Truths
"Hiccup!" a muffled voice cried out.
Hiccup groaned and rolled out from under the warm wing as Toothless similarly shifted. It was the middle of the night. Who would wake him and Toothless up right now?
He blinked, yawned, and looked up into concerned yellow eyes. There was only one Fury adult who had such eyes.
"Hunts-In-Deep-Waters, what is it?" he asked, yawning again.
"The cub is coming!"
Huh? What? Oh...
All his weariness and confusion was instantly gone as he jumped to his feet.
"Oh, okay... I will get Haerfara!"
He ran up the slope with Toothless scrambling along behind him. There was no time to waste. It felt like only seconds later that he started pounding on the door to her house. The elderly woman immediately answered the door, as though she had been awake anyway. She probably had been, given the chair by the lit fireplace and the knitting supplies on the ground by the chair.
"It's time?" she simply asked.
"Yes."
"Alright, get the stuff on the table."
He grabbed the blankets, bucket of water, and a small knife which he pocketed. Then he followed her hobbling steps outside toward the stable. Toothless fell in beside him.
"Ready?" Toothless whispered.
"Nope."
"Just like our flying the first time?"
"Not helpful, bud..." he grumbled.
Toothless snorted and gently shoved his shoulder.
"What I meant was that you were fine when you trusted yourself."
"Fair enough. Thanks."
He said nothing else as he continued to the stable. As he expected, Hunts-In-Deep-Waters was pacing outside the stable, alert for anyone approaching. The Fury saw them and growled softly before realizing who it was.
"Sorry," Hunts-In-Deep-Waters mumbled, "I am worried for her..."
A whine of pain came from inside the stable. Hiccup stepped over to him and put his free hand on the Fury's nose.
"Don't worry. She'll be fine."
Hunts-In-Deep-Waters nodded once, glanced at Haerfara, and then glared at Toothless.
"Burning-Star, you should not be around her now..." he softly growled.
Toothless grumbled.
"I want to be here."
"And I do not want you here..." Hunts-In-Deep-Waters growled.
"What's going on?" Hiccup asked.
Hunts-In-Deep-Waters grumbled and looked down to his paws.
"I... it... is twisted thinking, yes, but my mate is hurting... and I do not want... other males around her."
Hiccup nodded, understanding that reluctance. It was entirely fair to not want anyone not in the family around her now, so he faced Toothless.
"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. You just stay out here and keep everyone else away."
"Fine. I will," Toothless groaned and lay down.
Satisfied, Hunts-In-Deep-Waters then spun around and bounded into the stable.
"Let's go," Haerfara groaned and fearlessly followed the Fury inside.
Another whine of pain followed from within, and Hiccup stood still, rooted in place out of worry. What if anything went wrong? What if he screwed up? What if the baby didn't make it? What if...
"Go..." Toothless purred.
Hiccup took a deep breath, drew some encouragement from that reassurance, and followed Haerfara into the stable. It was easily one of the strangest and most awkward things he had ever seen inside.
Lightning was on her side in the straw while whining and trembling, clearly in great pain already. Hunts-In-Deep-Waters was sitting by her shoulders and was nuzzling her head while whispering to her. Haerfara was kneeling by her hindquarters and gently feeling her lower belly.
He took another very deep breath to steady himself, squared his shoulders, and went to stand by her. It was so awkward to be involved in this, but he had agreed to do this for the good of the pack, for Lightning, and for the baby.
Lightning groaned again in pain.
"How long will it take?" he nervously asked.
"A few minutes or hours, who knows?" Haerfara shrugged.
Great...
Toothless winced at another yelp of pain from Lightning within the den. Birthing sounded like the most painful thing possible in life. His own losing a tailfin hurt much for a few wingbeats, but even that pain was gone and over quickly as he rolled to a stop in his fall. It had not even hurt after he woke up.
He was going to tell his dam that he was sorry for hurting her when she birthed him long ago.
Birthing did not seem to happen quickly, and the dams all endured it. They knew that it would hurt, but they became dams anyway. The life-warmth of having cubs was greater than the temporary pain the dams felt.
He could not think of anything braver.
Despite that, he wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. Somewhere he could not hear the yelps or growls of pain would be much, much better than being here.
But he had agreed to watch the den and keep anyone else out. The sounds had already awakened some of the humans or brought over interested guards who had wondered what was happening. He had explained the situation, and they had departed, not wanting to involve themselves. That was probably for their own good.
More than them though, he was also worried about Hiccup. True, Hunts-In-Deep-Waters had said that he would help to keep Hiccup safe if Lightning were to do something she did not mean to do. But that was not a reassurance he truly trusted. It was not as though he dared dashing into the birthing den himself. No, doing that would have been a very bad and twisted thing to do, since doing that would probably would result in biting or flaming.
The problem was that he was unable to protect Hiccup right now. He had protected Hiccup from so many dangers already that not doing so now was a change. It felt like a duty of his to be there for Hiccup after having done that so many times before.
Then he heard wings in the sky above as Snowfall dove in and touched down. She looked toward the den and then glanced to him after she heard the sounds of pain from within. She knew what was happening without needing to ask.
"I will bring the pack!" she barked and bounded away into the night.
Bring the pack? What?
That was twisted. Was it not better to leave the pair alone for this? Perhaps this was a ceremony he did not know about. Now that he thought about it, there was a comfort ceremony he had heard someone talking about. Perhaps that ceremony is what she meant.
The rest of the pack, everyone who was present anyway, started arriving later. They touched down or scrambled up the hill, adults, fledglings, and cubs, and packed in together a short distance from the occupied den. Even Jumps-At-Fire was present a short distance away on her own.
They started purring very loudly in all their slightly different voices. The united purring filled the night with comfort, presence, and strength. His own purring joined with theirs as he lost his own awareness of time. They were together as a pack to comfort one of their own in a time of need.
It felt like someone was looking at him, so he glanced around. Then he saw Moonbeam's purple eyes as she stared back at him. Neither he nor she looked away or blinked.
There was what looked like a very different feeling in her gaze now, here in this fragile and timeless moment. There had once been cold, subtle condemnation, and lack of trust. Was she truly different, or did he just see what he wanted to see?
He knew what he wanted.
What did she want and could she accept him as he was? He and she had talked much the last few days, but they had not talked about each other as possible mates. He had not yet openly asked her about that so important question burning in his soul-fire.
Maybe he was just afraid of getting an answer he did not want to hear.
Motion up at the den got his attention. The old female, Haerfara, left the den and slowly walked off while carrying the bucket and furs which Hiccup had grabbed from her den.
Hiccup appeared in her place in the door to the den. Hiccup looked very tired, and his furs had a dark stain as though he had been in very bad fighting.
Great skies, what happened?
Hiccup then beckoned with a wave of his paw.
He, Wings-Of-Ice, and the Alphas slowly approached the den as silence fell over all. What had happened? There was no more yelping of pain, nor was there a wail of loss. He glanced inside and saw Lightning on her belly with Hunts-In-Deep-Waters coiled around her far side and with a wing over her back.
Hiccup slowly knelt at her head and stroked it.
"Lightning," Hiccup whispered, "do you want to show them?"
The very weary Lightning shifted the wing at her side without even opening her eyes or moving.
His purring resumed when he saw the little female cub resting at Lightning's side and partly hidden under Lightning's tailfins. It was the first time he had ever seen a newborn cub, so small and precious. Her head rested on her forearms as her chest and back rose and fell with every breath. Her tail curled around her side, showing off very tiny fins. She had been wiped or licked clean and was now deeply asleep. The only strange thing about her was that she had no wings, probably because they would grow out eventually.
One more thing to ask his dam about later.
Then Lightning's wing went back in place and hid the sleeping cub from view. Hunts-In-Deep-Waters hummed at them and then nodded toward the door in a clear dismissal.
Hiccup got up and came outside to meet them.
"So?" Snowfall softly asked.
"They are both well. No problems," Hiccup whispered.
"Good. Did they name the cub?" she continued.
Hiccup looked up toward the large golden den that held the bonding-ceremony.
"Yes, she is Hunts-Golden-Light."
The name spread through the pack to much purring of approval. Everyone else, except Wings-Of-Ice who probably wanted to see his sister's new cub more closely or just be around her now, started wandering off to return to rest after hearing that both dam and cub were well.
He remained with Hiccup and gently nudged him with a silent question.
"I don't know..." Hiccup breathed.
"It sounded like it hurt a lot."
"Yeah, it did, but she was so happy when she saw her cub."
Hiccup looked at his bloody furs.
"Haerfara did most of the... involved work this time, but I think I can learn what I need to know... if I'm needed to help anyone else."
He purred and joined Hiccup in staring toward the den. Wings-Of-Ice was sitting just outside the door and gazing within.
"I still do not understand what you think is awkward about it. Helping the dam and the cub is good."
"I agree," Moonbeam hummed as she padded up next to them.
They both jumped in surprise at her sudden appearance.
"Moonbeam, what are you doing here?" Hiccup asked.
She purred softly, gazing toward the den.
"I wanted to see a good thing. Something I... hope can be..."
He and Hiccup glanced at each other and at her. She then loped a short distance away to Mystery. Hiccup then shrugged and wiped his paws on his furs.
"Well, I'm going to get cleaned up and then go back to sleep. See you back there, bud?" Hiccup asked.
"Sure. See you at our family's rock."
Hiccup then walked off into the night, leaving them alone.
He faced Moonbeam again, seeing her gazing at the den as Mystery trotted away toward the rest of the pack. Moonbeam's purring was so beautiful and soul-fire warming but also a little sad. Her fallen ears were a further sign of some inner chill.
Was he so sure what she wanted? It was a little unclear what she meant only a few wingbeats ago. Did she hope to see Hiccup help with a newborn cub? Did she hope to have a cub of her own?
He did not know, so he trotted to her.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"About what?"
"About what just happened: the new cub."
She purred deeply.
"I am glad she and her dam are well. Lightning and her mate deserve that after... what happened before."
"What happened?" he asked, curious.
She huffed and shook her head.
"That is not for me to say."
She then spun around and stared out into the dark plains.
"I want to play in the morning. Running in the grass and up the hills out there would be fun."
"Do you want... me to play with you?" he warily asked.
She chuckled deeply and leaped past him, gently smacking him in the face with her tail.
"What was that for?" he barked.
More of her beautiful laughter followed.
"That is for you twisting your tail! Yes, I want you to play with me!"
Then she hopped into the sky and glided off toward the slope where the pack rested. He so wanted to leap after her and fly for her. Chase her into the sky, up in the moonlight, and...
He thought about that good flight as he walked alone through the night back to the rock with the rest of his family. He remained awake even after Hiccup returned from cleaning himself up and lay down at his side.
The sound of his entire pack humming as one in comfort had long since faded from the skies, but that warming sound had not faded from memory. Far more important for him than the comfort-ceremony was the very brief time he had alone with Moonbeam.
She had just showed him some wanting, some interest in bonding with him through play. That was a good warmth which Jumps-At-Fire had never shown him, not without any prompting anyway.
Between the anticipation of time with Moonbeam and the excitement from the new cub, it was very difficult to go back to sleep.
Moonbeam was waiting for him when he woke up just after sunrise. He got to his paws, stepped away from his brothers, and stretched everything in the cool morning air and soft wind. Without needing to say anything, he followed her down to the Edoras wall, hopped onto it, and glided down outside onto the plains.
She walked with him and flicked her head toward a distant slope where he knew that a small stream flowed. He followed at her side, neither of them saying anything as they walked through the long grass covered in morning dew. The air was filled with a good chill.
He knew that his thinking was being very twisted just by being around her. Was this anything like how his sire must have felt when being around dam before they became a pair?
They walked down the slope on which were growing several small, woody bushes, and then hopped out onto the sand around the stream. Everything was very peaceful out here on their own.
She bent down to drink from the clear water. He was entirely happy to watch her lapping at the stream.
She is so beautiful. I...
Then she lifted her head and turned to him, shaking her head of the water. She sat there staring back at him, ears lifted and with a soft hum.
But he had no idea what to do. Jump at her and pin her? Dance in a spin? Ask her to be his mate if she could accept him?
None of those felt like they had lift alone. Giving in to eagerness had not worked out well with him and Jumps-At-Fire, and that was a life-lesson deeply learned. But he knew he needed to show her some of his wanting and let her know that she was important to him.
She asked him to play with her this morning, so he would!
He lunged and nipped at her tail which she flicked out of the way. Her ears flew up as she spun toward him.
"What is this?" she purred.
"Have you never played before?" he barked.
"Yes! I have! Not... recently..."
He briefly recalled that Breath-Of-Sky had mentioned: that Moonbeam played with the cubs but not with any adults.
"Why not? I want to play!"
She looked away and said nothing immediately. Was she upset or sad about something?
Then she looked back at him, growled with warmth, and crouched down, her tail swaying. She was ready to play. Good.
"Run!" she shouted and leaped at him.
Great skies!
He spun and ran away as she chased his tail, running and leaping through the grass, and up and down hills. As fun as it was to be chased by her, chasing her would be better! He pounced on a large boulder, spun around, and started chasing after her; she barked in surprise and dashed away from him.
Chasing her was so soul-fire warming. He had done this before with Jumps-At-Fire, but that had been so different and... less. She had not truly wanted to play with him or bond. Moonbeam did, but did she want more?
Play was good, but... it did not truly help him know if they could fly the winds of life together.
They arrived at the bottom of a valley in which there was a small stream with a sandy bank. She hopped across the stream and then spun to face him as he settled down on his side of the stream.
"You cannot catch me!" she shouted.
He rolled his eyes.
"I let you escape! If I were truly trying to catch you... I would have!"
She snorted and laughed freely. He was very happy to listen to her teasing laughter. But was there more they could do?
Playing roughly with her, play-wrestling, would be very fun, but... she might not be comfortable with that. That kind of play might only be good for a pair of mates or those like mates, since the play could easily become... more.
Something else would be better to show her his wanting and let her feel his soul-fire. What could he do?
Then he noticed a small branch. There was a lot of sand around the stream. There was something she had surely never seen before!
I know!
He spun away from her, bounded over to the branch, and brought it back in his jaws.
She looked very confused but also interested in what he was doing.
Then he got to work, carefully dragging the stick through the sand. His tail smoothed his pawprints wherever he stepped.
Spinning. Purring. Lines and curves. A couple dots. A dance of creating and making be.
Done!
He bounded away from his creation, tossed away the stick, and sat down, holding his head and shoulders proudly.
She stared at the picture; her jaws were open and eyes wide in amazement. The head, ears, eyes, and wings were very clear in the sand-picture of a Light Fury.
His ability to draw was much better now than it was the first time Hiccup had shown him image-making in dirt.
But did she know what this meant? Hiccup had once said something like a picture was the same as a thousand words, which was very many.
"Burning-Star?" she whispered.
"Moonbeam..."
"What is this?"
"It is you," he purred.
She looked away and hummed, not even her tail moving.
"Not what I meant."
"You know what it means. I want you."
She glanced at him and then stared at the picture again.
"I thought you did," she softly said.
He cautiously walked alongside her, sat down, and was very pleased that she did not move away.
"Yes, I do. You are so beautiful, strong in your soul-fire, and good to your kin. What you did for Mystery all those winters ago... amazing of you."
She purred and looked down to his paws.
"And you are brave, strong, and know more about humans than I do. You have a good, warm soul-fire to your kin also."
She glanced at the picture and then sighed.
"I do not know..."
"What?" he whispered.
She stepped away from him, threw out her wings, and jumped for the sky, settling into a hover above the slope. Then she dove for the top of the ridge.
He got to his paws and started up the ridge on the ground, leaping and bounding after her.
So what if he could not fly!
He arrived at the top of the slope where she was waiting for him. She sat down and curled her tail to her front paws when he sat down beside her.
"What do you not know?" he asked.
She stared off toward Edoras without saying anything for several wingbeats.
"Life is very confusing. How different all might have been."
He was unsure what she meant by that, but it was probably that she wanted to hear more clearly from him what he wanted.
"Moonbeam?"
"What do you want me to say?" she whispered.
"That you will be my life-mate. I want you."
She purred and hung her head.
"I do want that. You want that. But what about... flight?"
"What about it?" he winced.
She sighed.
"We already talked about this. I will not have Hiccup help you... do that for me, for us. What if you need to fly to help me and a cub, but Hiccup is not there? Would you forgive yourself for that when we got hurt?"
He bit down the growl of anger and despair. This same nibbling problem would never leave him alone!
"What if that never happens? Life of peace with humans might be that different. What if I can be a good mate and sire even without flying on my own?" he explained.
Her tail tapped on the ground.
"Maybe," she admitted, "but that is hard for me to think is true. It is so different from our ceremonies and ways."
"But so much of life with humans is different and better. We will never be hungry from bad hunting or very cold."
She looked away toward the mountains.
"Yes, together-life does have warmth. I can see that. Still, what if they are not always with us? What if the peace does not live?"
He did not want to think about that possibility. There was no reason for the pack to ever leave the world with humans, Elves, and everyone else.
"We... would still have the pack. All could help some with the hunting, and I would help more with the cubs. You could fly and hunt more in my place."
"True, but what if the pack breaks up also? What if life is only you and me, living on some distant range on our own? How would you provide then when I could not?"
He could not think of an answer to that. She was correct that he was... not like the other male Night Furies. Even so, her questions were very frustrating, as if she was... fighting even the possibility of them being together... even after she admitted that she wanted him too!
"Are you... trying to find reasons to say no to me?" he sighed, looking away from her.
She whined and stepped away from him.
"Burning-Star, I am not saying no, but I... need to think more about this."
She threw wide her white wings and jumped for the sky. He had to chase after her! He could not let her escape! Chasing after her would show her how important she was! So he bounded after her, gaining lift as he desperately followed her into the sky.
So near and so far.
But his flight was fouled, just as every flight was now.
The false-tailfin was not alive and did not answer him as he tumbled in an unsteady glide while she soared freely toward the clouds.
He crashed down and rolled head over tail to a stop in the long grass. Then he quickly righted himself and stared up at her with a weak whine of longing as she flew away.
Nothing was hurt on the outside. His wings, limbs, and tail were all unharmed from the small fall.
But his soul-fire was so cold.
He could not hate her or be angry with her. Her fear was not unreasonable at all.
It was also not total and permanent rejection. She implied that she might change her mind in the future. She had already changed so much in the moon-cycles he and Hiccup had known her.
He could and would wait for her. She was worth it.
But he still lay down alone in the long, swaying grass, and whined at the cold inside his soul-fire. The cold was not just from his own lacking a mate. Having one would be very good and would make life much warmer, as if that could ever happen. There was nothing he could do about this problem. Maybe Jumps-At-Fire was right about him when she said that no other female would do for him what she had. It was entirely possible that he could not be wanted at all.
The terrible truth had never been clearer: he was a lesser dragon.
Hiccup stood on the Golden Hall's slope from where he had the best possible view of the surrounding countryside and the sunrise. He had been awake since he heard Toothless and Moonbeam run off together very early. The two Furies were now up on a distant ridge far outside the Edoras wall. They were visibly playing with each other, chasing after one another like fledglings... like Windripper and Snowflame sometimes did.
It was not truly his business what his best friend did, but he was naturally curious since it would impact his life also. The two Furies had been spending more time together and talking more openly about what they wanted from life.
Some part of seeing them spending time together had been slightly bothering him. That was probably because it was change, and change was never easy for anyone. He also thought Toothless was being too obsessed by females. First his being with Jumps-At-Fire and now his interest in Moonbeam? What was wrong with him? There was far more to life than just that!
He had in the past asked Sky-Dancer and Far-Flight to explain Night Fury wooing ceremonies, and they had explained what was customary. Moonbeam apparently adopted many of the pack's ways as her own, in addition to Light Furies and Night Furies being similar in that part of life. There were no surprises as far as he was concerned. Both kinds searched for a life partner once they came of age, and that desire was a very strong one... not so differently from how humans wanted that also. So... Toothless's desire was normal and natural, probably also strengthened by now being part of a pack in which he saw several mostly happy families.
He noticed that Toothless and Moonbeam were visibly talking about something, neither of them moving from where they sat facing each other. He greatly respected Moonbeam for having endured so much in her life and still turned out well. Everyone had problems, and she was no different. Even better, he had helped her figure out one of the root causes of much of what troubled her. She had become much happier and calmer since the night of the festival.
The only ongoing problem for them was that she could not seem to truly accept Toothless, just because he was grounded. That was frustrating, her not being able to accept Toothless as he is, but it was also understandable of her. It was entirely fair of her to want a mate who was capable of providing, protecting, and contributing at least equally to the relationship.
Was that even possible for Toothless? Maybe so. Moonbeam just needed to be more understanding and accepting of the new world they all lived in. Their not being together was her fault.
His thoughts went back to everything that happened last night with helping Lightning as a midwife, which was a strange term to apply to himself. It was still hard to believe that all happened, but it had. He had held the messy, blood-covered newborn Hunts-Golden-Light as she squirmed in his arms. Then he got to hand her off to her weary mother after helping clean the baby. After leaving and getting cleaned up, he had not really been able to get back to sleep, which left him weary and drained even now after waking up.
The longer it took before he was asked to do anything like that again... the better. But... as a way of helping protect life, it was a duty he could... maybe get used to, if that was needed.
His musing was broken when Moonbeam took to the sky. Toothless jumped after her and tried to fly after her.
"Bud... you know that won't..."
Toothless stumbled in the sky and then fell to the ground in a distant crash. Toothless immediately scrambled to his paws and stared at her as she flew off toward the clouds.
Hiccup looked away from that, feeling a stab like a dagger in his own heart. It was as though his best friend's apparent rejection was also his own.
But why was he short of breath also? He wasn't the one who was just rejected.
Disturbed, he left the ledge and walked toward the Golden Hall. There would be soup and oatmeal available for breakfast, but he didn't feel hungry once he got to the Hall. Instead, he aimlessly wandered, lost in his troubled thoughts. He strolled alone into the part of Edoras where most of the common folk lived and worked at their various tasks, at least for those who worked in Edoras itself.
He continued past the stables where the people of Edoras sometimes kept their horses. There were entire herds of horses that ran and grazed freely around Edoras; they were not trapped because the Rohirrim respected and trusted them.
A shadow passed overhead. He held up a hand to block the sun, and he saw one of his packmates, he could not tell who it was, gliding on the morning breeze flowing across the plain. Someone had gotten an early start to their day.
More idle, aimless strolling followed until he found himself inside the forge set aside for him. Being in a forge had always been one of his safe spaces; it was familiar and known... somewhere he could do something useful and be productive for others.
All the supplies that he had gathered to begin working on his wingsuit were still there: the leather, straps, steel balls, joints, string, everything he needed was on the table. He had everything he needed to make the wingsuit, so he grabbed the leather and considered starting some of the work. Losing himself in crafting had always helped whenever he was upset in the past.
But something stopped him this time. He just held the leather, stared at it, and was unable to start. His thoughts were frozen, fixed on... something. Why was he so weak, his arms trembling as he braced himself against the table?
"Gods, what's wrong with me?"
It had to do with Toothless, that much was certain. Specifically with Toothless being grounded. But there was nothing more to learn about that sad fact. He had already apologized for that old injury, and Toothless told him several times that there were no hard feelings.
He was short of breath, so he took a deep breath. Was there frost creeping on the ground? No, there was nothing there. It was not that cold of a morning.
'Yourr... frriend... iss holding you back even now... you arre nothing but a tool to him...'
Old words spoken out of malice by an ice dragon slithered from the shadows of memory.
'A thing he ussess to feel ssaferr and morre powerrful...'
"No..."
Those false, vile, and cruel words were just meant to hurt him and Toothless and to drive them apart! Do not think about that. Just stay as he was now in his safe space with nothing changing. Just lose himself in forging his wingsuit.
There is nothing true in Vorunturth's words to see or learn.
He already knew everything he needed to know about his life!
Or did he?
It almost felt like an important truth was hidden from him... or was hiding from him.
He had always been interested in how things worked, which was why he had been so accomplished in the forge and at inventing stuff. Learning more was always necessary to find when a machine or tool had a flaw or problem.
What was that whispering in his thoughts or heart? Was it conscience? Why was that whispering nudging him toward those memories in the same way as he had to look into the downed Night Fury's eyes before he killed it?
He had looked and had learned something very important. He had learned that he was not who he thought he was, and that the Night Fury was not what he thought it was. Together, those truths had changed his life for the better in ways he had not imagined possible.
Was this any different? Maybe not. Critical examining of the past, not sparing feelings at all, had helped someone else learn an important truth very recently.
So he looked more closely and thought about his life, trying to hide nothing from himself.
He had been nothing before Toothless, back on Berk and in his life as a Viking. He had been a useless failure, unable to be what they wanted him to be. Never having what it took to truly be one of them. But he was always stubborn just like them, and that stubbornness came from himself. He was never one to give up.
However, despite how much everyone on Berk joked about their stubbornness issues, willpower alone was impotent. Ideas needed a means to be made real. He was not strong on his own, not compared to everyone else on Berk anyway. It felt like he was almost powerless without Toothless.
Almost like he was nothing without Toothless.
That hurt to admit, but it was true... almost. His knowing Toothless gave him power and a way to change the world for the better by mitigating his own weaknesses and limitations.
It felt... good to adjust the tailfin's position and influence... and control the dragon's flight as his own.
'I see his broken tail and I... wish it were not.'
Moonbeam wished things were different.
Toothless was his wings.
His own wings.
'Do you think you could heal my tail?'
Toothless wished things were different.
No other's wings.
Not even Toothless's.
Eyes lit by starlight flashed in his memory as Galadriel walked away months ago.
'Hiccup Haddock, you must learn to trust yourself and him...'
He dropped the leather and stepped back from the table, completely struck numb as the truth, so terrible, crashed down on him and shattered his blindness.
How easy would it have been to do before now? He had known for months that he could make it for Toothless, but he had avoided doing so. He could have given Toothless back his flight when they were living in the Shire or in Rivendell. There were enough supplies and simple forges there and since then that he could have used.
To make an automatic tailfin.
It was so clear now.
Some part of him wanted to hold on and not let Toothless fly on his own. Giving the Fury his freedom again would mean letting go of control. It would mean giving Toothless full control of his own life. It would be an act of trust.
Toothless needing him for flight was a way of forcing Toothless to stay around with him, thus limiting his potential. It forced their friendship to be partly one of need and usefulness instead of true respect and love.
Toothless not being able to fly kept him from being with Moonbeam. His being grounded was probably the only obstacle to them both now.
How many times had Toothless rolled his eyes or huffed in joking annoyance after asking to be taken on a flight just to properly relieve himself or get a drink of water?
'And what of yourr human massterr?'
Vorunturth, that malicious and perceptive ice dragon, had been right about him. Keeping Toothless grounded was a way of hoarding him, just like a true Middle-earth dragon would with what was precious to it.
He fell to his knees, covered his eyes, and wept freely, thinking and feeling nothing except shame as his own motivations were laid bare at last.
What a terrible friend he had been, to so limit his best friend's life for his own personal gain. No, it was not even gain; it was just greedy and needy of him.
All from what? How had he gone so wrong? At some point Toothless had started becoming something he needed to keep around.
Why had he been so worried about other people using the Furies or wanting to fly for the wrong reasons? Had he only been seeing some of himself in them and therefore been condemning part of himself through what he said? Was he seeing his own problems in other people and then being quick to blame them... out of hidden shame or hypocrisy?
Finally, weak and weary, he wiped his cheeks dry with his sleeve, steadied his breath, and rose to his unsteady feet.
He held his head and tried to not think about anything, but he completely failed at that. He glanced at the table and immediately realized the obvious: everything he needed was right there on the table.
He knew how to make the automatic tailfin right now; the design was a modification of the original new tailfin. Lacking the other lines and wires that led from the foot-pedal to the tailfin, the gears, levers, pulleys, and straps would roll with and respond to the slightest change in the natural tailfin. He could probably even have a first draft of an automatic tailfin finished by the end of the day if he worked tirelessly without stopping.
It would be imperfect flight only. Nothing he could build would ever perfectly replicate the natural tailfin Toothless had been born with and lost.
But it would give Toothless freedom to fly on his own and to come and go as he wished. Toothless deserved that at a minimum.
Truly, Toothless did not deserve him. No, the Fury deserved far better.
"I... am... so... so sorry. I... wish I had been a better friend for you, bud..."
He blinked, wincing at his own words.
"Bud. Bud? Oh gods..."
Had he always been talking down to him... like someone would with a steed or beast of burden? Some of the Rohirrim affectionately called their horses by that endearing term. Maybe calling Toothless his bud was fine initially, but it was slightly belittling. Just one more small way he had not been respecting Toothless as he should have.
He exhaled, closed his eyes, and heard only the random noises of other people outside the forge. Everyone else was going about their tasks as they started the day. Pushing carts, leading cows or horses, working on metal in distant smithies, carrying various supplies...
'All you have to decide is what you will do with the time that is given to you...'
Gandalf's words spoken to Toothless after Helm's Deep echoed foremost in his thoughts.
He knew that he had screwed up so much out of simple fear and lack of trust in Toothless and in himself. Sitting here in the forge, spiting himself and being miserable at how terrible and ignorant he had been, would change nothing and would not help Toothless's problem.
So what was he going to do about it?
Gaining trust in himself and forgiving himself for being so faithless would certainly take time, but this... giving Toothless back his flight... he could do now if only he could let go.
He took a very deep breath to steady himself as he looked around the forge. The shame, the grief, the failure, all of that could wait for later, so it must. He had to apologize to Toothless for all of this, no matter what telling him the truth meant for their friendship, but he had work to do right now.
He stuck a fire in the furnace, and then he grabbed a knife and the leather. All the other supplies were frantically gathered on the table as he began organizing them. There was no need for a design on paper; he knew it already by heart.
Nothing else mattered for now. Not rest, not food, not the Fellowship, not even the war against Sauron. It might take all day to make the automatic tailfin, but he would not stop until it was done.
He was going to fix this and then...
Toothless would be free again.