not something that surprised him – he knew he’d be making an enemy of a lot of people if he went out with the truth. But it’s just different when he hears it.

Toothless should’ve left him in the arena. He should never have bothered coming to help him. But they’re connected to each other, and Toothless won’t leave. He should have. He won’t. He’s too loyal, to…

Toothless.

A dragon wouldn’t be a dragon if they weren’t territorial.

Toothless should have left him. The one time he wishes someone had left, why didn’t he?

Mildew, of course, is the one who somehow finds himself exactly where he isn’t wanted – uh, no one wants him, actually, or cares about him except Bucket – shadowing Hiccup unexpectedly in the middle of the street. “It’s a pity, you know,” he drawls, “That you’re the chief’s only son.”

Hiccup glares at him from the corner of his eye, but keeps walking. It’s Mildew; he never has anything good to say. He didn’t to Hiccup even before Toothless came out. They all mocked him, belittled him – because he’s small and so weak. He’s so weak. He is in nearly every way.

“You belong on Outcast Island with the rest of them.”

Funny, coming from him, who half the island would rejoice in kicking off, but has never done anything to violate their rues. It’s almost sad. Almost, but Hiccup has strong rules against hating people. It’s not worth the… energy? He tries not to wish awful things on people. He really, really tries, but sometimes, well, right now, it’s really, really hard.

A group of a few others – they’re mostly adults, Hiccup realizes. Or at least young adults. Hiccup keeps walking. He doesn’t know what to say, or what they want. He really wants to be left alone. Vikings got a mind of their own, but he still feels a crushing flare of bitterness when he realizes that, for a fact, actually – were it anyone else, he would have been.

Stoick only keeps him because he doesn’t have a choice.

Yeah, it’d be best if he just left and spared them all the problems.

Someone shoves his way to the front. Hiccup’s seen all these people, but he doesn’t really… keep track of everyone. “You’re a traitor to Berk,” someone throws out there, and the first real, genuine nervousness crawls up his spine. These people, they’re… they’re angry and their Vikings. That always means violence. Sometimes, it feels like the only language they speak.

“Me?” Hiccup slips out anyway, though his voice is nearly drowned out by the yells. “I’m just trying to stop this war.”

“By helping a Night Fury?” Mildew scoffs, “You are really out of your league, boy.”

“Why not just throw him in with the rest?” someone asks. “If he picks the dragon’s side?”

Several yells of approval go up.

People actually agree with that?

His head is spinning again. His body is shaking. He – okay. Okay, breathe. He can’t breathe. He’s trying but it’s hard.

They’re going to – they’re actually, in all honestly talking about killing him?

“The danger isn’t him, don’t you see?” Mildew adds, “It’s his Night Fury!”

People are yelling on top of each other.

Hiccup’s mind is spinning, but he’s cornered here. He can’t move. He can’t run. He can’t…

Someone’s yelling the thing is a demon.

“No,” Hiccup yells, desperation bubbling up. “He’s –” They’re talking about killing Toothless. And they could. Even if – if Stoick would tell them now, they could. They would. They – could. And they probably will.

And Hiccup’s trapped in his home with no way to stop them. He knew leaving his best friend trapped there would be dangerous and hurt them both but somehow, he never thought anyone would start talking about murder. Why didn’t he? Of course, they would. People hate dragons. They kill the ones in the arena all the time. For sport. It’s part of training.

Toothless is a Night Fury. He’s not exactly on the kill list. Or at least, Hiccup doesn’t know where on the kill list he is. He’s a Night Fury – of course, everyone’s screaming for the honor. Hiccup did once, too. And it’s because of him that Toothless will never get to fly again. Not without him and Toothless doesn’t deserve to get stuck with Hiccup.

He tries to go forward. To push and squirm his way through the crowd, though there are people everywhere and his head is spinning. He’s going to pass out again.

“Stop, wait!” he cries, struggling forwards.

Someone yanks him up. Maybe they’re going to find Stoick, or maybe they’re straight up going to find Toothless. He has no idea. All he knows is that he’s being swept along by an angry Viking mob, and he has heard stories about how people can be killed from these. It’s so, so rare, but it has happened, even on Berk.

He tries to kick himself free, but when has that ever worked?

Odin, Thor, if there’s anyone listening, I. Need. Help.

It’s only through sheer determination that he doesn’t cry even when they finally do track down his dad and Gobber. Someone throws him forwards.

Gobber yanks him upright and pulls him safely away from the assembled, many just here to watch. There are only a few active participants, but –

But the heart is here.

Yeah, here they are. They’re going to kill Toothless. Demanding his blood.

Because that’s all anyone ever wants to think about.

He tries not to think, hardest, about how being by Gobber is the closest he’s felt to marginally safer around a grown adult. He used to think adults were supposed to protect kids, but it feels like all Hiccup ever does is try to take care of them.

He’s so tired of it.

He just wants Toothless.

Everything makes sense when they’re together.

“Alright, everyone, settle down!” Stoick yells over their shouting.

The chaos dies out, but only for a moment. “We’re leaving a Night Fury caged in our arena,” Mildew says over the still going mutterings. “And giving it the food we have so sparsely! The food that the dragons have been stealing!”

The crowd is shouting angry agreement.

“If we’re not training recruits anymore, I say we kill them all,” Mildew continues, his sheep still stuffed under his arm. Hiccup has his doubt the poor creature finds it comfortable, but he’s happily staying far, far away from that man’s business.

Kill.

All of them?

“Everyone, settle down,” Stoick orders firmly.

Hiccup is watching him panickily, but he already knows it means nothing. It never does, and he wants to cry with desperate helplessness already. His voice is always, always ignored. He can’t even –

They can’t kill Toothless.

There was nothing like the helplessness in the arena before, struggling to make Toothless leave when he refused, then trying to fight through everyone to get to him, so certain that he would die right then and there and Hiccup could do nothing to help him. And here he is again.

“I know Hiccup is… Hiccup.” He tries tin gore the pointed look his father is giving him. “But it doesn’t change that was riding a Night Fury. This would hardly be the first time we’ve heard of a Viking who could control a dragon. Legends have it that a generation ago, the Berserker tribe could do the same.”

“We’re keeping it to weaponize it?” someone asks, drowned out by a murmuring ripple. He can’t keep track of it all. Therea re so many voices. Things, words flying all around.

“There is no way to control a dragon!” Mildew denies fiercely, “Rumors and legends are rumors and legends! We all know the truth.”

A roar of agreement goes up.

“Regardless,” Stoick says firmly, “It would be a waste to throw away the beast when it could become our greatest defense.”

“Or, you’re growing weaker in the face of your boy,” Mildew mocks as Stoick starts turning away. “Berk needs strength to match these dragons!”

“Then we’ll tame the Fury,” Stoick replies, “If it can be tamed.”

Mildew scowls, but he looks… smug. Almost satisfied, like he thinks he’s won a battle, and the quiet grumbles that go up are the worst sign he could use right now.

“He is tamed, Dad,” Hiccup protests the second they head inside, putting a short distance between themselves and the crowd. “We just have to be careful how we approach him. It’s the same with every dragon. And that means –”

Stoick is walking away already.

His hands drop with a miserable sigh. “And you’re not even listening.”

“I’m expecting that beast tamed, son,” Stoick calls over his shoulder. “If not, we will have to dispose of it. I will not have this go on any longer. You’ve both caused enough problems.”

“What?” Hiccup whispers faintly. Yeah. Yeah, okay. He’s made his point. If Toothless isn’t… no. No. He can’t do this. He can’t do this.

“You heard them,” Stoick tells him firmly, “All this is destabilizing everything on Berk. Under the circumstances, it’s the last thing we need. Get your dragon ready.”

Because that’s all Stoick cares about. Berk and his own image.

Hiccup has to do everything himself, doesn’t he?

***

“Astrid, I need your help,” he tells her in the evening, the second he has a chance, “Now. Get – get Fishlegs and come to my house tonight, okay? We’re short on time.”

“I got it,” she replies, “What happened?”

“You didn’t… hear?” No, of course not, because someone choosing today to beat up Hiccup is hardly a rare or well-advertised experience. Why would anyone care? He’s Hiccup. “Never mind. There’s… some people stirring that we’re keeping a Night Fury. I have to get him out before they…”

Astrid’s eyes go wide. “Okay,” she agrees, “Yeah, let’s – let’s get to work.”

“Tonight, please,” he requests again, “And… set the twins on lookout? If anyone comes near Toothless or the arena this evening, we need a delay. Snotlout can come tell us, okay? You caught all that?”

“What exactly are we on board for?” Astrid asks.

“Hey, you wanted something crazy,” Hiccup protests.

“Before I agree, I’d like to know what I’m agreeing too?”

He sighs. “Alright. We’re going to the arena. I need to talk to them, get Fishlegs at least on board. Snotlout and the twins I think will follow, either way. We need to stop that dragon, and we need to get Toothless out of here.”

“We?” Astrid echoes.

“We have dragons. Why not ride them?”

Astrid laughs. “I like your spirit.”

***

“I really don’t like this idea,” Fishlegs worries, twisting his fingers together anxiously. “But if I have to get eaten, I’m definitely going with Gronckle.”

“Good,” Astrid agrees, “We need all the help we can get.”

Hiccup’s gonna hope Stoick’s asleep, because if he hears any of this, he’ll… put both Fishlegs and Astrid on the babysitting list. And that won’t be good for any of them. “I’m glad you’re on board,” Hiccup agrees, “We –”

Something… sounds outside.

It’s an explosion, a distant blast of fire. Hiccup inhales sharply, darting to the window and pressing against it. Smoke in the distance. The village is going up into yells.

“Dragons are back,” Hiccup calls, whirling around, “That’s our chance. Come on.”

“I –” He fumbles for his hammer.

“I got it,” Astrid replies, slamming her axe through the boards and jumping out.

“Come on!” Hiccup motions to Fishlegs, and out they go. It’s good cover to get too Toothless… but not only for them. That’s what he’s worried about. Running through the chaos is far from ideal.

“Hiccup, the arena is that way,” Astrid calls, pointing.

“That’s why we’re going the other way. Come on.” He waves to them, sprinting towards the woods. A Monstrous Nightmare crashes to a flaming stop in front of them, snarling. This one’s a little purplish, though Hiccup’s mostly worried about… well, these things are temperamental. A little more than the average dragon. He did nearly get roasted to death by those things hundreds of times, to be fair.

“Why would we go the other way of where we need to go?” Fishlegs asks, confused.

“You’ll see.” Hiccup waves them forwards. “Come on!” he keeps running, pausing at the bottom of a hill where a snarling Nadder stands.

Should’ve brought dragon nip. “Hey,” he calls carefully, slowly approaching, hands raised. “Fishlegs, Astrid, stay back.”

They look at each other and immediately obediently back away, with no further desire of being closer to a dragon than necessary – at least on Fishleg’s part. Hiccup goes closer. He raises his hand, carefully, slowly edging forwards so as not to startle it. The Nadder, as all dragons, gives for the same trick he did with Toothless and lets him gently pet its snout.

“Okay,” Hiccup whispers, “Okay, we’re just going to climb on you now.”

He carefully climbs into its back, and with some reluctance – and terror in Fishleg’s part – him and Astrid climb in behind. It’s really more guesswork than anything as they fly for the arena, dodging the flames and chaos all around. The damage looks so much worse from the air.

Damage that didn’t have to be here if Stoick actually listened to him.

They need to be going after Red Death, not the creatures enslaved to it. Hiccup hates how much he thinks of his dad when he thinks of the dragon, of how everything is just… trapped there. Serving it. Before last week or so, he never would’ve thought that. He hates himself.

He hates just about everything that isn’t Toothless.

They land right outside the arena. He sees torch lights dancing everywhere, fire, the flames spreading – always spreading. The dragon shudders, snarling at the attack.

Hiccup jumps from its back, sliding down the wall of the arena to land right outside. He hears the other two following, but doesn’t look back.

“Hiccup!” he whirls around at the twin’s overlapping voices, waving at him. “You wanted to see the chaos, right?” Tuffnut.

“Ooooh, look at all that fire.” Ruffnut – both twins balance on the roof of the arena, hidden in the dark.

“Toothless?” Hiccup demands over them. He hates how all he can remember when he thinks of his friend now is those wide-terrified green eyes, begging for help, and a muffled whimper.

“Oh, yeah,” Tuff spins around. “Uh, there’s some people down there. They have all these dragon murder weapons.”

“And you didn’t think to mention it before?!” Astrid shouts.

“Uh, Snotlout went on his way to tell you?”

Astrid facepalms.

Hiccup doesn’t even care. He’s running already, fumbling with the lock, and Astrid throws him aside to bash it through with her axe, leaving a heavy dent in broth. The lock caves, breaking open. Fishlegs one-armed catches Hiccup with a panicked yelp of his own, then throws the door open, and Hiccup runs inside.

Mildew, and a group of other stupid, stupid Vikings pause, weapons raised as they head for the front of Toothless’s cage.

“Stop!” Hiccup yells, heart leaping in his throat.

Toothless growls a cross between a snarl and a terrified whimper-whine, all the way in the back of his cage. The same raw, gutted terror that he had that day in the woods, trapped and exhausted from hours of struggling beneath the trap Hiccup shot him down with.

“Stoick’s boy,” someone growls in a whisper.

Mildew – of course, it’s him, as though he has the audacity to be here – turns around like he isn’t casually leading a group of people to kill Hiccup’s best friend. “Ah,” he supplies, “The runaway? As if a dragon can save you? Watch, he can’t even save himself.”

Someone raises an axe. They have all sorts of weapons, glinting in the dancing firelight.

Hiccup gasps, something of a scream and sob building in his throat. He dives for the shields instead. There’s a shiny metal one he goes for, and then Fishlegs is grabbing someone’s arm with a panicky “don’t kill the Fury!” and Astrid is trying to maul someone to death with her axe.

Hiccup, for all his training, can’t do Astrid’s fancy summersaults. Instead, he just has to run. All the way across the arena.

He hates how much he ran when he was little. He’s used to running. Chaos, danger means he runs. A real Viking would stand and fight to the death, but Hiccup’s not any of that. He was born different. Defective, definitely, if it means he can’t even save his best friend. He wants to run, and even the adrenaline pulsing in his veins isn’t enough to keep him moving.

They’re trying to open his cage, dozens of weapons raised. Toothless is braced to fire. He shoots, he’ll kill, and they can frame this all on him trying to escape, but if he doesn’t shoot, they’ll kill him.

Hiccup doesn’t tell him to stop. He doesn’t want him to.

“Hey!” An axe smacks into the ground right in front of the cage door. Perfect throw. There’s the first moment of pause as Snotlout skids into the arena, yelling at them to stop. Another explosion sounds outside. Hiccup flinches.

Toothless is right there.

The axe will only slow them a second.

Mildew smacks Astrid in the stomach with his staff, and she goes down with a cry.

Fishlegs is biting someone’s arm. He’s amazing. Hiccup is so proud of him. They’re standing up to authority, to everyone, just for him?

Someone draws an arrow.

Hiccup throws himself in front, shield raised, still half expecting an instant surge of searing pain. There’s a clang and a thump instead. The arrow falls.

There’s so much sound. People are yelling, explosions are running everywhere and his head is spinning, focused only on getting to Toothless, but his friends are going to be attacked by the angry mob after him, and –

A dragon blast tears through the area. Someone yells to find cover. Fishlegs wrestles himself free, grabbing the shield from Hiccup as he fumbles with the lock. The cage slides open and Toothless jumps him.

His back smacks the ground breathlessly, the Fury slobbering his face with way overexcitement. Hiccup just thinks he could cry again.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he whispers instead, scratching his neck. “Now, let’s get out of here. For good.”

“Hiccup, I need some help here!” Astrid yells – from on the Nadder’s back. Ah. The blasting. She’s so smart.

The saddle, at least, is still attached. Hiccup scrambles onto Toothless, yanks the tail, fires a blast at their attackers to send them flying, another at the roof to make a flight whole, and jumps from the ground.

“What about us?!” Fishlegs yells from below, waving.

“Get the Gronckle and Nightmare!” Hiccup calls down, “You saw what to do, we’ll cover you. Hurry.”

He has to swerve to dodge an axe, then a mace and another axe. They don’t have long.

The Nadder yelps, but doesn’t drop. Arrow, probably. Still, he winces in sympathy.

“And the Zippleback,” he adds as afterthought.

“Did someone say Zippleback?” Ruffnut crows, and out spirals a flare of green gas, spreading across the arena.

“Don’t roast me!” Fishlegs yelps.

“Yeah, or me!” Snotlout whines, backing away from the flaming Nightmare.

“Just raise your hand,” Hiccup calls, Toothless firing again. “Slowly. Don’t scare it.”

“Scare it?!”

“Astrid said the same thing! It’ll work, you’ll see. But be gentle. He’ll let you on his back.”

Fishlegs is already on the Gronckle, as the twins gleefully fly up on the Zippleback, diving out from the hole.

Snotlout jumps the Nightmare, and they crash through the ceiling.

“Everyone, go!” Hiccup yells, “Get out of the city. Straight away, fly, fast!”

They fly.

They have to dodge a few bolas, but Toothless shoots out a few traps, and they disappear into the night.

Finally.

Chapter Text

Berk is… gone. He left his home, and dragged all his friends with him. He didn’t mean to. They’ll never be able to go home. They don’t even have a home, or real weapons, and only the few supplies Hiccup was barely starting to gather out in the woods that day.

They’re not ready. By any means.

And somehow, despite the knowledge of what he just lost… all Hiccup can feel is a deep and uplifting relief. For the first time in his entire life, he’s free. They can go. Fly as far away as possible and he’ll never to worry about – about all of that.

He’s never going to see Stoick again. He’s so awful – he’s leaving his father alone, letting everyone think he died just like his mom, and stead of remorse, all he feels is relief. He wishes he was dead to the world. Then no one would ever have to worry about him and his messes ever again. No one on Berk will have to worry about taking care of the stupid kid they hate, anyway.

Frankly, he knows no one will miss him but Stoick and Gobber, a little bit, and they’re better off without him. Everyone is better off without him. If he hadn’t been so busy trying to earn a nod in his favor, he never would have hurt Toothless.

And he dragged his friends off their home.

He’s awful.

There’s nothing but himself and his friends and the air slapping their faces around for miles, and he feels awful.

He’s free now, and he feels somehow more caged than he has his entire life.

“I’m sorry I dragged you all into this,” Hiccup offers, not as though his apology means anything, tilting his head to look over his shoulder at the four dragons spread behind him. “You really didn’t need to come.”

“At least we’re making sure you’re not getting eaten,” Astrid answers firmly, hands gripping the back horns on her Nadder’s head for steering.

“Yeah, you needed out help,” Fishlegs tells him sincerely, like that actually means something. It never meant anything, not until he started training with them, and it’s weird. Everything is weird.

“I just hope you brought food,” Snotlout says loudly.

“I’m just in for the fun!” Tuffnut yells, throwing his arms in the air. Ruff smirks, and the two slam their helmets together.

Oh, that looked like it hurt. No wonder they’re so… nuts. He would be, too, if he had a permanent headache. But this isn’t funny. None of this is funny. “So, I guess we just… fly.”

“That’s your plan?” Snotlout asks.

“I never really had a plan other than getting Toothless out, which I guess we did.” He pauses. Come on. Think. He’s a Viking. He’s Stoick’s son, future chief of Berk – he can do this. “I… guess we should find some place to sleep for the night, then take a look at the dragon’s nest tomorrow.”

It’s gonna be a harsh battle with no back up. Hiccup’s… scared. He’s terrified. Even with Toothless at his side, he has no idea what he’s doing.

“It’s a good plan,” Astrid praises, “Maybe if we take care of it tomorrow, we’ll go back to Berk.”

He feels lightheaded. “There are people there, they’ll try to kill you. They won’t let it go. For any of you. You saw Mildew, if he knows what’s happening, he’ll try to kill all of us. Assuming we don’t get arrested the second we land. And they’ll kill our dragons.”

“Hiccup, Berk’s our home,” Fishlegs protests, “We can’t just leave it. There are dragons out here, and… it’s really dark.”

Really dark?

“Aw, you hear that?” Snotlout assess, “Fishlegs here is scared of the dark!”

“I think I see an island up ahead,” Astrid calls, pointing.

Hiccup leans over. Toothless yips, diving down towards the island in question, though he could swear he remembers nothing about there being an island here yesterday – or at least not this shape and size.

And, right in front of him, a figure flies from the clouds.

Hiccup gasps, yanking back on the saddle as a massive, four-winged dragon comes from the clouds, not a species he recognizes, but Fishlegs squeaks, launching into something something, four-winged, razor sharp claws. “Everybody, stay still,” Hiccup orders, fingers curling over the saddle, heart pounding. Atop the dragon stands…

A figure. A masked figure, staff in hand.

“No sudden moves, and I mean –”

Snotlout swerves aside. He tries to run.

The other dragon swerves behind him, cutting him off. The flapping is making flying hard.

There’s more coming.

“Let’s – let’s land,” Hiccup requests, though he can’t tear his eyes from the figure. Toothless is looking around, shuddering, eyes darting around, wide with fear. He’s terrified, and Hiccup is admittedly far more spooked than he cares to admit himself.

Who and what is this?

They glide downwards. Toothless snarls at the dragons surrounding them, and the strange masked figure climbs to the ground, the others slowly landing around them.

“Uh,” Hiccup squeaks, hands slowly raising as he edges forwards, Toothless at his side. “Who are you?”

The figure slowly approaches them, looking between them all. Astrid twirls her axe, raising the weapon in front of her. Snotlout has his own, as does Fishlegs. The twins, for their parts, are lounging on their dragon.

“Should we blast something?” Tuff whispers.

“Wait until it gets a little closer,” Ruff whispers back.

“No blasting!” Hiccup yells over his shoulder, “We’re trying not to kill anyone!”

“That thing’s not a person!” Tuff whines, gesturing, “Look at it!”

“It has hands,” Snotlout points out. “At least I think it has hands. It does have hands, doesn’t it?”

Astrid looks at him disgustedly, axe still poised.

I don’t know, Hiccup wants to snark back. Why don’t you say ‘hands’ a few more times, and I’ll get back to you. Not that squabbling with his cousin will help anything right now.

“Whoa, okay.” Hiccup backs away when they get closer, “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” a woman’s voice echoes from beneath the mask.

It’s a she, then. But this could be anyone.

“We – we’re just trying to find someplace to land for the night.”

He throws a panicked glance at Astrid. “I’m sorry, is this your island, or…?” Her hand is lifting towards him, and he leans back, looking panicked behind her. The twins jump off their dragon, and the other three jump forwards, axes and all. Toothless snarls, angry and scared at once.

Snotlout of everybody pushes his way in front of him. “Hiccup, stay back,” Astrid warns, regripping her axe.

“Hiccup?” the woman asks faintly with… recognition? “Could it be?”

“Uh, should I know you?” Hiccup squeaks, nearly running into Toothless as he slowly edges backwards.

“Whoa, keep away!” Tuffnut yelps, jumping in front of him, Ruff immediately shoves her own way between them.

That’s touching.

“No.” The woman backs away, pulling her helmet off to reveal a face that looks terrifyingly similar to his own, a few strands of auburn hair going gray and pulled back into a braid. “No, you were only a babe. But a mother never forgets.”

Everyone freezes.

“What?!” Astrid asks, bolting forwards, “You’re Hiccup’s mom? I thought you were dead! Everyone thought you were dead!”

“Shh.” She looks around. “Come inside, quickly. Follow me.”

“What?”

His…

Mother?

This is his mother?!

“You’re my aunt?!” Snotlout squawks.

“You have an aunt?” someone in the back asks.

Hiccup scrambles after, Toothless on his heels as they climb through the little area into…

A giant, massive, somehow glowing inside cavern with dozens and dozens of dragons. Hiccup gasps faintly, eyes wide as he scans the area. It’s terrifying and thrilling all at once. So many dragons.

“You seeing this?” he breathes, tilting his head a little but unable to look away from the chaos in front of him. Unlike Red Death, this place is like… Valhala. No war, just beauty and so much green, light even in the night. Like – like a paradise. A dragon paradise.

“Yeah, I’m seeing,” Fishlegs answers shakily, clinging to his Gronckle, “Maybe this isn’t a good place for us to be?”

“We thought that about these dragons, too, didn’t we?” Astrid reminds, rubbing her Nadder’s neck.

“This – this is where you’ve been all these years?” Hiccup doesn’t know how to feel about any of this. His mom is alive. That’s – relieving. Half of what he hated himself for all this time was that the dragons killed his mother, but if they didn’t, then… there’s that. But. But after Stoick, he’s not ready to face… anyone. Another piece of his past. Another parent, glaring at and judging him disapprovingly. He just wants to be free, wants to give Toothless… something.

She nods, her dragon carefully helping her to the ground. “Not what you expected?” she guesses.

“Some kind of, uh…” Hiccup looks around. “Feral, dragon rescuer, vigilante lady?”

“That’s Hiccups mom?” Tuff whispers, back on their dragon.

“I have no idea,” Ruff whispers back.

She laughs. It’s a light sound, full of freeness and heart. Hiccup remembers that laugh. “Well, at least I’m not boring, right?”

“I…” Hiccup trails off. “Yeah, there’s that… one specific thing.”

“Do you like it?” she asks tentatively.

“I…” What does he say? “I don’t know,” he says with a laugh, “I… just got basically kicked off Berk for saying not all dragons are evil, so…” He reaches out to scratch Toothless’s neck. The dragon purrs, nuzzling his side. He’s free. He’s finally safe again. Finally. Hiccup turns back to him, crouching in front of his dragon. “But you are okay, right, bud?”

Toothless’s nose rubs his chest. Hiccup rests his forehead on his, sighing. “We’re never going back, okay? Never.”

Nearby, the Nightmare roars and flames up. Hiccup looks up to see a group of dragons sniffing him out. Whoa. Moody, that one.

“And these are…?” his mother asks, eyes on his friends.

“Astrid Hofferson,” Astrid answers immediately, “Dragon trainer, Hiccup’s friend. Uh, a dragon rider now and outcast of Berk, I guess.”

“This is my cousin, Snotlout,” Hiccup introduces, gesturing. “You remember him, right?”

“Yes, I do,” she agrees with a soft laugh, “Snotlout, he came just a few months before you.”

“These are Fishlegs, and the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut,” Hiccup adds, “And, uh… these are the dragons we just rescued from the arena, uh…” He trails off, suddenly at a loss for words.

“May I?” she requests, extending a hand to Toothless, who swivels warry eyes at her. Hiccup moves to let her in, and Toothless relaxes a bit with her fussing. She circles all their dragons, saying they’re all visibly malnourished – how can she even tell that?

“Tell me, how did you manage to find a Night Fury?” Valka inquires, standing from the Gronkle as Hiccup watches her.

She’s so gentle. She’s… close with these creatures. All of them. She’ll be angry if she knows he did this because adults are always angry. Everyone’s angry. He’s glad she’s here, but…

He’s scared. Having another parent means having another person to please, and he has no idea how to do it. He screwed up so badly with Stoick. How could he handle failing her, too? He hated dragons, and here she is, living with them. “He…”

“Hiccup shot him down,” Snotlout chirps.

All eyes turn to him. Hiccup’s tired. He really wants to sleep. And feel safe.

“Huh,” Astrid hums. “You do have a mind of your own!”

“Yeah!” he brags, “Of course, I knew he was telling the truth this whole time!”

“Even if you only use it once a year,” Astrid adds, raising an eyebrow in disgust.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Fishlegs offers.

“It’s okay!” Hiccup interrupts quickly, “If someone else had found him, I wouldn’t have met him other than when I…” He trails off. His mother loves dragons. Just like his dad hates them. And Hiccup’s spent his entire life struggling to bridge the two, to be both at once, where his heart was and what was ordered of him, because he didn’t have the strength to do what he always knew was right. “Yeah,” he fumbles, “I’m sorry, buddy.”

Toothless’s giant green eyes blink up at him. Hiccup wraps his arm around his friend’s head, clinging to him. All he ever does is hurt people. He can’t do anything right.

His mother is crouching over Toothless’s tail, gently stretching the prosthetic, “This was your handiwork?” she asks softly.

Hiccup peaks over his friend’s head. “Yeah, start to finish.”

He waits for the yelling. It doesn’t come. “You’re a blacksmith?” she asks curiously instead. She looks surprised, but not angry.

He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I was. Gobber taught me.”

“Of course, he did. Here, you must be tired.” She motions them towards a cave further back somewhere way inside the ice. “You can sleep here with your dragons.”

“They won’t try to eat us?” Snotlout asks dubiously.

“No, a dragon will never attack unless threatened or afraid. And they are safe here, under the care of the great Bewilderbeast.”

The what? Okay, he’s heard a little too much for one night. Bed sounds nice.

Toothless ignites a small patch of dirt, and the other dragons curl up their own ways beside him. The twins are sleeping before toppling from their dragons, the Gronkle ignites a small fire for them all to stay warm, and the others crowd in to sleep. Hiccup curls up next to Toothless, and exhaustion pulls him under.

***

He’s… free. Toothless is safe. He can never go back to Berk. His mom is… alive, so maybe they have help or somewhere to go. He doesn’t have a home. Toothless is safe. That’s what’s important.

The others have moved a little, but Hiccup slowly climbs from the ground when he wakes, brushes his hair from his face and goes to search for his mother. Toothless follows obediently, unwilling to leave him for even a minute. Hiccup doesn’t deserve that loyalty.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you wake.” Valka lightly jumps from a strange ice ledge. “Are you hungry?”

“I… could eat,” he offers tentatively. “But… how did you get here? I mean, it’s been years, and we all thought…”

Valka sighs. “Berk was a land of kill or be killed. but I believed peace was possible. It was a very unpopular opinion. One night, a dragon broke into our house, finding you in the cradle. I rushed to protect you, but what I saw... was proof of everything I believed. This wasn’t a vicious beast, but an intelligent, gentle creature, whose soul reflected my own.”

“Just like me and Toothless.” He looks down at the dragon, who just purrs back. He’s not angry. He should be angry. He’ll never get to be whole again, to fly on his own again – forever physically dependent on humans to use a piece of himself for him. But he loves him, somehow, and Hiccup has every intention of trying to keep that.

“Cloudjumper carried me away to the home of the great Bewilderbeast. What you see around you. With his icy breath, he creates a safe haven for dragons everywhere.” She hasn’t been with people for years, but she’s still so, so nice. Hiccup can’t remember the last time he’s had a single conversation this long with his dad. He doesn’t think it’s ever happened. “You and your father nearly died the night I left, all because I couldn’t kill a dragon.”

What does he say to that? To the very thing that Stoick was so angry at him for? “I guess it runs in the family. I got kicked off Berk for the same thing.”

“Stoick exiled you?” Her voice is a little dark, a sort of rolling, hidden anger.

“Well… not exactly. I had to leave. I… made some really, really stupid mistakes, and my friends got dragged right in. I’m sorry. I know you were hoping for something a little…” Valka just waits for him to talk. It’s strange to such genuinely wholehearted, single-minded attention. Dad never did that. Their only interactions revolve around Hiccup fussing because Stoick is sick or cranky or his day totally sucked, or Stoick yelling at him.

Or hitting.

“Less Hiccupy?” he goes for instead, because that’s really the best he can say everything buzzing in his brain.

“If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all… this.”

“But you just gestured to all of me.”

“Yes! That’s it! Stop being all of you!”

(He still has great self-respect for the length of the ohhhhhhhhh he sassed back to Gobber’s face)

“What,” Valka asks, her face pinching into a frown. “No. Hiccup, no, you’re – do you know how long I wished someone would understand what I said about dragons? And you, after all this time, you took after me. And you brought your friends. You did something I never could. You saw something beyond fighting, and you showed it to others. Maybe… maybe this is a sign there’s a chance for Berk yet.”

“Maybe.”

He doesn’t want to go back. Valka’s hands are on his shoulders, strangely soft. She’s so soft. Hiccup’s so confused.

Why isn’t she yelling? How long will it be before he screws something up with her, too? It’s only a matter of time.

“I…” He gnaws at his lip. “I tried to show Berk the truth. Astrid… she made me believe I could do the same. I tried. I did. Right in front of everyone, I tamed a Monstrous Nightmare, but then… Dad intervened, and… Toothless saved my life. They caged him, and I finally got him out last night.”

“It broke my heart to stay away, but I believed you'd be safer if I did.” Her expression flickers with… is that guilt? “I see now, maybe… I was wrong. After all this time, you’ve taken after me, and where was I? I’m so sorry, Hiccup. Can we start over? Will you give me another chance?” She looks so hopeful.

As if he could ever say no.

All this time, since Toothless, he wishes he could say something else happened to his mother. That he… wasn’t siding with the people who killed her. That he wasn’t alone in this, with Toothless, that there was someone out there who…

Cared.

Waited for him.

And if she’s real, how could he say no?

“I can teach you all that I’ve learned these past ten years. I’ll show you everything, we’ll unlock every mystery, find every last species, together, as mother and son. This gift we share, Hiccup, it bonds us. This is who you are, son. Who we are. We will change the world for all dragons.”

Toothless pops his head between them again, yipping happily. Hiccup laughs, somewhere between confused, overwhelmed, and mostly just breathless. “Yeah, I mean that – that would be amazing. Take me. Take us.”

Valka hugs him. It’s so strange and foreign it startles him, but her arms are around his back, cradling him against her chest. Hiccup buries his face against her chest, remembering the helmet – he didn’t deserve that helmet because he wasn’t a real Viking – and clings to his mother, their first hug in somewhere over ten years.

Toothless yips with glee, popping up between them.

Valka smiles, her eyes watery – Hiccup clearly got his non-stop crying streak from his Mom. The last times he’s seen his dad cry was when he was little, when he’d just sit and brood after Hiccup lost his mother. He never understood. Because he never knew, her, and Stoick rubbed that in his face over and over and over like it was somehow his fault. Valka cries a lot.

He feels like he remembered that somehow. She was so… emotional, so sweet.

Hiccup blinks back at his own tears, somewhere between confused and overwhelmed.

This is real. It feels like a dream. Valka strokes his hair, her fingers gentle. (He definitely does not think about how the last person who did that was Dagur, about eight months ago, when he dragged Hiccup into one of his rare, bone-crushing hugs. Except Valka doesn’t hurt.)

“We will make this world a better, safer place,” Valka promises fiercely, her fingers gently stroking his cheek. Hiccup’s other hand is on Toothess’s head, the dragon’s tail swishing excitedly.

“This – this is amazing,” Hiccup finally stutters, “Hey, maybe we can go take care of Red Death together! We can stop all this fighting, we can save the dragons, and most of Berk. Even if…”

“They never remember us?” Astrid asks. They both start at the sound, his friend standing backed by her Nadder, blond hair unusually messy as it frames her face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no you didn’t,” Valka is quick to reassure, though she doesn’t let Hiccup go. Stoick would have. Nudged him aside, ignored him until he was done dealing with the problem at hand. But Valka…

Isn’t Stoick.

“It’s almost feeding time, and then we can check what Hiccup’s talking about. Red Death?”

“It’s a really big dragon,” Astrid answers, “It’s like a giant beehive. The other dragons have to feed it, or it eats them.”

Valka slowly pulls back, frowning, “I have seen a few dragons of its kind before,” she says, “It’s massive, deadly. But the Bewilderbeast must stay to protect its kingdom. It cannot go to war with others when this is its territory.”

Hiccup’s heart drops a bit. “But… we can still go together, right?”

“Yes,” she promises, “Of course. We’ll do this together, remember? And I have so much time to make up for.”

***

The flight back to Dragon Island is long, but Red Death is still sitting there. All the dragons immediately go… jittery on approach. Cloudjumper carefully glides inside, Toothless following. The others are supposed to be staying outside.

Valka swings her staff, mask back on. Hiccup doesn’t understand the movements, but the dragons do. But unlike there, the dragons don’t obey her. Hiccup leans closer, lips pressing together tightly. “Uh. Mom? I don’t think they’re listening.”

“Because they serve another king. All dragons have their queen, but the king always stands above that. If we attack, we’ll endanger our own.”

What? No, they can’t just leave. They have to end the war, and at least if they free the dragons, maybe… it doesn’t matter if they’re heroes or not. He just needs to help them. “Berk is our own. Even if we’re away from it. As long as this thing continues here, it’ll keep hurting all the dragons, and we’ll keep running, and people will keep dying.”

Cloudjumper’s wings flap as the dragon hovers across from him.

Valka looks downwards. “You’re right,” she admits, “But if it comes and hurts our Bewilderbeast…”

“Then we don’t let it past us. Toothless is a Night Fury. I’ve been training to kill dragons. All of us have been. We chose something else, but…” He trails off, thinking. He has to do this. He needs to free the dragons. Hiccup doesn’t have a kingdom or whatever Valka means about her Bewilderbeast. He wants peace for all dragons. And he can’t let himself be held back, even if… This is something he has to do. “I have a few ideas. We just need to get it out in the open.”

“We’ll need to chase the other dragons away. They will return when they know their island is free and safe.”

“I… have an idea,” Hiccup offers tentatively. “Good thing I got a shield, I guess.”

***

His idea is, Hiccup decides as he dodges another fire blast from Red Death, stupid.

Fishlegs and Snotlout are down, Cloudjumper – the poor thing – was thrown through a rock and snapped a wing like paper. Astrid’s Nadder got misplaced, and the twins – miraculously – lasted the longest of them all.

Shield gone, axe gone, and now it’s just him and Toothless, the best weapon of all – because as long as they have each other, they will always be something left to fight for. Hiccup serves and dodges, streaking over Red Death, dropping plasma blast after plasma blast to burn through its wings, keeping it grounded until the wings are all but shredding – flames racing everywhere.

The thing is still angry, and then of all the things his luck could hold for the day, a blast cleanly catches Toothless’s tail. The dragon lets out a hiss of panic, the heat already jumping up the metal rod.

Hiccup grits his teeth and they keep flying. And flying. They need to wait until the thing is high enough and opens its mouth. His hair is wildly slapping his face, wet from sweating, air slapping against them.

Come on. come onnnn –

Flames crackle. He throws a sideways glance. Oh, yay, wool on metal does badly, apparently, because his boot’s ankle is catching fire from the rod. The tail is smoking with holes now.

The others are watching.

He started this, so he’s going to finish it.

Toothless fires down its throat. The dragon roars as it catches fire from the inside, and drops. They swerve around it, flying up and up and ohh, his foot is actually starting to hurt now. Well, what’s that? He’s a Viking. He’s broken bones before, and his arm is still healing from when Astrid snapped it in the woods.

It hurts. Everything hurts. Not that it matters. He doesn’t have time.

Just a bit longer. A bit. They’re diving downwards towards the mountain side, and Red Death is going to crash it no matter how it turns, because its wings are gone and, jus t like Toothless, it can’t fly anymore.

They pull out of the way. Toothless keeps flying. He shudders as the tale rips and breaks off, but keeps flapping fiercely, dodging the Death’s back horns, try to swerve past it’s maybe-leg as it crashes upside-down towards the ground, flames bursting across it –

And the tale has broken free.

They can’t make it.

He’s going to –

Explosions tear across the ground, muted over the series of yells going up.

He’s…

Going to die.

He falls from the saddle, toppling downwards towards the flames so hungry below. The flames are right beneath him, and Toothless is stuck, flapping and flailing with a cry of panic, swerving around to try going down. He’s falling. Toothless is trying, but he won’t make it. He…

That’s okay.

He doesn’t mind. Not… really. All he does is cause chaos and hurt people anyway, and it’s probably for the best if his Mom doesn’t need to worry about it.

Why did it have to be right when he found her again, when he got Toothless? Well, there are worse ways to die. There’s no fight in him now. Just like Toothless when he laid there so still in the woods, alone and afraid, waiting to die.

And they are, as always, one and the same.

Hiccup closes his eyes against the fire and blurring shadow flapping towards him, and lets go.

Chapter Text

It’s… dark. Everything aches, but the incessant sniffing right in his face is a sure promise that Toothless is here, and Hiccup raises his hand to pat his friend’s nose, murmuring a faint, strained little “oh, hey, Toothless” he pries his eyes open at the dark ceiling, it by firelight. It smells familiar, just… dragon-y. Like plasma and fire all at once. “I’m happy to see you too, buddy.”

Toothless yips with joy, jumping around his bed, foot stomping on his groin, definitely by accident, but Hiccup gasps, jolting upright to shield himself with a shriek.

Thanks, Astrid and Stoick, for collectively breaking the same rib.

That should not have hurt.

Toothless jumps aside, revealing the walls of none other than his bedroom back on Berk, the chair beside his bed, and his mother sitting in it, her face vaguely tear-stained, but still smiling.

“I’m in my house,” Hiccup echoes, blinking, “You’re – you’re in my house? Does Dad know you’re here?” He tries to move when Toothless dangles himself from a higher up bar on the wall, peering over the edge with a way too gleeful, slobbery grin.

“Slow down,” Valka soothes, gently gripping his shoulder when he tries to move – something felt wrong what was that? “It’s okay,” she assures, “Are you thirsty?”

This is his Mom. Valka Haddock, smiling at him with tear-filled eyes but so bright and sincere, in his home, in his room, caring for him where she’s never been, where no one’s ever been. He’s got a bit more to wrap his head around than he wants to drink. But still… “Yes, please.” She leans over his bed to grab a glass from the table, carefully passing it to him and steadying his hands when they shake.

Her smile is so soft and gentle he wants to cry.

He’s always alone when he’s in his room, because that’s where he’s safe from – from Stoick. And it’s the one place he can hide from his dad, other than the woods, with Toothless, the place where he’s safe – until the window got boarded up, and it still beats the remnants of Astrid’s axe.

He wishes he’d left something for Stoick now, because the thought of facing him again drowns him in a maddening, paralyzing fear.

“Thanks, Mom. I… what’s happening?”

Toothless jumps over to them again, yipping.

“You got hurt,” she answers, and he remembers the fire. Red Death. All of it. It… did hurt, but he barely remembers. It’s like something he knows was there, but his mind thankfully closed over. “I had nothing to help you, so I thought maybe we should bring you back to Berk.”

“Are the dragons okay?” Everything hurts but his left foot. And his leg, somewhere, is burning. It’s like a fire, flaming in his bones, eating nerves and muscles and skin and it hurts enough to make him dizzy.  It’s probably bandaged – he’s afraid to look. Why doesn’t he feel it?

She smiles, nodding quickly. “Yes. It was quiet the scene when we came back. But Stoick was happy to know we were alive. Our dragons are waiting outside.”

They… are? He allowed that? “All of ‘em?”

“All of them,” she confirms with a smile and a nod, but it falls quickly. “Hiccup, you might want to take a look at this, but you do need to rest for a while.”

“Why?” he asks tentatively, “What happened?”

She hesitates, like there’s something she’s not saying, something hard for her to say. “Do you remember when Toothless’s tail caught fire?”

“Yeah. That’s why we fell.” Hiccup frowns, unease clawing at him. What happened? What is she so serious about? “I know, I know I have some burns probably, but…?”

“Your foot caught fire. Well, a lot of you did before Toothless put it out.”

Someone must’ve changed his clothes, because they aren’t scorched like they ought to be. Hiccup looks down, slowly reaching to pull the blanket off. What he sees doesn’t surprise him, but it terrifies and overwhelms him all the same. His foot is gone, severed, halfway down from the knee, something wood and metal screwed into the bone.

Like Gobber. Just… not a stick, at least.

He lost a part of himself.

The thing he was terrified to fight dragons for.

He was always afraid of pain. Always dodged it, or tried to, because… there has always been so much of it. But he lost a part of himself, something that will hurt forever, limp forever – just like Gobber – and he can never get it back.

Just like Toothless. He probably deserves it a little.

“I’m sorry.” Valka’s voice is soft and broken, and she takes Hiccup’s hands in hers, stroking the back of his hands. “I should’ve known attacking the dragon would end like this.”

So should he. He knew he could die, but he had to do something right for the first time in his life. He had to save Berk, Toothless, all the dragons. And he did. Even if it cost a part of himself, he won. The battle scars the twins used to joke about. It was worth it. Though… it will hurt forever. It hurts now, a fire on his leg that he can never shake or stop. Not that it’s what matters in the end. “But we saved Berk.”

“Yes. Yes, we did.”

Hiccup tries not to look at his foot again, but he can’t help it, slowly swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. Toothless lowers his head, tentatively sniffing at it. He’s scared to get up. The burning in his leg is pulsing in and out, and it feels worse now that he knows it’s supposed to be there. Did it hurt Gobber that much? He talks about his limb loss all the time, but he never mentions the pain. But he’s a Viking. The pain isn’t what’s important.

He tries not to look at the helmet seated on top of his bed, remember he didn’t put it there, and wonder if Stoick did while he was away. Wonders if this is a sign of forgiveness or a promise of murder. With Stoick, sometimes, it’s hard to say. He just knows that it makes the ache in his chest a little heavier, when he remembers that he’s the one who chose to leave.

He’s a coward. And that’s why he had to kill Red Death. To prove that he can be something more – with Toothless at his side.

He’s… scared to face his dad again.

He inhales deeply, trying to push himself up. Valka takes his hand, helping him upright. Pain spears through his leg when he tries, any sort of weight dropped on it.

He doesn’t get past a second step before he falls.

Toothless and his mother catch him.

They’re here. He’s not alone.

And somehow, that makes everything worth it. The pain, the fear over the last weeks – though deep inside he knows Berk is still not a safe place for dragons. Not truly, because there is still – and always will be – people who hate dragons.

But right now, the trick is just to get up. To walk. He leans on Toothless, and his mother steadying him as he limps to the door, slowly edging it open. Valka takes his arm over her shoulder, helping him down the stairs.

Regardless of the dragon-reactions, he tells Toothless to stay inside.

But… there are dragons everywhere. Everywhere, everywhere, as he looks around. Flying, three Nadder’s jumping on somebody’s rooftop – but nothing is burning. There are no weapons. No yelling, no smoke.

Just dragons… being dragons. Some are actually carrying people. He sees Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins, and his friend’s calls go up, gleefully waving and running to him.

Hiccup tries to wave, but most of his weight is awkwardly leaning on Valka, though she doesn’t seem to mind. “Hiccup!” Fishlegs scoops him into a brief, unexpected hug. “You’re okay!”

“Apparently, you can be stubborn at something.” Snotlout pokes his shoulder, though he looks strangely not aggressive. “Oh, wait, I always said you could be.”

Hiccup huffs a laugh at his cousin’s strange form of affection and turns to the twins, smiling, for what feels like reality for the first time.

“And you missed the entire explosion!” Tuffnut complains.

“Actually, he got a close-up. How was that?” Ruffnut asks gleefully.

Uh…

They’re gonna joke about that?

“Hot,” Hiccup deadpans, “It was really, really hot.” He blinks around, awed. “We’re… back on Berk.”

“Yeah, we are.” Astrid pushes her way between the twins. “You missed a lot. She smacks his shoulder. “Don’t scare us like that again.”

“Us?” Snotlout asks sweetly, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “You were the only one scared, honey.”

Astrid elbows him. “You were crying,” she snarls.

He…

Was?

Nope, Hiccup is not ready to process that yet.

“It was smokey!” Snotlout protests, flushing furiously and stumbling upright. “My eyes were watering. Why weren’t yours?”

“Uh,” Fishlegs offers, “It wasn’t that smokey where we were.”

Cloudjumper lands nearby, carefully standing in the middle of the street, a massive sling on one of its wings. Hiccup smiles a little – his Mom’s dragon is okay, too. That’s good. This is all… a lot.

“I’m still pretty sure I’m in Valhala, but I didn’t really die a warrior’s death, so…” Hiccup looks up at Valka for help.

She laughs. “You were right,” she says, “You started the work here. We came back to finish what you started. The dragons are safe here forever. Berk’s war with the dragons is over.” They all hush when Stoick appears, his shadow falling over everyone, and Hiccup suddenly feels small, slinking into his mother’s side.

Ugh.

He hasn’t had a single civil conversation with Stoick since – when was the last time? He’s known his mom for about a day, but they have yet to have a single argument. He wishes it didn’t hurt so much.

Why did Stoick have to be the one he got stuck with? He would’ve done anything to have been raised by Valka, and he hates it, because… Stoick really did so much for him. It’s not Stoick’s fault that Hiccup is… Hiccup.

(But why does he never listen?)

“Son, we need to talk.”

“Okay, is this an actual talk?” Hiccup asks, years of utterly unwarranted anger bubbling up. Maybe it’s just being with his Mom, finally seeing what parents are supposed to be like that does it. “’cuz our last talks ended with a broken rib or two, and I’m not talking about yacks.”

There’s a moment of pause.

Hiccup clamps his jaw shut.

Did he really just say – ?

That. Yeah. He said that. He wishes he could take it back, because he – no one knows about that. Stoick hits him, he says nothing, because it’s not important. Why would it be? His Dad is just strict and all Viking-like and a real Viking wouldn’t even flinch at a punch.

Hiccup’s just… made of paper. Basically.

“Stoick,” Valka asks, way too calmly with a terrifying undertone of anger. “Did you hit our son?”

And somehow, Stoick just crumples under the weight of her glare. Like he never does for Hiccup. “I made a few… a lot of mistakes.”

Hiccup blinks.

He – what?

“What?” It comes out hurt and strangled. “You’re going to apologize to Mom?”

“Inside,” Stoick orders, not sharp, but still firm as he nods for the house.

Yeah. Yeah, ‘cuz he cares so much about his image. And if someone saw him publicly apologize for hitting Hiccup it would set the town on fire. Okay – it actually might. With how many people are calling for his head, and no doubt still are. Not everyone is going to be tripping over each other to befriend dragons, even if they’ve been showed the truth.

“Toothless!” Valka calls.

The Fury jumps over everyone’s heads, trampling a few to land beside Hiccup, still without a tail – and saddle, whatever happened to that – circling him. Hiccup climbs onto his back, anyway. He crouches to make it easier, and Toothless is so helpful. So is Valka.

He feels… better. But he still wants to get out. It’s so oppressive in here, the walls so dark. He wishes he could be back out there. Flying, just out of here.

“Thanks, bud,” Hiccup whispers, stroking his head. “You can let me down now.” He tries to climb off, mostly surprised when Stoick lifts him off, carefully easing him onto one of their chairs.

He doesn’t know what to say. He feels… smothered. Stoick always makes him that way.

He doesn’t know if now is a good time to apologize. After what’s happened, it doesn’t feel like there’s even a justifiable reason to. And even if he tries, the words don’t come out. He looks down at his hands instead.

“I wasn’t sure what to believe when your mother brought you back,” Stoick says, to him. “She had been gone for so long, and you took so much after her.”

Hiccup takes Valka’s proffered hand, clinging to her. She’s so grounding. And what is he supposed to say? He’s always so invisible. “You locked Toothless in a cage,” Hiccup says flatly, not missing how tense his dragon is in his father’s presence.

“And Berk accepted the dragons. That’s what you’ve always wanted.”

I don’t trust you, he wants to say, but the words are too biting and cruel to say.

But still, at heart, they’re true. He doesn’t trust Stoick. He doesn’t really trust anyone, actually. Especially not his dad. Anymore. Not after Toothless and the cage. He still feels like he’s living in a dream or a nightmare or some horrifying, screwed up form of both. He doesn’t let go of Valka’s hand.

He really just wants to cry.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “I guess.”

“Good.”

Yeah. Leave it the same as al of their ‘talks’. Sure. There’s not much to say. It’s obvious Stoick feels bad about hitting him, and he does when it’s important and the rest of the time, it doesn’t matter. Hiccup doesn’t want to be here.

“Is there anything you want to say?” Valka asks.

Yes. He doesn’t want to stay on Berk.

“No,” he says numbly instead. Toothless is jittery here. Hiccup doesn’t think he’ll ever look at his room the same. Stoick turned this house into a prison. He never wants to come here again. They had to. It’s good to know at least a few people are accepting dragons, but this isn’t where he wants to be. He tries to limp to his feet. Toothless gets up to help him upright.

They go back upstairs. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone.

Valka comes, anyway. “Is your foot okay?” she asks, “Gobber wasn’t sure how you’d want it. It’s okay if you take a while to think about.”

He glances down, self-conscious. “I… might make a few tweaks.”

“I expected you would.” The quiet hurts. Hiccup hates the quiet, with how much it’s defined him. His entire childhood was quiet. “I’m so sorry I missed so much. I thought you’d be happier on Berk than with me. I was wrong.”

No kidding. “At least you’re here now,” Hiccup mumbles. Toothless sits beside him, tail curling around his back legs and blinking up at him with wide green eyes.

“And here I’ll stay,” she promises. “I know I can never make up for the time I lost, but I can try to be here from now.”

Hiccup can’t imagine growing up with her. She would’ve been an amazing mother. He… “Thanks,” he offers sincerely instead.

Downstairs, he hears the door opening, and moments later, Gobber shows up, a familiar saddle mess under his arm. The end of it is different now, replaced by red material, a perfect matching tail fin to what he made for Toothless himself. Red fits Toothless well, he thinks, the probably third sincere smile breaking.

“Oh. Gobber. Thanks. For that, and uh…” he offers his leg. “This.”

“You think it’ll do?” Gobber asks, dropping the saddle-tail concoction into his arms.

Hiccup takes the weight with a small smile. “I might make a few tweaks,” he replies, genuinely unspeakably touched, “Later. You read my drawings?”

“We found them right after you left. It was crazy,” Gobber offers.

Huh. “You came to my room?”

“Some people thought you’d been eaten,” he replies, “Mildew came, calming you’d ran off with the Fury.”

Toothless growls at the name, and Hiccup pets him to keep him calm…ish. “Did he tell you he was trying to kill him? With a whole group of nasty Vikings, and that Astrid nearly broke an arm trying to save him?”

“You can imagine that went around,” Gobber grumbles, “Then when Valka showed up…” He eyes her. “It was chaos. You should’ve seen it.”

“I think I’m glad I wasn’t,” Hiccup mutters. “Berk’s… different.” He shrugs. “It’s not exactly…”

“It will take time to undo the damage the war has made,” Valka agrees, “But we have time. And it’s a fight I think is worth it, if it’s one you want, son.”

Maybe. “It’s what I wanted.”

Gobber remade Toothless’s tail while Hiccup was out? He didn’t even see what happened. That’s… unexpectedly sweet of him. He didn’t have to. Toothless is… a dragon. And Gobber was helping him. He didn’t have to help. Of all the people who could have, Gobber has the most reason not to help. He lost two of his limbs to them, and… he’s been through a lot.

But he listened. Because it was… he doesn’t know why, actually. But he’s not complaining.

Hiccup looks at Toothless with a tired smile. “I might not be able to fly yet,” he offers, “But we can still get this on you.

***

It’s a few weeks until Hiccup is on his feet, without limping too much, and they get the cast off Cloudjumper’s wing. Walking is hard. It’s gating on his bone, the pressure scraping agonizingly against his leg. It’s burning. It always burns. There are days it’s an ache, some where it’s an all-consuming searing thing that never stops, but it always hurts.

Limping is weird. He’s seen Gobber limp a lot, but he never understood why. He understands it now – that pain that never goes away.

The new tail fits Toothless perfectly. He looks good on it, and it’s not as flammable as the previous. It’s good.

It’s been weeks since they’ve flown, winter is now kicking in full swing. It’s cold and snowy, but it’s Berk.

He doesn’t feel safe here anymore. Maybe he never will again. But this was still his home. The war is over, and like it or not, he did this.

Hiccup slides his foot into the stirrup, stretching the tail. “You ready, bud?” he asks.

Toothless yips with glee.

His wings flap and they shoot forwards, leaping from the edge of the cliff. Taking off, spiraling, turning and twisting through houses and over cliffs – and Astrid on her Nadder, on Stormfly, swoops in, her dragon shadowing their every move, slower, clumsier, but so graceful.

Hiccup smiles over his shoulder, and Astrid grins back. Behind, the sound of flapping wings, and Cloudjumper soars above, Valka standing atop, staff in hand, mask on again, but the two are as careless as ever before the wing-break not long ago.

Behind, he spots Fishlegs on Meatlug, dodging a building and nearly smacking through someone’s front door with a shriek, and Hiccup laughs.

Snotlout soars in, Hookfang’s horns in his hands for steering, the dragon – though still as feral as ever – clearly having fun. And lastly, Ruff and Tuff on Barf and Belch – ugh, they needed a better name. But hey, it’s the twins, and nuts is what they are.

And they’re his friends. Above all, they’re his friends, who stayed by him through thick and thin when he had nothing.

Maybe his dad will take a long time to come around, if he ever fully does, as will most of Berk, but he ended the war. He might never be able to look at his home the same, at his people and the Vikings, but maybe he never really was a Viking.

Because he’s more than that. He was born different, just like his mom. They might have the body of humans, but they have the heart of dragons, and there’s nowhere he’d rather be than flying the skies with Toothless… and his friends.