Fanfiction in Honor of inhonoredglory's HTTYD 2

    My big brother Hiccup's Induction Day was tomorrow... And I could tell he was worried. There was a lot of pressure on him by our dad, friends, and the Council. The Induction Day also doubled  as his birthday, when he would turn eighteen. A few weeks from now, I'D be turning sixteen. Hiccup, and everyone else I knew, agreed it was a miracle I'd lived this long. You see, since I was very young, I've been very sick. For one thing, I have to either use a wheel-chair, or some special crutches Hiccup and Gobber made me ages ago. Hiccup perfects them even now.
    The other thing is that I have seizures sometimes. Not often, but they're bad when they come. Hiccup and dad, if dad's there, talk to me while I'm having one, so I'm not so scared. And sweet Toothless always fawns over me like a mother cat does its kitten. So very tenderly. Always, he gets as close as he can, and purrs words of comfort only a dragon can understand.


    I'm sure you're thinking that, aside from not being able to walk or run, and having seizures like I do, being Hiccup Horrendous Haddock The Third's little sister is the best thing ever, aren't you? Well, you are right. It is. He's the best, and sweetest big brother in the whole world. He's...heh, well, he's like a Night Fury. Loyal. Extremely loyal. Truly loving. Courageous and strong. Eternally faithful. Cleverly intelligent. Overly protective.
    Toothless...Hiccup and I both are just so...so taken with him. And so enchanted. He is a mesmerizing creature. When Hiccup had freed him, found him once more, and earned his trust enough to know he was safe for me, I saw him. However, Hiccup had kept no secrets of Toothless from me before I got to see him. He told me what'd happened at my bed-side as if it was a story of some great epic. On the day Hiccup had once again found him, before he had earned his trust, I had had a seizure, and was dead tired. But still I listened to his retelling, fighting to stay awake to envision the tale he was spinning me. Not a hard thing to accomplish. He's an amazing story teller. Every last detail, every last scale was vividly painted to me.

    The moment I laid eyes on that Night Fury, I wept at the joy churning inside me. At the great thing of beauty before me. A great thing of beauty full of grace..and shine as soft as a glow all about him. Before seeing him, I swear, I had never known true joy.
    From the moment he'd laid his penetrating eyes on me, I knew he could see not only the pain I had suffered-from the death of my mother, to my seizures-but everything about me as well. My personality. I think he could even read my mind. Quite literally. I wouldn't be surprised if he had, and still does. It's those eyes of his. They're so full of colors...so many colors! And they all seem to be tangled within tangles of each other that it's paralyzingly dazzling...and distracting. You don't even think anymore. And perhaps that's what allows him to see you. Really see you. Your guard is down. You don't even know or realize it. Don't even care. All you want is to become lost in those eyes. Those beautiful eyes that look at you with such a kind, harsh gaze, it mystifies you to no end, and you can never wrap yourself around such a thing as they.


    I don't want any special treatment in earning your trust. That's the one thing I recall thinking. Besides that I knew I wanted to bond with him. I wanted to be worthy. No questions asked.

    Special treatment? He gave me none.

    I remember earning it with more sweat and concentration I have ever used in my life. The only time I ever stood on my own...and the only time I'd ever taken any steps since I had lost them to some sort of muscle disorder. Well, I had lost them below the knee. Above there, I could still use them without pain.

But the pain that had shot through my lower legs was as intense as lightning. I'd never felt that much pain in them ever before...it was exhilarating. Every nerve in my body was on full alert. And then suddenly there was a rush of air, a quiet gasp from my throat as Hiccup yelped in alarm and hardly even took a step toward me...before I landed against smooth scales with a soft thump. I clutched at them more to keep from slipping off them into the dirt below. Salty tears fell onto Toothless's black-and-gray scales, but a bright smile was on my face. Lightly touching the soft hide to my pursed lips is something I remember the strongest. He smelled of fields, and long flights in the warm sunlight; of salty sea-spray, and fresh grass. Freedom.
    Can you not tell I treasure that day? The day I met a dragon? A Night Fury?

   
    Toothless is both my AND Hiccup's dragon in a way. And we are both his riders. He is a loyal, loving, and faithful dragon to the both of us. But I MUST say he's FAR more protective of me than he is Hiccup. He always has been, in a way. If he doesn't have a good feeling about something I'm doing, he MAKES it stop. We've learned to heed that. The third night he was living with us, I had a seizure...but before it had started, Toothless had started freaking out over me, as if he was looking for some sort of major wound on me but couldn't find it. Then everything went black, and I couldn't feel or do anything. Ever since then, he always knows when I'll have one. And knowing that I HAVE them makes him very fussy over me. If he can help it, he never leaves my side. He usually does his best to stay with both of us, but, in the end, if we go to different places and Hiccup doesn't need him for anything, he comes with me.
I think if he could fit, he'd even sleep in my bed with me. As it is, he just sleeps on a slab of rock beside it.

    Many times he has taken place of my wheel-chair. I'm almost always riding atop his back with my crutches tied around my arms when I know I'll have to get off to make way for Hiccup. But we usually fly together on him. The only time we don't, is when we want to be alone with him, or there's a contest, or some business to attend to. How do I fly him if I can't really move my lower legs? Well, Hiccup made a replica of Toothless's tail contraption that I can use with my hand.
    Flying...it's...oh, how do I describe it? It's unlike anything I've ever felt before. I only have a few memories of running, but flying still tops it by far. The wind sighs over both our wings, and smooths over my hair; his scales. And the views and sights you see...they're just fantastical. So thus, Toothless, a Night Fury, became my legs, AND my wings.





    So now I think I shall have to tell you my name, won't I? It means song bird in our language. *Patricadash. Patrica meaning bird, and dash meaning song.      Now, back to Hiccup. The poor man was exhausted. He and Gobber had been practicing sword fighting, and other military skills from before dawn till after sunset for nearly five weeks! Naturally, no one, and no dragon, were allowed to interrupt them except in cases of emergency family matters, or a sudden attack on the village. In fact, any interruptions were considered treason. And treason was punishable with choice of banishment, or execution. No matter who it was-Viking or dragon.
    On this particular morning, Hiccup's leaving had woken Toothless and me up. So to distract our minds, and keep Toothless from following Hiccup like the tender little dragon he was, I took him out on our boat.

    Oh, yes, I forgot to mention. We have a boat. It's rather like a miniature version of our war-ships. Only, it follows Hiccup's tweaked designs. So, it's faster, and lighter, and quieter than the rest. It's also black. We coated all the wood we used in a special, black sap that is flame retarded. That tree only grows on Berk, and it grows in abundance. People from all over the world seem to want it, for there are always large demands for it from the merchant ships.
    The head of the ship has the head of our Night Fury with teeth barred, and a threatening roar forever frozen as intimidation towards enemies. The rear is the tail, just the same as Toothless's. Strong, but changed to, in a way, be made all the stronger. We even took the extra time to carve the sides to form his huge, graceful wings. I sewed all the sails. Black, with a dark-blue Night Fury crest.

    We have a slight few foreigner Vikings from near-by places who live here. Some from Greenland, one from Iceland, and a small family from Finland, too. Hiccup and I had never even heard of that land before they had come. Some came for freedom of worship, but they came to start a new life. We're very good friends with them, and sometimes I catch Toothless playing with their little girl. The father painted *“Berk's Night Fury” in Norse on one side of the ship, and in Finnish on the other side, in a shiny silver. His wive helped me sew our flag with our coat of arms.



    The sun was just barely starting to show hints of its rays on the horizon's edge in the East. Toothless, up in the Crow's Nest with his tail weaved around the mast's base, was only just visible. A big patch of pitch black that blocked the sky's stars, bright green eyes glowing like neon flames. Almost blinding if they looked down on me, as if they were some sort of search light.     He grinned down at me from his perch, tail flapping absentmindedly against the smooth wood. I smiled. “Get DOWN from there, you silly boy!” I chided playfully. He shook his head just as playfully, with a funny sounding, “MmmmREWR!” Laughter shone in his big eyes beside his ever-present happiness. “What?! NO?” I laughed in a fake-shocked manner, as I huffed and crossed my arms, avoiding his gaze.  He laughed his broken dragon-laugh down at me in amusement, causing my smirk to unwillingly widen. But despite holding it in, I ended up bursting out laughing from his simple silliness.

    The sky had lightened to a deep royal-blue now, hints of lighter blue tracing over certain parts of it. The stars were no longer as bright as before either, only by a few degrees did their light still shine. I studied them pensively a moment, and then turned to look up at Toothless once again. He was also looking up at them, an expression of wonder gently playing over his face. He had always seemed fascinated with everything related to the night. The moon, the stars, the dead black of the sky, and the shadows and colors on the land and sea its darkness, and moon-light, caused. It was his Element. The night sky reflected brightly in his glowing eyes, pupils large and round as they gently swept over the endless expanse.
    Only the waves slapped quietly against the boat now, everything cold and still after the loud break of silence our laughter had caused when it rang through the air. The smiles that belonged to them were still on our lips, just ghostly reminders of them now. And for a moment, as he admired the sky, I awed at him, this Night Fury. His strong legs, hinds bunched beneath him as he sat, his cute and floppy ears, his powerful wings that tore through the air with delicate ease, and his long, graceful tail that ended with his harsh red tailfin, as bright as a splash of blood. The white skull and cross-bones flared out even more vividly than the red field it was painted upon. It certainly clashed, even though we had all gotten used to it by now. And yet it fit him perfectly.
    The Night Fury, dragon above all dragons, the off-spring of lightning and death itself. He certainly didn't look very death-inflicting right NOW. But I knew better. Rare gems as they were, Night Furies spilled the most blood of any of their Draconian partners. And inflicted just as much fear into the hearts of men as the pirate flag did to the merchant sailors.  A striking image of Toothless under command of a ship, sitting regally at the mast-head while he barked orders, or fighting faithfully by his Captain's side flashed through my mind, making me chuckle. He'd make a good pirate.  As if to further provoke my thoughts, salty sea-spray blew in my face and added to the layers upon Toothless's scales, blearing the moonlight that reflected off of them. He'd need a bath later to bring back the fullness of their luster.

    His power, beauty, grace, and calmness never fooled me. Just below the skin lied a wild, untamed dragon that I had witnessed been unleashed before. “Never underestimate the pure-black rage that burrows inside the chest of a Night Fury,” my father had told me after letting him stay. “It's a horrifyingly beautiful thing to watch, but it's always there. Always capable of escaping should anyone be foolish enough to provoke it. Remember, he's still a wild animal.” How true. And that demanded respect.



    The chilled wind sighed roughly over my bare skin, making me shiver as it bit its cold into me. Why had I forgotten my shawl again? It was too cold this early to be without it. Toothless, who seemed to always radiate heat, looked down at me with concern flashing in his eyes. He cocked his head, and chirped, as if asking, “Are you cold, dear one?”
I smiled to see him like that. It was far too cute. It made me remember that we held his heart in the palm of our hand just as he did with our own. Neither ever wanting to bend, and crush it, make no mistake. And it was just so sweet and, in a way, reassuring, to see him acting the proof of this, yet blissfully unaware of his doing so.  

    Toothless's eyelids drooped as his face eased and grew a smile. Soft affection glowed in his eyes as he bobbed down the foot-holds on the mast till he could gracefully leap down, agile as a great leopard. The he walked up to me till our eyes were inches away, and foreheads nearly touching. He sat, and just smiled warmly at me.
     His eyes... I had gotten lost in them so many times before, and now was no exception. They bore into me, yet didn't make me frightened. They made me feel small, but not in size as much as in age. Like a child with its innocence once again, who was looking up to a wise, noble father.
I traced one path of gold in them with my own eyes, and it abruptly halted as a green out crossed it. From there it changed from blue, to a blot of brown blocking the middle of it, to green again, and then a brighter, more vibrant gold. It was like the perfect combination of havoc, and an exquisite jewel. I was never able to stop staring into them once I started.     Warmth covered them now as he looked into mine. And at the same time, they became flooded with emotion; almost watery. I'd kill to know what he was thinking right about now. Yet on we sat just as we had been for who knows how long, just at we had many times before now; enjoying the simplicity, and marveling at the complexity of one another-human and dragon.

    Did you know dragons are hypnotic? But all are different with it. Some make you feel small, and afraid; intimidated. Some make you feel as if you're falling down some kind of spiral and have no chance of getting out. Some even make you feel as if you're dying very slowly. And then they finish you off. Those are the rouge ones we still haven't tamed. The Changewing, and, especially, the Skrill. Even the Night Fury had once been known to hypnotize its victims into false security before killing them.
    As for the ones we HAVE tamed, their hypnosis has actually been useful for the brutally wounded, and even the dying. It calmed them, and made them unaware of the pain.
     But if ever we had a man on the battlefield who was dying, and none of the dragon's hypnosis were strong enough to put him at ease, we would bring Toothless in. I remember choosing to watch one time. To help. It was one of my younger friend's father who was beyond  hope of being saved. Toothless, the poor little darling, stared into his eyes with a strong, reassuring calm. And within minutes, the man was at ease. Even talking to Toothless, telling him about his girl, and asking him to watch over her if she was ever in trouble. Our dragon mumbled a few words I think the father actually understood...for he smiled, and then breathed no more. The moment Toothless knew he'd slipped away, he shut his eyes tight, and, for the first time, I saw him cry. I never even knew dragons COULD cry. But Toothless did. And I confess, I was so shocked, and sad over the man's death, I didn't know how to comfort him. But before I could do anything, Toothless opened them again, a fire burning behind his eyes now,  and lifted his head to the sky. A firm roar echoed all over the battlefield, filled with triumph, rather than the sorrow I had expected.
Toothless had done the father honor. He had mourned him, and then celebrated his victorious death. For we were all safe, and that father's death had not been in vain. He had died a free man. And he had died happy, knowing a noble Night Fury would take care for his family in times of need, in his stead.




    I smiled as I recalled the memory, resting my head against his; closed my eyes, and sensed his closing as well. A smile played on his lips, and his head jerked slightly, jutting against mine sharply. He snorted in contented excitement, and nudged toward me again in a perky way. I grinned, and hovered my hand against his head's scales, so light that they barely fluttered against them, only scrapping into them when he jolted his head. He calmed a little whenever they brushed against his face. As if he could feel the warm calm coming off them in waves. I gently breathed out a hush. “Shh.” His small nose wriggled as I said it. My grin grew. “Mmshh,” I quieted again.
    “My dragon,” I breathed softly against his nose. “My Night Fury.” He snorted lightly and lowly in pleasure, almost fidgety with it bubbling inside him as he shifted from foot-to-foot; tail wagging.

    “Sh...hush,” I crooned. I was fully cradling his head in my arms now, pulling him closer and closer to me, and rubbing my nose against its top. The owner purred in utter delight, and hunkered down as I kissed him.
    My arms cuddled his head as it now rested in my lap, sleepy, one of my hands running over the soft, smooth scales. They felt like silk beneath my fingers. Liquid silk. Toothless's purrs were thick with drowsiness, and he eyelids fluttered whenever he blinked.  Awwww... Happy, sleepy dragon, I thought with a smile. The poor sleepy-head was fighting to stay aware of my attention he always ate up when it was lavished upon him, but weariness was winning the battle.

    My nails wormed under his chin, scratching and rubbing the sensitive scales that were much softer than the others along his body. Like a snake's underbelly. His tongue lapped out of his mouth as I did, and his eyes closed in pleasure. As he grew more soothed and sleepy, and I played, and tickled at his ears, his purrs grew less frequent and loud. I giggled softly, and scratched him once more, making his jaw snap shut after popping a big yawn.
    His face slowly eased, and his purrs faded to heavy, slow breathing. Sometimes it grew a little heavier, and sounded as if he were snoring. I smiled, and noticed the sky had lightened more to only a darkish-blue now. The fire-side warmth from Toothless had crept up to even my head, and down to my feet now, making me drowsy as well. I slumped against the wood, rubbing at one of my eyes, and looked down at the sleeping dragon in my lap. His eyes could be seen moving behind the lids that concealed them, looking at some image his mind was playing before them. I smiled. No doubt he was dreaming of flying, and eating all the fish he could desire after-words. I watched him sleep until I myself could no longer keep awake, one hand still resting on his head.