literature

I Hear Him Scream, Ch7 Part 3

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I’m not one for gazing at landscapes and marveling at their beauty. For me, what’s there has always been there, so why bother calling it ‘beautiful’ or ‘mysterious’ when there was an endless amount of time to explore it? Why put so much attention into something that you’ve lived your entire life with?

And yet I found myself sitting in the uppermost branches of the tallest tree of the cove, watching the faint outline of the Dragon of the Sun make His way into the waking world.

I sighed, watching my breath fog and mist around me, swirling a couple times before disappearing into the sky. I couldn’t sleep.

Hiccup, on the other hand, was out like a rock, curled up contently on a bed of hot coals that I’d taught him how to make. It was really the only thing that he’d actually enjoyed about the firebreathing lessons we’d gone through. He’d whined and whined and whined about it, choosing sleep in favor of protection. And when he’d actually practiced, he’d shown that he was quite an, for lack of better words, absolutely awful pupil when it came to shooting fire. For instance, he’d managed to choke on his own igniting gas when he’d filtered too much out and closed his mouth too tight. And he’d also accidentally ignited the fire inside of his mouth, leaving him with a swollen throat and tongue and an endless drinking session. And at one point, I’m pretty sure he forgot how fire works. He shot a blast directly at a tree! If I hadn’t body-slammed the burning trunk to smolder the fire, then it would have burned and toppled over, and then the entire cove would have been alit.

And his aim. Oh, Dragoness of the Moon. His aim.

It didn’t help that I knew why Hiccup wasn’t taking to it too well and could do nothing about it. It was his lack of motivation. The hybrid saw no reason to use his fire, since, Hey! the humans trusted him! I hadn’t had the heart to tell them that they could have been lying. Easily. He’d been so happy, so at peace with his body, that it would have been cruel. ‘Fishlegs’ had done wonders to Hiccup’s tiny self-esteem in his winning argument against ‘Astrid’ and the others. Maybe I wouldn’t try to kill him if he came back.

For a second, I considered waking my friend up to teach him how to use his senses properly—I’d been reminded of how he hadn’t heard the human gang coming. He seemed to have trouble using his senses. It took one look at him to decide not to. Hiccup was in desperate need of his sleep. He needed to rest and relax for once.

I continued my watch alone.

A sudden noise came from the general direction that the humans’ nest and I instantly perked my ears towards it. But it only proved to be a handful of small, lesser birds attacking a rather large hawk that was carrying away one of their young. I grunted, readying a blast to shoot down the bird—who knew how long it would be since Hiccup and I would eat once we went through the fish supply?—when something caught my eye. I let my attention drift from the birds to…

From here…I could just barely see the ocean…

I shook my head to clear my mind. I’d already been over this with myself! I wasn’t going to mourn in self-pity.

I did miss the feeling of the ocean spray, though. And the smell. And the hoards of fresh fish ripe for the picking…

Stop it, I growled to myself. You’re only going to make it worse.

I couldn’t help myself. I began thinking about my handicap.

The magic inside of me felt like it was crawling to its previous point. But after much thought, I knew that no amount of power would bring my tailfin back. I’d been on and off about repairing it, convincing myself that it would be possible one day and then realizing it would work the next. Dragon magic, although thousands of years old, is unnatural. Legends say that the dragons blessed by the gods of magic passed the traits down to their offspring, and, eventually, it boomed into the entire population. It came at a cost, though.

Since magic is a foreign energy, it causes the body to attack itself with extreme overuse. Healing simple scratches causes incredible pain if you help another dragon. Attempting to fix an amputation by myself would be agonizing and potentially lethal; if I passed out or lost my concentration midway, the lump of unfinished flesh and scales could easily become cancerous.

Becoming dependent on magic would get a dragon addicted, and they would be unable to function without it, abuse it, and eventually wipe their minds of all rational thoughts. The consequences all depended on the type of magic. There is one well-known form that enhances the body and its abilities; for instance, when I healed Hiccup’s wound, all I was really did was push his body’s natural healing process to superspeed. Hence the pain.

The only other type of magic is very debatable. Some dragons say it exists; others say it doesn’t. It doesn’t apply to the physical world, but the mental, spiritual, and energy aspects of the dragons that it affects. Because it doesn’t have any physical evidence, and very few dragons have ‘used’ it, most of my kind is skeptical. I personally believe that the Queen uses this magic to keep control of the tribe.

I don’t know why my magic didn’t hurt me when I transformed Hiccup. Thinking about it now, it bothered me. I didn’t know the exact moment I noticed my tailfin had been gone…

…had I—?!

I banished the thought from my mind and beat it into submission, once again staring at the Dragon of the Sun. Forcing myself to mull over something else, I chose the first topic that came to mind: humans. I struggled with it, but eventually reminded myself that I was supposed to be looking for danger. I shuddered.

Any moment now, the Viking tribe could be here, out for the kill. Even if Hiccup was convinced that his little ‘friends’ had bought his disgusting tame act, I knew to be on my guard. Those humans had changed their minds so easily, I wouldn’t be surprised if they managed to undo what Hiccup had done on their way back from our home.

I just hoped that Hiccup was right about them. Even from here, the tallest point in the cove that I could reach, I was only about halfway up the cliffside closest to it. It seemed almost like I was mocked; the cliff wall directly parallel to where I was sitting wasn’t too much taller than the tree. It had giant tree roots growing all over it, desperately trying to hold the earth in place, and it was nearly a vertical incline. Still, I could have easily come and gone from this area if only the tree I was sitting atop was on the opposite side of the lake.

Anger boiled up within me for a second at the unfairness of it all. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, dispelling it. I’d learned to accept situations as they were in the past days, and I was keen on keeping myself that way. No need throwing a fit over something that no dragon could fix.

For hours, I stayed on my perch, keeping watch over the cove and observing the Dragon of the Sun as He rose. Clouds were rising over the horizon, promising a cloudy day at the least. The ocean sparkled and swayed, so unlike the lake, which was calm almost all of the time and perfectly reflected everything above it.

The sun was about a quarter into the sky when Hiccup began to shuffle in his sleep. Knowing that meant that he was about to wake up, I carefully clawed my way down the tree trunk and jumped off, landing lightly onto the soft, green grass. Settling down next to Hiccup, I watched him for a moment and rested my head on my forelegs. He stirred again and slowly brought himself into the waking world.

Hiccup rubbed his face with one paw and smiled in greeting at me. “Morning,” he mumbled sleepily, stretching out his front legs as far as they would go and arching his back.

“Sleep well?” I asked. Hiccup answered me with a jaw-popping yawn, which I guess is a ‘yes’ for humans. “Good. Because if you think you can just waste away an entire morning like that, then you’re stupider than a Little-Biter.”

“Huh?!” Hiccup turned to me, bewildered. “But we were up all night doing your ‘training lessons’!” He gestured with his tail at a series of scorch marks along one of the stronger walls, all of which were caused by him in the middle of the night; like he’d said, we couldn’t just practice fireblasts in the day, where the smoke could be seen! So the only logical conclusion was to practice fire-breathing at night.

I nodded. “Yes, but that’s no excuse.” Hiccup’s left ear twitched in annoyance and I smirked. “You really can be lazy sometimes.”

Hiccup got to his feet and stretched, grumbling, “There’s a fine line between being lazy and wanting to rest.”

“Yup, and you’re on the lazy side!” I purred. Hiccup scoffed and sat down to scratch at a spot behind his ear. As he did, his eyes closed into mere slits and his tongue stuck out a little. So, I, like any other sensible dragon, walked over to him and tipped him over as a punishment. Impulsive? Me? Pfft. My older brother would do it to me all the time.

The human-turned-dragon stumbled and dropped to the ground, squirming for a couple seconds before standing up. “Ow! Toothless!” He whined, pushed me in the chest lightly with his paw. I snickered.

“Sleep in any more and you’ll get that. All day. Every day.” I forced an overly cheerful smile onto my face, laughing when the brown Shadow-Blender stared at me in horror. “Oh, you poor thing. Next time, go to sleep earlier! Or take a nap in the middle of the day when you’re done doing whatever you need to do.”

Hiccup scowled at me. “Yeah? Well, I’m still going to sleep in, since we really don’t need to do anything today…or the next…or the next.” He straightened and puffed out his chest proudly, as if he’d won some great award or honor. I didn’t know whether to think of his naivety as hilarious or startlingly stupid.

I stood as well, making my way over to him and patting him in the back of the neck with my wing. “You’re silly. We’ve got plenty of things to do.” I paused, remembering the cut-off conversation we’d had last night. With a sigh, I added, “We need to talk about something.”

Believe me, I really didn’t want to have this discussion. I didn’t want Hiccup to lose his hope in those disgusting humans because of how much their trust meant to him. But I didn’t want him to get stabbed in the back and never see it coming. That would crush him. He needed to be prepared, and it seemed that I would have to be the one to do it.

Be as gentle as possible, I told myself. When Hiccup had sat down in front of me and I’d done the same, I began, “I know that you’re excited about those Vikings making a truce with us, but I really don’t understand why you did.” Hiccup’s eyes widened in shock and hurt. I cringed. “I’m not disagreeing with you. But I do find it very hard to figure out when their way of ‘making a truce’ was throwing their weapons at us when they first saw us and then yelling at you for a good portion of that conversation.”

“They weren’t yelling at me!” Hiccup immediately snapped to defend them. “And I trust them because they agreed to an alliance. If there’s anything Vikings do well, it’s keeping their word. And killing things, but that’s besides the point,” he babbled, shaking his head. The freckled dragon gave me an angry look, ears pressed against his head, and continued, “You of all dragons should know that, Toothless!”

I bit back a growl. “I do know that,” I insisted, “but those Vikings might change their mind! How can you be so sure that they aren’t going to tell their superiors where we are?” I stared into Hiccup’s eyes, and suddenly I could easily see the frustration and confusion swimming within them. Guilt rushed through me. I shouldn’t have started this conversation. Damn it.

“Well, how were you so sure that I wouldn’t attack you after we made our own truce?” Hiccup shot back evenly. His voice was rising in pitch and volume. “That’s the same thing with them! We promised each other something and stuck to it. Astrid and the others will do the same thing!”

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “But how do you know? Sure, they agreed to you and did that…thing…with your paw. But how—I mean—ugh.” I glared at the ground for a second and then returned my gaze to Hiccup’s. “What makes you think they won’t change their mind?” I finally got out.

Hiccup’s eyebrows raised and he stared at me. “I trust them,” he declared after several seconds, “and I know that we’ll be safe. If anything, Fishlegs would warn us if an attack were to happen. And since Astrid was the one to agree to it, the others will follow her lead.” He took a deep breath and made a visible effort to calm down before quietly adding, “…and Snotlout has always gone along with Astrid, so we know we’re safe from him, too.”

I allowed myself to think this over. It didn’t take long for my mind to immediately come to a conclusion. Was ‘Astrid’ their group’s Queen? It sure did sound like it. Thinking back on it now, I realized that, even though she didn’t directly address anyone as much as the others did, they’d all hung on her every word—except ‘Snotlout’. But his challenges to her authority were beat down rather quickly by the Queen herself, and whenever she did something, the other four (or three, when ‘Snotlout’ ran away like a little coward) were sure to follow.

So was Hiccup actually playing it smart when he focused most of his attention to ‘Astrid’? Or was it solely because of his attraction towards her? Either way, I could see how he would think that we were safe based on that reasoning. But…

“Are you sure your ‘Astrid’ just wasn’t playing a dirty lie to raise her rank?” I blurted. Such an action wouldn’t be unheard of, considering she attacked me not even five hours after I’d changed Hiccup from his human form into his present one. That female had ambition and wasn’t afraid to use it for her own good. It unnerved me to think that our fate was resting in her disgusting, greedy hands.

Hiccup leaned forward and locked me into place with his eyes. “Yes.” The link formed again, fierce and strong.

“Well…but…” I struggled to come up with anything else; I knew that whatever I said, Hiccup’s unwavering trust would provide him with an answer. He was so strongly committed to it that I knew that all arguments I had would fail. With a little bit of effort, I looked away and broke the connection. “Fine. I’ll trust you, Hiccup. But not your friends,” I hissed. I felt like I was saying some curse, admitting to believing those disgusting humans! If it weren’t for Hiccup’s upset, passionate response to my first question, then I probably would have continued the conversation just to defend my honor.

“Thanks, Toothless,” Hiccup breathed in relief, blowing away my feelings of rage and embarrassment. “I have something I need to ask you, too.” When I looked up in surprise, he smiled sheepishly. “I sort-of hinted at it, but you didn’t get it.” I continued to be silent, not recalling one word that could have possibly ‘hinted’ at a question. What was Hiccup saying?

He pawed at the ground nervously. “So, uh, when I left the cove the other day, you were acting…well, normal. Your usual self. Later on that night, though, you…er…” he trailed off, eyes glazing over momentarily while he tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to say, “…you started to sincerely care about me. And I you. What made you change your mind about me?”

My eyes widened and my ears stood on end. I was not expecting that. I’d thought that Hiccup had just accepted it as how I was going to act from now on. It struck me as odd that he choose the incident a couple nights ago as the day I began to care about him; that had happened when Hiccup had nearly drowned. Then I realized that he wouldn’t have figured that out, since I’d tried to stay as impassive as possible to not seem soft.

I lowered my gaze, tail twitching slightly. “Like I said…I thought you had left me after awhile.” I grimaced at the memory of the panic attack I’d had: flying against the cove walls and slamming myself into them over and over, screaming wordlessly, and desperately trying to escape. I noticed in the edge of my vision that Hiccup, too, had flinched at the sentence. “When I couldn’t get out…well…I don’t know,” I sighed in frustration. This conversation was more uncomfortable than the one from yesterday!

“Go on,” Hiccup encouraged lightly. I looked up at him to see that he was giving me kind, understanding look, as if he knew what words I were struggling with. It suddenly hit me that Hiccup may have as hard a time as I do when talking about himself; he’d implied that he’d been something of an outcast even before all of this happened. Realizing that I was dealing with something that he’s been facing for years, and that I had no right to complain in comparison, I mustered up the courage to continue on.

“I…guess I realized that I missed you. A lot,” I grinned hesitantly. “Once I ‘figured out’ that you’d left for good, I started to panic because I thought I’d been abandoned and couldn’t handle it.” I looked up at Hiccup, who looked immensely upset with himself, and went on, “I was the happiest I’d been in a long time when you woke me up. Trust me, it caught me off-guard, too,” I snorted. “I guess I finally understood how important you were to me then, which is what caused my, as you call it, change.” I purposely made my voice as high-pitched and nasally as I could, making an impressive imitation of my friend’s voice.

Hiccup giggled and got up, trotting over to me. “I know I’ve been saying this a lot, but thanks. I really appreciate you telling me, particularly since it’s so hard for you to talk about your feelings.” He butted my chest affectionately and rubbed his cheek against mine while I stayed frozen in shock. After a second, I cracked a smile, not really knowing how to react to the hybrid’s immediate acceptance of my emotions. It felt…nice.

“Thanks for understanding,” I murmured, leaning on him and closing my eyes.

It was then that Hiccup’s stomach decided to growl. We both jumped and looked at his stomach, watching it as it rumbled and complained for food.

I burst out laughing when said dragon attempted to cover up the noise by hunching over and hiding his face underneath a wing in mortification. “Why don’t we go have breakfast?” I suggested, playfully pulling on Hiccup’s ear to get him to stand up.

“…okay!” He squeaked, ducking his head and trying his level best not to smile.

So that was how we made our way over to the forgotten pile of fish on the opposite end of the cove. I grimaced at smelling how some of the fish had rotted in the sun. Neither of us complained, though; we were too happy to have something to put in our bellies that it didn’t really seem to matter.

I let Hiccup start the customary sharing routine, taking one fish, and then letting me take one, and then him, and so on. For awhile, we just talked about…things. We didn’t mention yesterday or the conversation we’d just had. I was surprised at how easily the words left my mouth, like nothing was holding me back. We talked about the weather, favorite types of food (I warned him to stay away from those damned eels—not only did they have a repulsive scent, but they were poisonous, too!), told stories to each other, commented on the local wildlife and played a roleplaying game of Hiccup’s design…everything, really. I’d never had such a conversation in my entire life. Most dragons…don’t feel so open around each other. Never, actually.

I felt like I’d been missing out on something.

“So, I thought, ‘well, this sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea!’, and managed to make my way all the way across the tree log, only for it to break and leave me stranded on the other side of Raven Point! I was like, ‘well, didn’t see that one coming’!” Hiccup was saying between laughs as I struggled to remember ever having a talk like this. I eventually gave up and became engrossed in the story, disbelief etched across my face.

“You managed to get lost in your own forest?” At Hiccup’s bewildered stare, I roared with laughter. “Oh, Hiccup!”

Hiccup threw a fish at me, one of the last. We’d agreed to finish off the supply before the rotten parts made the food inedible. “I didn’t get lost, I was just…forced into finding a creative way out. Nothing wrong with that.” He nodded to himself. “In fact, now that I think about it, I’m glad that I got lo—sidetracked. Because then I found a nice little trail in the forest.”

I snickered. “By sidetracked, you mean you stumbled over a hill or something and got covered in bugs and weeds.”

The smaller dragon slumped. I nearly fell over, I was laughing so hard!

“I’m gonna steal your fish,” Hiccup mumbled, trying his very best to not laugh. It wasn’t working. At all. I shook my head, beyond words, and scooped up the tiny meal and swallowed it in one swift movement. “Well, fine, Toothless. Now you’ve got to tell me an embarrassing story!”

I snorted, still not quite over my amusement on Hiccups “not lost, but creative walking!” story. “Fine. Let’s see…hm…well, a long time ago, I was crawling through some caves by the seaside. I remember that I was young and still dependant on my family. I wanted to prove to them that I wasn’t useless, so I’d decided to hunt for a troll.” As I said this, I tapped my right paw on the ground to animate my story.

Hiccup leaped to his feet excitedly. “Trolls exist! Nobody believes me! Well, my mentor does, but still, it’s true!”

I know!” I gasped, sitting up straighter. Finally, someone who knew the truth! “And I swear I caught one, but by the time I’d brought everyone to see him, he was gone! They never stopped making fun of me for that. It was mortifying.”

We looked at each other wisely, holding equally sage expressions and nodding delicately. It took about three seconds for the two of us to burst into amused peals.

With a snort, I nudged the last fish towards Hiccup. When he protested, I interrupted him, “No, you haven’t eaten as much as I have. I managed to hunt down a few deer before getting caught in here, so you take it.” When the tiny Shadow-Blender still refused to take it, I smiled. “It’s fine, really.”

Hiccup reluctantly took the fish and swallowed it. A small, shy smile rested on his face.

I returned the gesture. The two of us fell into a calm, slightly awkward silence then, neither of us quite sure where to look and both of us quickly looking elsewhere when we caught each other staring. Out of lack of anything else to do, I turned my head towards the area that the Vikings had come in the previous day, ears perked. I couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, still…

…So, maybe they had kept up their end of the deal.

“Hey, Toothless?” Hiccup piped up eventually. I turned to look at him, and he continued, “How can you understand human speech?” He tipped his head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly and forehead wrinkling a little. “I’ve thought it over for a long time, but I can’t figure it out.”

I sat down and wrapped my tail around my paws. “Well…uh…” I flicked my ears, struggling to remember. I knew the answer; I just couldn’t find the right words to explain it. “The dragon ancestors knew that humans were becoming their main enemies, and they were losing,” I explained slowly, hoping that I was making sense, “so they sent out their smartest spies to observe humans, especially the young ones, to see how they would communicate. What they did was concentrate on the words and their immediate meanings, and then took into account their learned words and the situation. It took several years and even more fatalities, since several of the spies got caught, but they eventually mastered the language. Norse is what you call it, right?” At this, Hiccup grinned and nodded, and was there…pride in his eyes? I preened, continuing with a big smile, “So, it became a custom for all of the older dragons to learn Norse. Once that had happened, the spies took off south to teach other dragon nests how to do the same. Eventually, instead of waiting until dragons came of age, parents simply taught their young the language.”

“How?” Hiccup asked, confusion flickering across his face. “I mean, it seems kind of hard to explain a language.”

I shook my head at this. “The sentence structure and the basic grammar were explained, but most parents taught their hatchlings by taking them down to human settlements and having them observe, like the ancient spies. They also used magic to speed up the process by inserting memories of learning and ideas of the grammar in small intervals. That’s how I learned, anyways.”

“Oh. Creepy.” Hiccup laughed at my deadpan expression. “But, hey, you know what that means? I’ll bet that men can learn dragon language, too! It can be called…Dragonese!” He ‘popped’ at this, jumping on his hind legs and spreading his wings and tailfins. I rewarded him with a sarcastic expression.

“How clever,” I said dryly. Hiccup beamed.

A thought suddenly came to mind, interrupting my next sarcastic remark. I straightened up and asked, “Hiccup, can you explain to me that whole scratch-marks thing you did yesterday?”

Words could not describe how furious I had been when Hiccup had switched to his ‘silent language’ during the conversations with the humans. I’d been left in the dark, only able to understand what exactly was going on by the hatchlings’ reactions to what Hiccup was writing, or if I was lucky enough to hear one speak out loud. I’d never felt so vulnerable; here I was, inches from the enemy, and I had no idea what they were saying to each other!

Hiccup grinned widely at this. “It’s called ‘literature’. See, human languages have two forms: verbal and written. How the written language works differs with the specific languages, but with Norse, the symbols—or runes—represent sounds. When you mush the sounds together, you get words like the ones we speak.”

I nodded in understanding. How…interesting. Dragon language was only partially verbal. Now I wanted to look at his ‘writing’ again, to see for myself! I got up and sauntered my way over to where the meeting had taken place, looking at the faint scratches that Hiccup had made in the dirt. I scrutinized it as best as I could, walking around the runes by moving only my hind legs and leaning in very close to them. Very carefully, I began to copy the ‘words’ underneath them, struggling to use my longest claw as Hiccup had done yesterday.

“See, there you go! Not exactly legible, but you get the point.”

I paused, glancing up at the freckled Shadow-Blender standing above me with a smile. “I think I see a pattern. But it’s so complicated…” I sighed in frustration, glaring at the ‘runes’. “I can’t figure it out, but I want to.”

There was a laugh and a playful push to the side. “You can’t learn an entire language in one day, Toothless! Especially off of one sentence.” I snorted and shook my head stubbornly. “Here, I have a better idea. Watch this!”

I yelped when a shadow appeared over me and flattened myself to the ground. Hiccup landed a few feet from me and continued with his running off in a random direction. I huffed in irritation; he’d nearly knocked my head off!

He was already coming back when I’d sat up with as much dignity as I could. The smaller of the two of us held a small stick (about a meter long) in his mouth, and attempted to grin at me without looking stupid.

“What are you—“ I asked, but never finished.                                           

Hiccup leaned down and dug the stick into the ground, moving it in a strange pattern. I got up and leaned over his shoulder, head bobbing to follow the wood’s path. My mouth dropped open and I had a sudden intake of air when I realized what exactly my strange friend was doing.

He was creating a Shadow-Blender in the dirt!

“Let me try!” Before Hiccup could protest, I’d grabbed his stick from his mouth and run off a distance to a new patch of dirt. I mimicked Hiccup’s posture earlier, determined to place a perfect picture of our kind in the earth for all to see. I started with the eyes, then the head, and the wings—oh, I forgot the nose—now the legs, and the tail, and the tailfins…done!

I dropped the stick and sat back to view my work at a different angle, nodding in approval. Now that was an accurate representation of the best species on earth!

When Hiccup walked over, I leaned back, pointing with one paw at the dirt. “Look! I drew an entire Shadow-Blender.” He sat down next to me and tipped his head to the side, a slight frown on his face. I blinked, confused. “What’s wrong?” I inquired, “Do you not think it’s good?”

Hiccup looked at me and smiled sheepishly. “Y-Yeah, I think it’s good, Toothless!” He told me cheerfully…too cheerfully.

“You think it’s bad,” I realized, slumping. I couldn’t believe it! My picture was amazing!

“Well…there are some parts that are anatomically incorrect…” Hiccup trailed, “Like the legs…and wings…and chest…but other than that, it’s great! Especially for a first try!”

“First success,” I corrected him. He just raised an eyebrow at me, amused, while I smirked. “Thanks, though,” I said modestly, dropping the ‘I’m perfect’ act.

With a nod, Hiccup got up and started a little doodle of his own, using his claw to add to my picture. “It’s strange, though,” he said dreamily, “to think that you guys knew all along what we were saying. If only you knew how to write…we’d be able to form a truce between dragons and humans.”

I hunched over for real this time. “It would never happen,” I told him softly. “The others wouldn’t be able to agree.”

I hadn’t really meant for Hiccup to hear it; I was just talking to myself, really, wishing for the millionth time that the spell could be broken. He caught onto it easily, though, and perked up, concern written across his face at my sudden drop of a good mood. “What do you mean, ‘wouldn’t’?” He asked, stopping in his drawing of the two of us flying and turning to face me fully.

I hesitated. Should I tell him about the Queen? I didn’t want to bring him into the core of the war. Knowing him, he’d want to do something about it; Hiccup was kind-hearted enough to worry about people who wouldn’t care if he were alive or dead…I doubt he’d want to stand around and do nothing, knowing about the massive spell pushed over the entire nest.

“…Toothless?”

I snapped back to attention. Hiccup was right in front of me, concern shining in his eyes.

The link between us burst to life. Hiccup knew something was wrong and genuinely wanted to help me. I, on the other hand, was worried about what he would do when he knew. The clash of emotions left both of us feeling touched, but wary of the story nonetheless—especially when determination set in on the Viking’s side.

With a forlorn sigh, I gave in. “I…I don’t know how to explain this without being blunt…” Hiccup gave me an encouraging nod, egging me on. I took in a breath and calmed my nerves. We were going to be okay. Telling him wouldn’t hurt anyone. “Okay, then.” I straightened and looked my friend in the eyes, refusing to reveal the truth while looking away—a coward’s act.

“There is a gigantic dragon—no, a monster—controlling the entire nest with her magic. Once a dragon is pulled in, there is no escape, and they lose all of their free will and thoughts.”

Hiccup’s reaction was to be expected. He jumped back and away from me with wide eyes, ears and side-frills pinned against his head. “What?!” He cried, leaning back and whipping his tail back and forth. “But…but…It’s never seemed that way before…and you weren’t affected…” An unspoken horror seemed to flash before his eyes. “Were you?” The Shadow-Blender whispered.

“No,” I sighed, and he immediately relaxed and straightened out, albeit still wearing an extremely unsettled look on his face. “But, sometimes, I wished I was. Since Shadow-Blenders have the strongest magic, besides the Queen, I was unaffected. I was helpless to stop her, and by the time I realized she grew stronger and bigger by each day…it was too late.” I hung my head. “I had the chance, and I missed it.”

“You can’t put the weight of an entire nest on your shoulders,” Hiccup pointed out gently. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against mine, staring into my troubled eyes. “It’s unfair to yourself.” He pulled back, sadness etched across his face, and asked, “Toothless…you were the only one free of the spell, weren’t you? Were you the only Nigh—I mean, Shadow-Blender in the entire nest?”

Despair hit me hard. I wanted to speak, but felt like I couldn’t, like I wasn’t allowed to. Why did I pull Hiccup into this? Why didn’t I just skirt around the subject? He would’ve understood. And all I could do was nod grimly at him, wishing fiercely that this conversation had never come up. The bond formed again, and Hiccup visibly recoiled under the memories of emotions that I had felt; fear, loneliness, anger, confusion, grief…all of it. I scrambled to get a grip on myself, to hold any of it back, but I couldn’t break it up even when I looked away. Hiccup bravely kept the link up on his own accord, letting himself drown in the tales of an unspoken past.

When it cut off, we were both quiet for a long time. My eyebrows were pulled down low over my eyes, a thick frown planted on my face, ears drooping. I looked down, to my side, avoiding Hiccup’s gaze. I…didn’t want to remember…It was too painful. I needed to recover—I needed to think of something else—those humans were awfully stupid—

“How long?” His voice quivered, and he winced, like he was about to be struck.

“Before the Great War,” I murmured, staring at Hiccup’s picture on the ground. We were flying in it. My throat constricted and I heaved a breath.

“And you were alone.” Smiling, in the clouds.

—Well there weren’t clouds there but I imagined them and it would be so nice to be able to fly again—

“Yes.” I could barely even hear myself say it, much less form the word. A rush of emotions flooded over me, a wall I’d so carefully built broke down. I felt a lump form in my throat and swallowed harshly with rapidly blinking eyes. It was no use; years upon years upon years of having absolutely no one but myself attacked me all at once, grabbing my legs and wings in greedy, clawed arms and rushing me down into darkness. I squeezed my eyes shut and gritted my teeth. I wanted to slap myself; I was a Shadow-Blender! We do not wallow in despair. This was humiliating

I heard him take in a deep, shaky breath. Hiccup stepped up to me and paused. Then he brought a paw up, grabbing my shoulder, and tightly wrapped his wings around me. I gasped, eyes snapping open, but all the strange little once-was-human did was bring his other arm around my neck and bury his face into the top of my head. What was this? What was he doing? I squirmed out of instinct—were those monsters dragging me back down?!—no, it’s Hiccup—calm down, Toothless. All Hiccup did was tighten his hold on me, murmuring soft comforts.

I stared into nothingness, struggling to breathe. My heart was hammering like a Buzz-Wing’s wingbeats. Hesitantly, I brought up my paw and gripped the arm that was on my shoulder. A second later, my entire body wracked, and I buried my face into Hiccup’s chest. My body shook from nose to tailtip so hard, I thought my scales would fall off. Hiccup squeezed my shoulder and fell silent.

We sat like that for a long time.

-----

“I’m sorry for overreacting.”

“No, don’t be sorry at all!”

I moved my head from its resting position on the ground and onto my leg so I could see Hiccup. He was standing in front of me, glaring. The harsh look fell when he took in my solemn, tired expression.

“Don’t be mad because you actually opened up and talked to someone, Toothless,” Hiccup said. “It’s a good thing.”

I pushed against the ground and sat up, saying, “I know, but for me to completely lose it like that was uncalled for…and unfair to you.” Shaking my head, I gave him a truly apologetic look.

I was furious at myself for breaking down like that. That was, in no way at all, acceptable. Yes, ‘opening myself up’ is good and all, but I should have done it in another way. Maybe by talking or slowly over time. I should have known better than to let my guard down and let all of my emotions hit me like a tidal wave. Now I’d dishonored myself in front of the gods and Hiccup by acting so recklessly. Even if he had held up to the custom of comforting another dragon in distress, he shouldn’t have had to in the first place.

Said dragon groaned and shook his head at me. “No, it isn’t.” He leaned down to my eye level and said, “Toothless, if you didn’t let go eventually, then you would have imploded. You would ‘lose it’ in a way a lot worse than just letting your emotions out. I don’t know why you think otherwise, but it’s really a good thing.” He offered a soft smile that I warily returned.

I didn’t really believe that, but I did want Hiccup to feel better; he was almost as upset as I was throughout the entire time, offering comfort nonstop. So I guess I would…try to go with it.

I glanced up at the noon sun, praying for guidance. My instincts and gut told me to act with what my past had taught me…but something else, just as strong, said to follow Hiccup’s lead. I just hoped that I made the right choice…or at least one that would redeem me.

“Toothless,” Hiccup started, but I stopped him.

“I’m fine now. Really,” I gave him a weak grin—a weak grin that slowly melted into a real one. I wasn’t ‘fine’, but I was feeling better. Maybe he was right.

I let out a breath of air, closing my eyes. I let the harsh, coiled up emotions within me unknot themselves, exposed. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.

When I finally felt I could handle returning to reality, I reopened my eyes and gazed at a confused, concerned Hiccup. It suddenly hit me hard how worried he was. He cared about me. He deserved my trust, not my instincts.

I had no right to keep him in the dark after he’d done his best to make me better. Taking this thought, I acted on a sudden impulse to let things go as he’d said. I began to talk.

“I…I think the reason I was so upset,” my body tingled with sudden nervousness, “was because it brought up memories.” I cringed at how dumb I sounded and continued awkwardly, “I mean, speaking of the Queen forced me to remember the terrible things she’d do. When she was small enough to fit in and out of the nest, she’d direct groups of dragons to float just above the ocean. When a sea dragon came by and she forced it to jump out of the water to eat them, she only grabbed onto it when it was done and the entire group was dead. Did you know that sea dragons are cannibals, too? I would’ve never thought—ugh, I’m getting off-point. Whenever she found a dragon strong enough to resist her spell, she’d rip off their wings and throw them out to sea. It didn’t take long for me to become the only one left that could resist. To make it worse, whenever other dragons with strong magic would come by, like Forest-Cutters and other Shadow-Blenders, she would make them go through a test of endurance, and if they failed, she killed them. But it was really just a fake act, because she was only making sure if she could enforce all of her will on them. I saw a friend of my older brother die because of that—he openly resisted. And this other time, she—“ I stopped abruptly, realizing that I was rambling.

My thoughts swirled around in my head with no rhyme or rhythm. I struggled to right them, to get them to work the way I wanted them to. I had the idea of what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find any words. It was frustrating, gods damn it!

“What I’m trying to get at is…” I trailed off, concentrating. After several moments, I gave an aggravated sigh, shaking my head. “It’s not that I was forced to watch her do bad deeds!” I growled, nose wrinkling slightly. I knew the answer. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I felt like my language had escaped me, and I was left with a description but no way to say it. “I mean, that is a part of it, but it’s not the one that should be focused on…I can’t word it—“

“I think I know,” Hiccup interrupted me, holding a paw up from his seated position in front of me. Understanding clear in his face and voice, he said, “You were lonely.” I was silent, and he continued, “I understand that…I didn’t really have anybody growing up. I was kind of the village screw-up.” He shrugged passively, as if it didn’t matter. I tipped my head slightly, but when he showed no reaction, I took the hint and ignored it.

I pawed at the ground. He was right. I didn’t need to say it. A small part of me remembered that I’d already realized this, and had forgotten due to the stress of the situation.

The Viking continued on, feeling the need to explain himself, “Even before my mother died, I’d never been able to get things right. But afterwards…it’s like my dad pushed all of his and her expectations on me at once, and I couldn’t handle it. I wanted to do things right…but I always seemed destined to screw up.” He gave a little smirk along with the sarcastic remark.

“You lost your mother?” I gasped, feeling a tingle go down my spine and my muscles tense up.

Hiccup grimaced. “She got sick,” He explained, getting up and pacing around me. “The elder said that a wound from a dragon bite got infected…something about that species’ saliva being poisonous.” He shook his head at this, closing his eyes momentarily. “I don’t know. She fought it as long as she could, but nobody could do anything. She passed in her sleep.” He bit his lower lip, pine-green eyes faded over with memories.

I stared, open-mouthed. Was this…a coincidence? Had the Dragoness of the Moon played this out specifically?

Shifting slightly to get the blood rushing through my legs, I tipped my head to the side and studied the brown Shadow-Blender.

“It’s…uncanny,” I spoke up gravely, causing Hiccup to come to attention. “My own mother died from illness, too.” Flashes of old places and dragons—my mother, my father, a fire in a forest, my older brother flying off forever, a village on lookout—all swept before my eyes. I gulped, taking in a deep breath through my nose and letting it out through my mouth. When I spoke, my voice was soft. I attempted to distract myself by trapping a rather large grasshopper between my paws and keeping it from escaping. “We were spying on the nearby human village because we’d seen a bunch of them wandering around our caves. I remember that it was one of my first missions to help our group and that I was the most excited I’d ever been in my entire life. But I was young and didn’t know the way back...so when we were spotted, we tried to run instead of leading them directly to the others. Something hit my mother and she fell down, so I lit a fire to block off the humans and we somehow managed to get away.”

It felt like it had just happened; like I was reliving those terrible moments. I picked up the grasshopper delicately, between claws, and looked up at Hiccup. He briefly glanced at it, a hint of pity in his eyes. I looked back at it, sighed, and dropped it to the side, where it immediately hopped away in frantic little bounces. “We ran into the open fields, where my mother collapsed from exhaustion. I thought that we were going to leave by morning, even though her wounds were deep, so I wasn’t too worried. I didn’t expect her to be unable to get up by sunrise.” Hiccup’s breath caught in sudden realization, causing my left ear to twitch towards him. “I tried to bring back food since she couldn’t hunt. For days we sat there…through thunderstorms and dry, terrible heat. And then, one day, I woke up...and she was gone.”

“So that’s why you freaked out when I got that scratch,” Hiccup whispered. His surprise gave way to understanding, and then what looked to be a sad form of happiness. “I…I…Thanks, Toothless.” He got up and dealt a swift head-butt to my chest. I brought my head back a little, surprise written across my entire face.

I nodded lamely. “Of course. It happened long ago, and it didn’t ruin my life. I survived and got over it…” As an afterthought, I joked, “And you’d better be grateful! Or else.” I really didn’t want to talk anymore.

Hiccup snorted and settled into a crouch, as tired of the incredibly serious, draining conversations as I was. “Or else what, O mighty dragon? What can you do if you can’t catch me?” He wiggled his rump at this with a daring look in his green eyes.

I smirked. Challenge accepted.                                 

I pushed off the ground and leaped at the unsuspecting Viking, a battle cry ripping from my throat. He screeched and scrambled away, but I was too fast! I grabbed his tail and dug my feet in the ground, holding my wings out for balance. With a massive heave, I pulled him close to me until he was close enough to pounce on. I sat on top of his shoulders and pushed his neck and chin into the earth, laughing maniacally.

“I win!” I cried. My tail swished and my ears slanted diagonally.

“You’re-crushing-my-neck,” Hiccup wheezed out, his tongue sticking out slightly.

I stepped off of him, rolling my eyes. A fish flipped out of the lake and flailed midair, immediately drawing my attention to the reflective pool of water. I didn’t forget to add in an insult, though. “You really need to learn how to move fast! I’ve seen quicker snails!” I boasted, licking a paw and running it over my cheek. “I mean, you’ve got wings and—AAAAH!

I couldn’t help but let out a (manly) squeal when a certain freckled Shadow-Blender charged right into me and somehow managed to knock me over! I rolled away from his front paws when he tried to slam them down on my chest. “Ha! You think I didn’t see that coming?!” I spun on my front paws, pushed off the ground with my hind legs, and catapulted myself into a shaky glide across the lake.

“Actually, no. You didn’t.” The swift sound of wings flapping told me that, once again, Hiccup had decided that he liked to cheat. I snorted, watching him clumsily fly towards me, determination set in his entire body.

When my unsuspecting victim got closer, I began to back up onto a boulder behind me, clawing my way up it. Hiccup had barely any time to turn when he realized my plan; all he could do was rear midair, hold out his paws, and let out a wordless cry that might as well have meant, “oh, shit! I’m doomed!”

“Amateur!” I teased, leaping in the air and knocking Hiccup in the stomach. He fell harmlessly to the ground and I dove, snapped my wings open, and swooped over the deep end of the lake and into the shallow.

“Don’t think you can get away with that!” Hiccup yelled, his voice shaking with laughter.  His shadow swooped over me just as I managed to crawl out of the freezing depths of water. His plan almost made me fret, but unfortunately for him, the hybrid decided that simply stopping midair and dropping on top of me would be a good idea. He obviously didn’t expect me to see his shadow get bigger and roll out of the way! “Oof!

I cackled at the way the human-turned-dragon’s wings and legs were splayed out. He scrambled to his feet and shook his head to clear it, eyes squeezed shut. Taking my chance, I turned and sprinted away, jumping onto one boulder, and then a higher one, and then onto a ledge in the cliffside. There was a slight dip in it, just big enough for me to crawl into and hide my form. Once I’d situated myself, I froze, watching Hiccup as he looked around in confusion.

“Toothless?” He walked around warily, eyes wide and pupils becoming less circular and more like wide slits. I grinned widely, creeping up the rock when he walked past me. Then I leaped, flapped once, and folded my wings into my body, silently launching into him in seconds.

Toothless, one! Hiccup, zero!

The Viking shouted out in dismay when I leaned right over his head and smiled darkly, allowing him only a second to retaliate. I easily jumped off and away from him. “You’ll never catch me, fool! I’m superior!

Hiccup took a battle stance, wings and tailfins held out wide, and shook his rear end playfully. “Thanks for the support. Really appreciate that!” With a heave, he pushed himself into the air, moving as fast as a dragon that just learned to fly could. “But prepare to lose anyways!” He dove for me, just barely missing when I ducked and rolled out of the way. To my great surprise, he managed to recover and swoop back into the air!

“I think you should be the one preparing!” I retaliated, shooting a tiny fireball at him and missing (on purpose, of course!).

We continued this for hours, one of us tagging the other and ending up being chased. Usually, Hiccup, the poor thing, would try to make a joke, but he really only ended up failing miserably at each and every single one of them. I felt it my duty as a Shadow-Blender to punish him for saying, “This is going to drag-on!” My method? Say nothing but terrible dragon puns until he finally gave in and apologized to get me to shut the hell up.

I lost count of the score, but I’m pretty sure I won. Actually, I’m very sure, despite what Hiccup would probably say.

It was only because of a fierce thunderstorm breaking above us that the game actually stopped. We both scrambled for the cover of the trees, but when the storm became irregular and violent, we were forced to take shelter in the cavern I’d created in the cliff wall nearly a week ago. It made me realize just how fast I had changed for Hiccup…and I was suddenly grateful to the gods for him shooting me into the cove.

We stayed inside the cavern the entire night, watching the storm swirl and boom and shake the earth. By the time we’d fallen asleep, though, it had calmed. Overnight and into the early morning, the clouds parted, giving room for the sun to rise once more.

So...tag scenes are fun to write...

Didn't realize there were two in one chapter, sorry! Oh well.

More characterization, info on Toothless' backstory and why he chose to act the way he did. And slightly-deadly tag.

One more part after this!

I Hear Him Scream (c) Me.
How to Train Your Dragon (c) Dreamworks.
Please do not use this anywhere without my permission!
© 2011 - 2024 rift-raft
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