Chapter Text
It was getting darker and colder again by the time they landed on their home island.
The flock had flown through the night and day non-stop, ignoring aching wings and burning cuts, desperately, blindly flying for home, to where they knew they and the boy would be safe and protected. The rain had lightened during the journey, but they were all soaked, scales and horns dripping and eyes narrowed against the persistent drizzle. The wind was light, some kind of miracle considering their fatigue; any storms or unexpected gusts could have knocked them from the sky.
Nightfire and Pine were flanking the three dragons carrying cargo at the centre, who ignored their tired wings and claws and soldiered on, the thought of their nest strong in their mind. Warm wood, hay and fire curling through their minds.
As the island grew from the horizon line, gaining more and more details in every wingbeat, an almost imperceptible hum of relief echoed through the group, and they subconsciously sped up, ignoring their pain in the almost feverish rush for normality. The desperation to be back somewhere safe, away from what had happened.
They thudded into the ground, the ones carrying loads depositing them gently before setting down themselves heavily, wings burning and heads low. For a supposed victory, they had lost so much. Barf and Belch…
Not even mentioning the injuries, most of them had cuts and burns from the mad Queen, and all had strained wings and legs that were aching badly now. Meatlug’s wing was broken after being thrown into the side of the mountain, and seemed disoriented, even now after so much time.
The boy, gods, the hatchling, he was so damaged. So fragile and breakable, but so capable of mending, fixing. Despite his fragility, his fears, they couldn’t imagine him so silent, still and broken. All they knew of him was him talking to them in tongues that they could understand, and even if he couldn’t understand them word for word, they knew he always knew what they were feeling, and always had the words to soothe, to help. His hands healed them, built their nest and made things that made their lives better. And eventually, he had guided them to victory against their tyrant queen. But through no fault of his own, at such a great cost to the flock and to himself. They all knew what they were agreeing to when they followed the boy and Toothless. It was a willing choice.
Toothless opened his wings slowly, the boy limp, slumping forwards slightly in the dragon’s paws. The group grew still, the true weight of the damage hitting them. They’d seen so many dragons killed by wounds lesser than that. He hadn’t stirred at all, not even when Toothless snorted softly into his hair, the damp brown locks rustling in the fading light, moving to position their hatchling on the ground softly, taking in the extensive wounds on the boy.
Toothless looked up at the group, who looked lost, staring down at their flock leader with confusion and fear. Deep terror, guilt and horror shot through him, more potent than the fire that they had just escaped, although not unscathed. However much Toothless wanted to just curl up into a small ball around his scaleless brother, he knew that wasn’t what would be helpful right now. He had to… do something. Think of something. He had to help the whole flock, and then everything could finally be normal. Just them and their island and their nest, everything warm and safe and protected. His nubs flickered slightly, looking down at his best friend, lying motionless on the darkening ground.
Hookfang leaned in beside him, a scratch scabbing over on his nose, orange eyes looking at him knowingly. Toothless huffed, claws digging into the soft soil, and turned his head to the rest of the dragons. They stared at him, half slightly slumped, wings limp and necks tight. Stormfly was tense, her tail raised and swishing, standing over Meatlug, who was staring vaguely towards the nest, wing hanging crooked beside her.
Toothless draws himself up and warbles to them, softly, watching carefully as the perk up slightly, eyes switching between their flock leader and Toothless. Through a series of hums, warbles, twitches and eye flicks, Toothless communicated.
We need to get everyone warm and safe, so that we can plan our next steps, and keep the flock and nest safe. Who is relatively unharmed, and can fly? Toothless green eyes scanned the group, as Stormfly and Lynx moved forward, tense. Lynx had a bleeding cut on his face horns, but blinked slowly and calmly at the black dragon, Stormfly tense beside him, but minimally harmed.
We need food, enough to keep us going so we can rest. Hookfang moved forward and glanced at the other two, dipping his head ever so slightly. Agreeing and willing to join.
The three took off, not willing to look at the body of their flockmate, flying towards the nest to pick up the rough hewn nets their flock leader had made to make carrying larger quantities of fish easier.
Toothless stared around at the remaining dragons, all in various states of exhaustion and damage, trembling slightly, pain nipping at them. All of them were tense and prickly, fear still driving them, tails swishing around, claws digging deep into damp earth.
Letting out a distinctive hum, Nightfire perked up, tail still bristling, but looking at Toothless almost desperately, keen to do anything to try and help.
Can you take Meatlug to the nest, she’s badly hurt and needs to rest. You can rest up there too, once the food and flock is all secure we’ll rest. There’s no point in stressing tonight, we can sort everything out in the morning once we have rested, drank and eaten. None of us are in any shape to do anything tonight. Toothless warbles, dipping his head and tail swaying.
Nightfire perked up, squawking an affirmative and moving up slowly beside Meatlug, nudging her towards the nest. Something in her, desperate for rest, complied, dazed still, stumbling slowly towards the nest, wing flopped at her side, Nightfire keeping pace, slow and steady.
Toothless, Sharpshot and Pine huddled closer together around their hatchling, trying to figure out their next moves. Toothless lifted up the boy gently, teeth digging into his jacket, fear biting at him. The smell of burning and blood was sharp in his nose, and if it wasn’t for him holding the hatchling he would have growled. The guilt bit at him, regrets at not reaching him quickly enough coursing through him.
Pine whined softly, but moved forwards ahead of him, Sharpshot leaping onto Pine’s back, the pair lighting the way towards the nest. They move slowly and carefully, Toothless’s head as high and steady as possible, Hiccup hanging from the scruff of his jacket, limp. As they finally get to the door of the house, after what seems like an age, they slow to a stop, uncertain for a moment.
Pine steps over, and without asking, slowly brings her tail up, and cuts through the leather straps holding his shield, quiver and bow, and belt, the sword and sheath sliding from the belt and embedding in the soft ground. With the weapons removed, the boy looks - small. Painfully small, especially with him missing half a limb. They all pause for half a breath, and Pine turns and hooks the door block with her nose, throwing it to the side, pushing the door open. It was dark and warm inside, and something in both dragons uncoils slightly at the familiar walls and piles of blankets. The smell of smoke, wood and something earthy and ashen that followed dragons around everywhere.
They filed inside, Pine and Sharpshot fanning out to begin making the room more hospitable. Despite only being gone a short while, it felt like a lifetime, something the dragons were keen to change. Sharpshot bounded over to the fireplace, tugging logs in and spitting fire, the logs catching quickly, protected from the rain that was starting to get heavier.
Toothless padded slowly up the stairs, almost on two legs to keep Hiccup from knocking on the stairs, finally hauling himself up the final steps to the upper floor, gently depositing him on the bed. Carefully moving next to the bed, he lit the candle on the table, purring lowly as the flame caught, soft, flickering light illuminating the bed and its inhabitant.
Sweat gleamed, eyebrows slightly furrowed even in his deep sleep. Toothless stared at him fearfully, whining quietly. Pine came up the stairs, before settling at the top step, and lying down, sharp tail facing the door, before resting her head on the floor, staring at Hiccup and Toothless. The door creaked slightly downstairs as it was pushed open, and Stormfly slunk in, head low, mouth full of fish. Carefully, she stepped up the stairs, resting her sharp claws on each step slowly to ensure she did not scratch them. Sidling over Pine, she dropped a small pile of fish between the bed and Pine, warbling reassuringly before slowly descending the stairs again to huddle with Nightfire, who had just emerged from the side area.
Everyone is inside. Meatlug is asleep, but her wing looks bad. I reassured her best I could. Nightfire warbled lowly, Toothless acknowledging it with a soft warble back, before settling back beside Stormfly and Hiccup respectively.
As the flock slowly calmed, adrenaline finally drained out of sharp tails and smoke filled lungs. The larger dragons were coiled in the side room, half tangled, gap left for a friend who’d never return. Hookfang’s scales had dried quickly in his warmth, and despite his slight nerves, Lynx was lying flank to flank, warmth from the stoker class starting to warm the cold dragon slightly, shudders from anxiety and chills finally abating, slipping into sleep.
The nadders were tucked into each other in the soft nest their flock leader had made for them with careful hands and caring smiles. The stinging of their cuts and burning of their bruises felt duller in their safe nest, chosen with everything they needed taken into consideration.
Pine was slumped across the top steps of the upstairs landing, tail limp against the stairs, still facing the door. After finally feeling slightly calmer, she had fallen asleep hard, adrenaline crashing hard, despite her anxiety about the danger they had left behind for now, and for her flock leader, the one who had nursed her back to health.
Sharpshot had skittered up the banister, and had chittered quietly to Toothless, who had regarded him, before humming to the small green dragon from his place in the thin gap beside the bed, where the large dragon had wedged himself, head resting on the bed next to his buddy.
Sharpshot paused for a moment, head flicking to the side in confusion, before Toothless rearranged himself slightly, showing a clear dip in the bed clothes next to the boy. The terrible terror perked up, scrabbling towards the pair and up the bedpost, before slowing down and padding over to the spot beside Toothless’s head, in the crook of Hiccup's neck, head lying on the boy’s shoulder. Lifting his head up slightly, the small dragon looked at Toothless.
I thought you didn’t like me?
Toothless, despite himself, snorted slightly.
I was not disliking you. It was just… pettiness. I was jealous you could be so close all the time. It was stupid. Especially looking back. You all care for him just as much as I do. Although even I do not understand why.
He dipped his head slightly, looking at the boy, who had relaxed slightly in his sleep, the warmth radiating from the little dragon obviously easing something in him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at what the boy had lost thanks to his slowness.
Suddenly, a voice from the stairs spoke up. Warm and steady, even with nerves tinging her words.
We love him because he cares. He cares in a way no other human has. With more depth than most dragons. He confuses us, yet loves us back. I feel like a family here like I haven’t since I left the nest. This isn’t just a flock. It’s somewhere safe, safe from those who hurt us. It’s like there is something draconic about him, but something human about us. We’ve made too much of a difference on each other to go either way now. I, and many of us, would be dead without him. His clever hands and caring words and thoughtful eyes have saved us. And I can't wait to see what the hatchling does as he ages. I want to help him live and grow and thrive, and see what he becomes.
They all fell silent as they mulled over his words, as she moved up the stairs slightly to settle in front of Toothless’s bed.
Toothless paused for a moment, tail swaying for a moment before speaking out.
I never understood why the boy felt so guilty about how we met. It’s just life, isn’t it? Dragon’s fight all the time, and we have been feuding with the human’s since before I remember. Although we didn’t have a choice with the Queen forcing us, some dragons hate humans, and so many humans hate dragons. Our history is interwoven, and I never expected a day when we might coexist like this, especially with any part of the hatchling’s flock.
Even back then though, he smelt of one of us. Not in his clothes, or his limbs, but those eyes, his spirit, it was like looking in a mirror.
But he stank of guilt, fear, self-aimed anger. He had won. When he cut me free, I was taken aback. I thought I was going to die there, I was stuck, I couldn’t have defended myself. He had every opportunity. But he didn’t. He showed me mercy. Or maybe he had some realization about himself. Maybe both.
I don’t think he even realises how brave he is sometimes.
When he spoke when he was trying to build the tailfin, I learnt about his family, and of his flock. I hated them, I hated how they made our clever, fast hatchling hate everything that made him him.
If I had flight then, I think this would have been what we would have done anyway. I’m glad he made the choice he made. Although I was sceptical at first about you all, it was more because I was worried you would hurt him, or that he would hurt himself. He never had good self-preservation instincts. But I have a flock now. I didn’t think I’d have something like this.
The nightfury tailed off, ear nubs pinned back, wings tight to his body, staring at his best friend, lying still on the bed.
Flock.
Toothless turned his head to Pine, who tilted her head at him, looking at him steadily with warm eyes.
He understood what she meant.
The razorwhip took one long look at him and the boy, before settling back down with a small yawn, sleep taking her again. Sharpshot began to doze in the silence, small head tucked against the boy’s collarbone, tail against Toothless’s paw.
Toothless lifted his head, watching the boy in the flickering candle light.
None of them thought they had a second chance. They all thought a human was going to kill them. Yet, despite everything, despite initial intentions, he had saved them.
Toothless knew that Hiccup had caused his fall from the sky. The ropes had smelt of the hatchling, even before the boy had told him one day while sitting in the cove. He had seemed convinced that Toothless would turn on him after finding out, that he was going to kill him. But he had no knife to protect himself. No shield. Nothing.
Toothless was half surprised before realising that the boy felt that confessing to the dragon was needed. That regardless of the outcomes, the bond they had made could be broken with such knowledge, and that he was willing to do that so that they both knew everything that had occurred between them. Despite Toothless being his closest companion at that point.
Something about it made the dragon feel slightly sick. A hatchling willing to lose a new flock member to confess something that could have resulted in dangerous consequences, purely because his guilt felt so bad.
When the boy had met him, he had no other true companions past the blacksmith; he knew that the child would have been miserable returning back to that place with the hostility it showed to something he now loved like a brother. He knows that killing Toothless would have earned him a place in that society, but he decided not to. Not to appease his own leader in that regard, in favour of helping a species he had been taught would kill him in moments without a second thought.
Toothless finally understood it though. It was bad enough when the boy had taken the arrow for him against the hunters. Toothless had felt awful for days, barely letting the boy leave his sight. He had blamed himself, even when the boy had realised why he was behaving strangely.
How could he look his hatchling in the eye now? He had promised himself he would care for the boy. Protect him until he could care for himself. He hadn’t expected such a strong flock. He knew, deep down, that there was very little that could make him want to leave this flock now. The boy, despite not knowing anything about dragon norms, had made a cohesive, multiple species flock without fear. Just for united care for the same human.
He didn’t think anything like this had been done before. They didn’t have an alpha dragon. Just the boy and him.
After the last few months, he couldn’t think of anything more perfect than their flock. They were safe in a way they hadn’t been in years. Maybe in their entire life.
He worried for the boy, even before this. He was concerned he wasn’t getting enough… Human time? He was around the flock all day and night, and he knew humans were very social. But after everything with his original flock, he just couldn’t trust them.
Toothless had a bad feeling, looking at the remains of the boy’s leg, that they were going to have to take a rather huge gamble. The dragons couldn’t deal with this, not by themselves. He could already smell a slightly acrid smell surrounding it. He glanced at the hatchling’s face, still covered in a slight sheen of sweat even in deep sleep.
As the dragon finally lay his head down, head spinning and whirling with thoughts, fears and ideas, he came to a conclusion about what he needed to suggest to the flock when they were all awake enough to do so.
Those humans might be their best chance for their flock leader’s survival.