Chapter Text
“Err, Stoick?”
“Yes, I know.”
It was approaching midnight, and Toothless had given no indication of giving up his pursuit. You couldn’t really see him against the night sky, even if you concentrated, but every once in a while, there would be a shadow darting across the moon, or a whoosh from wings that were close, but too dark to see. Even I had a hard time spotting him.
Whoosh. Dad’s brow crinkled as he automatically tried – and failed – to find Toothless. There was a thump further down the deck as Toothless tested us and touched down for a moment, and the boat rocked gently from side to side. For a moment, Dad’s throat tightened, as if he was going to shout something.
“I don’t think he’s leaving,” Gobber said.
Dad curtly said, “Nope.”
“So, does this mean he can stay?” I bounced up and down, the excitement too much for my tiny body to take.
They didn’t even notice me hopping around their feet. Dad turned the wheel a bit to the right, and the ship groaned in response. He said, “It’s a bit too late to chain him back up at Berk.”
“Eh, let him come,” Gobber said. “Without Hiccup around to tell him no, you’re not going to get much choice in the matter.”
I preened. That was right: I was Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, Dragon Trainer Extraordinaire! It was nice to be acknowledged.
“Where did he go anyways . . .?”
I played with the idea of staying hidden, but fate made the decision for me when Gobber stepped on my tail.
“Whoops! Sorry, Hiccup. Didn’t see you there.”
I curled my tail in close, fighting an urge to lick it better.
“You better call your dragon in,” Dad said. “He must be getting tired.”
I didn’t remind him that Toothless was a Night Fury, and wasn’t about to fall asleep because the sun went down. I hopped down to the deck, and squawked loudly for my overgrown lizard.
“Not you,” I said to a yawning Sneaky.
Click. Toothless claws dug into the ship’s rail. Judging by his posture he still wasn’t sure whether he was allowed on the ship; his front legs were held up, so that only his back ones attached him to the ship. His wings were extended on either side, taut as if they were pushing against something. At the shoulders, he hunched forward, so that his silhouette represented a large vulture.
I squawked again, inviting him onboard. He chuffed and rubbed against me. Hello. I love you.
“Love you, too, bud.” I craned my neck back, and touched his neck with my snout. I could feel his heartbeat.
The door to below deck swung open. Some big, smelly Viking came out. I don’t think he even noticed Toothless and I as he made his way across deck. He exchanged a few quick words with Dad, who patted him on the shoulder, and then they swapped place at the wheel. The ship groaned as the new captain adjusted its course, as if it was protesting the change in ownership.
“Well, Hiccup, I’m off to bed.” Dad paused, the door to our private quarters open. “What are you doing?”
I shrugged. Toothless might be allowed on the ship now, but I knew he wasn’t allowed in the cabin with us. So, it was only fair that I stayed outside with him.
“Are you sure?” Dad asked. “It’s going to get cold . . .”
I took my paw, put it on my chest, then slid it downwards as I gestured to all of me. Dad, dragon. Remember?
He cleared his throat. “Right. Goodnight, then.”
“See ya, Hiccup!” Gobber said as he turned in for the night, too.
Waves beat against the hull in a steady beat. Above, a thin sheet of clouds passed over the moon. Without Gobber and Dad, it was pretty quiet. The ship had ceased complaining, and the guy at the wheel didn’t seem to have any interest in starting conversation. Granted, seeing that Toothless and I were dragons, it would have been a very one-sided conversation.
“Be a nice night for flying,” I said. I shifted my wings a bit, letting them taste the air. Toothless cooed.
On an impulse, I climbed up the mast to the boom, and perched on its tip. Toothless was too big to fit on there with the sail, so he clung to the boom upside down, instead. I could see over the ship rails now, trace the curve of waves glimmering with starlight and see beyond that to the black horizon. There was no land in sight. Just us and the empty ocean. If I were to fall in, no one, save maybe Toothless, would be able to see me. And yet, the more I stared . . .
“Whoa!” Apparently, I had opened my wings. A stray gust caught them and sent me tumbling back to the deck. Toothless unhooked his front claws, and straightened up . . .err, down, I guess.
“I’m fine.” I wandered back to the base of the mast, and stared. I could just climb, but where was the fun in that?
Time to fly.
“Ugh!” My wings slapped against the wooden pole, getting me nowhere. Toothless flexed his on an angle, no doubt trying to give me an example.
I growled. My claws chaffed the deck. I back up a few hops, charged and leapt –
Smack went my face into the wood. My wings continued to flap a couple times more, then stopped. Toothless winced.
“Okay . . . I think I need a change in strategy.” I stood up on my hind legs, and flapped my wings. Must have had a wrong angle though because I pushed myself backwards onto my back.
Toothless squawked. He dropped from the boom, and bounced in his let’s go flying dance. He danced up and down and around, and then, with his side facing me, slapped his tail loudly. Then, again.
Tail? Okay, tail? Mine seemed intact, so that wasn’t the problem. I hadn’t shredded it with my hilarious attempts at flying. But it must have had to do something with flying. Experimentally, I slapped my tail. It made a sound like a wet fish. My tailfin opened naturally with the impact. Is that what he wanted?
Nope, didn’t work. Still ended up on my back. Toothless kept slapping his tail insistently.
“I think I’m going to give up on that. No taking off for me . . . But we can glide a bit. You’ll catch me, right?”
I didn’t wait for his answer. I scrambled back up the mast, perched on the tip of the boom where the sail wasn’t in my way, and opened my wings . . .
The wind caught me quickly. It ripped me right off the boom, threatening to send me tumbling head-over-heels. I flailed; my tailfin opened, then shut again, confused.
Deep breath. Deep. Breath. Just remember how it felt the first time: straighten out, and extend . . .
There. My body complained a bit from being so stiff, but I was no longer in immediate danger of falling into the ocean. My chin was raised, and my chest was puffed out so that my back felt like it was arching downwards. But my wings and tail were straight, and I knew those were the things carrying me through the sky right now.
I slowly relaxed, going muscle by muscle just to be safe. My neck actually cracked when I rolled my head. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear and smell Toothless behind me. A good thing, since the ship had decided I wasn’t worth waiting for. It was a yard ahead, and steadily increasing the distance. I doubt anyone had noticed they had a dragon overboard. (Overair? Not exactly sure what to call this).
“Gliding, check. Great. Fantastic. Uh, I don’t feel like taking a dip into the ocean today, so let’s skip turning. So, how do you make this thing” (I wiggled my body as I said that) “go faster?”
I knew from observation that Toothless always needed to flap his wings to do that. Seemed harmless enough. Though it was actually harder than it looked. It wasn’t like taking your arm – a human one, might I clarify – and flapping it up and down. Nope. Wings were light and wide, and the air pushed back when they wanted to move. Much more like moving your arm through water. Too much of this, and I knew I would be aching in the morning.
For all my flapping, I didn’t get faster. Just slower. And higher, actually, so that’s one mystery solved. That figuring that part out hadn’t been on my list soured my excitement a little. Here I was flapping my wings, just like Toothless would, so why wasn’t it working . . .?
Once I did that, started to analyse the mechanics of my theory, it hit me. Duh! When I just flapped my wings aimlessly like this, all my force was directed downwards. Of course I would move upward. It made perfect sense. So much that I wanted to slap myself. If I wanted to go faster, all I had to do was use my wings to push myself forward. I could do that. While it was the muscles in my back and shoulders that controlled the actual flapping, there was a thin of layer running along the main bone in the wing, as well. It was how dragons were able to curl and shape their wings.
I curled the ends in, and forced my wings to curve down, so that they no longer sat in a straight line with my shoulders. And then I flapped.
I think I was going faster? The ship was still moving fast, so it was hard to tell. But there was one thing I knew for sure: the water was rushing at me much faster.
Too steep! My wings must have been at too steep an angle. I set them level again, and pumped hard so I didn’t get a sudden crash course in what it was like to be a Tidal Class –
And there went Toothless. Swooping down toward the waves with me, and then rising again in an arc without ever flapping his wings.
Show-off.
“Okay, I’m still in the air.” That was true, but the boat was starting to grow distant. “Uh, Toothless can you take me back?”
A bit of squawking and pointing got my message across. Toothless came up underneath me, letting me settle on his back, and made the trip in what, two seconds?
“And that is enough for today. Come on, we should get some sleep.” I automatically walked toward my cabin, before I remembered Toothless couldn’t come.
“So, what’s your plan?”
Apparently, it was to hang from the boom and sleep upside down. Typical. He held his wings opened and cocked his head to one side.
Coming?
Sure, why not? True, the idea of sleeping upside down didn’t appeal to me, but I was sure I could just point myself up.
I ran up the mast, and then dropped down onto Toothless’s chin. He grumbled a little, but didn’t put up too much up a fuss. A second passed and then his wings enveloped us in darkness. I stirred a bit in my leathery cocoon, until I found that spot that was just right.
I closed my eyes.
The gods were smiling on us. So far, it had been very smooth sailing. Though there were a couple of times that the oars had to come out, the wind was fairly steady throughout our entire voyage. The weather was perfect: brisk, with a slightly overcast sky so that it still appeared sunny but we weren’t burning our skin off. At night, the stars were bright and easily found. A perfect journey. But, as with all things, there was one little downside to all of that:
It made things really boring.
If there wasn’t any trouble, there was only so much to do on a ship. I actually had it easiest: being as small as I was, there was plenty of room and things for me to play with. I could even get a good workout just running around the deck. Plus, I had Sneaky and Toothless to occupy my time. Can’t say the same for the others, though. Gobber had spent most of the last couple of days at the wheel, but even his body seemed to sag with boredom. Apart from the man in the crow’s nest, most of the other adults were lounging around the deck, sipping ale from huge mugs. It was like a party, but with most of the energy sucked out.
The exception, of course, was the twins. They were currently practicing their sword-fighting skills with a couple of fish. They sparred back and forth across the ship, leaping over crates, ducking under arms, and coating Fishlegs’ scalp with a layer of fish slime. He didn’t notice, as he was too busy reading through the witch’s journals.
Ruffnut tripped suddenly, and Tuffnut went in for a blow . . . only to be wrestled back by Snotlout, who defiantly stood between the two.
“Hey, you can’t hit a lady when she’s down!” Snotlout said.
“A lady? Have you even seen her?” Tuffnut scoffed. He beckoned to Ruffnut, who was wearing a lopsided, smug smile.
“Ruffnut is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met!”
Fishlegs peered up from his reading, detecting a threat.
“That’s right.” Ruffnut walked up behind Snotlout, and rubbed his shoulder. With her other hand, she pressed her fish into his chest. “Now, go get ‘em!”
As Snotlout charged, she wandered away to where Astrid was watching. She grinned. “Boys.”
Astrid smirked. “Boys.”
I stirred. “Okay, Sneaky . . . Now!”
As Snotlout wielded his fish in a wild, overhead blow, Sneaky and I leapt off the boom and rocketed toward the two. Our wings were tucked in tight, legs, too, so that we were moving at maximum speed.
Time slowed. Adrenaline made each of my heartbeats thunder through my chest as black spread from the edges of my vision, so that all I could see was my target and his fish. Wind whistled past my ears as I mimicked Sneaky: I snapped my front paws forward, spread my toes out so that there was space between the claws that glistened black, and reached.
Success! My claws snapped shut automatically when they detected the first bit of fish. Next to me, a happily shrieking Sneaky stole away Tuffnut’s fish. Our speed was so great that the two teens didn’t even have a chance to hold on. Nope. These fish were ours!
Just one problem.
How do I stop this thing?
Crack. I remained splattered against the gunwale for a second before gravity finally realized I was there. Toothless laughed.
“Oh, Hiccup.” As Sneaky crawled over her, Astrid came over and scooped me up. “Are you okay?”
I tried to give her a thumbs-up.
“Serves him right,” Tuffnut said. “That’s what you get for stealing from me!”
He went over to the fish, presumably to pick it up and begin the struggle anew. I was perfectly willing to let him have it; my head hurt too much to fight over that. Sneaky, on the other hand? In a word, no.
“Get back here!”
Astrid had trained him for speed, so Sneaky easily outmanoeuvred Tuffnut. At one point, he gracefully skimmed the top of Fishleg’s head, and Tuffnut ungracefully knocked the larger boy over in his attempt to catch the Terror.
“Hey!” Fishlegs scowled and snatched up the journal, holding it tight to his chest. He shuffled back to his spot, and began reading again.
“Find anything yet?” Astrid called to him.
“Nothing on wanting to change humans into dragons,” Fishlegs said. “I’m actually starting to think that this isn’t the witch’s journal, and actually belonged to her assistant.”
Astrid groaned. “So, back to square one.”
“Maybe.”
“Hiccup!” Dad burst out of his quarters. “What about the winter? How will they feed the dragons, then?”
“For the last time, Dad, dragons have survived winters long before they started living with Vikings! The sea doesn’t usually freeze over entirely.” That’s what I wanted to say, but sadly, Dad didn’t speak dragon. So, I barked at Fishlegs to give me parchment and something to write with, and set to the very long task of writing it out.
“Right. That makes sense. Wasn’t there something similar in here . . .?” Dad shuffled through his pile of hastily scribbled notes. With every jerk of his muscles, a sweat-flavoured odour rolled off him like water off a duck. If that wasn’t enough of a clue, his quick, whip-like motions and mumbles clearly said that he was nervous. For good reason. Dragons weren’t exactly Dad’s strongpoint; I was supposed to have carried the bulk of this meeting. Not to mention, if things went horribly wrong, there was a chance war was on the horizon.
“Alright,” Dad said, “what about . . .?”
Then, the man in the crow’s nest began to shout. One by one, all eyes turned to the distant horizon.
“Stoick,” Gobber shouted, “get the dragons inside. We’ve spotted land!”