Hey, guys! Sorry this took so long. School and life got in the way . . . A LOT . . . but it's finally here!

Also, my friend Crimson-Demon is sad because her story, Masked Love, isn't getting any comments or votes besides mine. She's an amazing writer and her stories deserve every bit of love that mine are getting. So if you would, please, go check out her story after you're done with this chapter, we'd both appreciate it. (It's a romance story if that's a selling point with anyone. Just so you know.)

***

By the time the sun had gone down that evening, Hiccup knew his way around the "dragon forge", as he'd come to call it, almost as well as he'd known Gobber's forge. He checked several times to make sure he had everything he needed. As far as tools went, he was prepared in every way possible. The only thing stopping him was the fact that he didn't have the shape or the measurements he needed, and he kind of wanted it to be a surprise for the Alpha. He paced around his room, thinking for a while, until he tripped on the chest by his bed. Curiosity overtaking him, Hiccup opened the chest, sat down, and started going through the contents. What he saw amazed him. Whole scrolls and books filled with hundreds of drawings of dragons, each with their breed name under them, every intricate detail carefully preserved on the parchment. Most breeds he recognized, like Gronckles, Nadders, and Timberjacks, but there were a few he didn't know, like the Death Song, which was beautiful, or the Eruptodon, which was kind of ugly, but impressive all the same.

Where had all of this information come from?

Hiccup checked the chest's contents for a name and finally found one: Alf. No surname. No title. Odd. Most adult Vikings had titles: Phlegma the Fierce, Magnus the Destroyer. Gobber had one, too, but it had been so long since he'd used it, everyone forgot what it was. Perhaps Alf wasn't fond of his nickname and chose not to use it.

After glancing at the drawings some more, Hiccup sifted through the chest again, picking up a small book. At first, he thought little of it, but the first page read, in faded script, Final Accou—the rest was too blurry to make out. Intrigued, Hiccup turned to the next page. Alf's hand was messy, but fortunately still legible.

I've never kept a journal before. I prefer to keep my thoughts and plans safely in my head, where they might not be seen and used against me to string me up as the traitor I might very well become. In my head, everything is safe. Everything turns out okay. But at the moment, I do not see any way I can come out of this on top. I live in the hope that one day, someone, somewhere, will see dragons for what they really are: the epitome, the perfect balance, of intelligence, strength, and beauty.

Hiccup stopped short. So he wasn't the only one who had fallen for them. Good to know he wasn't losing his mind.

I should have kept my mouth shut. The moment I suggested that dragons were not the monsters we had been taught to fear and destroy, they no longer saw me as one of their own. To them, I am a pariah, an outcast. I can hardly leave my home without being hounded by people I thought were my friends, people I have fought beside in battle.

Things are getting worse every day. The chief has offered me a deal: kill a dragon, renounce my claims, and I will be pardoned. Refusal brings death. But no one understands, nor ever will, the turmoil in my mind. I cannot kill a dragon. My research has become like a child to me, my life's work. To kill a dragon would be to throw all of that away, and then all of that knowledge would be for nothing.

Besides, even if, for some reason, I do accept the chief's offer, the rest of the village will never take me back. I have considered leaving several times, and I know that as soon as I reach the harbor, they will kill me no matter what I say. But it might be my only choice. I can't betray the dragons or myself, and I will never be accepted here. I have to go. With any luck, I'll be able to write more in the future.

Despite not being what he was looking for, this journal entry—or so it seemed to be—was interesting, and Hiccup found himself wanting to know more about what happened. Had Alf made it off of the island? Or did practically being on house arrest prove too great an obstacle for him?

He sat there, puzzling at the journal until his feet started to tingle furiously. Changing positions, he sifted through the rest of the chest and found, much to his surprise and relief, in-depth drawings of several dragons, including a Night Fury. Grabbing the paper, he sprang to his feet, unable to bear the fuss his feet were putting up, and hobbled downstairs to the smithy, forgetting to wonder, in his excitement, where Alf had gotten this information. Wincing, shifting his weight back and forth, he examined the page carefully. There was a side profile of the dragon, with chicken-scratch writing all around it. The entire body, including the tail, was twenty-five feet long and around six feet tall, depending on the dragon's age. The wings were as he'd guessed that day with the lion: twenty feet long and five feet at the widest point. Strangely entranced, he shifted focus to the tail, where—hallelujah!—the measurements of the tail and each individual fin was given. Thank you, Alf!

Hiccup got to work right away. Finding the metal for the framework of the tail was easy: Alf had an impressive stash in a side closet that, after a good dusting, would work beautifully. It was the leather that proved to be difficult. After almost a half hour of searching, Hiccup gave up and grabbed one of the blankets off his bed, figuring that if he could get through an Arctic winter in Magnus' basement, he could do this no problem.

Praying with all his might that the Alpha and the dragon Alf had drawn were the same age, Hiccup carefully constructed the frame of the fin, triple- and quadruple-checking to make absolutely certain he had the measurements right. Once that was done, he wrapped the leather fabric around it and sewed it together, testing it several hundred times to get a feel for its durability.

At last, he stood in front of the table and held the finished product in front of him, too elated at the success to feel anything resembling fatigue. The hard part out of the way, Hiccup grabbed a large, empty basket and lugged it to the river.

***

Sindri dozed just outside his den entrance, basking in the moonlight, half-asleep. The sky was clear tonight, and he hadn't smelled any rain, so he'd figured he wouldn't get wet. If there was one thing he could not abide, that was it.

His nose twitched and he reluctantly opened his eyes, unwilling to leave the warm spot on the rock. He raised his head and blinked sleepily out at the meadow. Everything was still and quiet—except for that one spot at the edge where it looked like someone, or something, was trying to sneak by unnoticed. They carried something large and bulky on their back, but they seemed accustomed to the weight.

Hissing quietly, Sindri shook away the thoughts of sleep from his brain and beat his wings, floating silently on the wind toward the interloper. He landed quietly a few feet behind the stranger, and it occurred to him that it might be the human Twig was fond of, but Sindri didn't know him well enough to make out whether it was him or not, and anyway, what would he be doing out here at this hour? Everyone else was asleep; he should be, too.

Sindri growled softly to announce his presence and the stranger spun around immediately, looking frightened. A heartbeat of silence passed between the two as the Skrill waited to see if he was recognized.

"S-Sindri?" a small voice stammered, and Sindri, hearing his name, relaxed. So it was the boy. He gave a comforting hum, hoping to convey his good intentions. The boy—Hiccup, Twig called him—set his load on the ground and came forward a step or two, seeming encouraged, but still a little cautious. Sindri sniffed and grunted, gesturing toward the basket with a questioning look. He couldn't touch Hiccup without electrocuting him, but he kind of really wanted to know what was in there. Hiccup followed his gaze and seemed to understand what the dragon wanted. "Oh, it's empty. I was just—I . . . um . . . "

Sindri cocked his head, waiting patiently.

Hiccup sighed. "Okay, I know you're going to think I'm crazy, but I've been up all night making a new tail fin for the Alpha, and right now I'm heading to the river to get fish for him."

And just how do you expect to get into the cove? Sindri wanted to ask. He appreciated that Hiccup was making the effort, but he wasn't sure if what he was trying to accomplish was even possible after what the Destroyer had done to the Alpha.

Then again . . . maybe the boy was onto something. All he needed was a way in, which he clearly planned to get by fishing enough food out of the river to feed a dragon one by one. Unless, of course, he had help.

The Skrill snorted softly and led the way into the woods. He paused and looked back at Hiccup, who stood there watching, confused. Sindri beckoned with his head that he follow, and continued on to the river. Once there, he stepped onto a line of rocks that had long been worn smooth by the river's constant movement. Glancing at Hiccup, the Skrill sucked in a deep breath and shot a lightning bolt downstream. Fish bobbled to the surface almost immediately.

"Oh, I know what you're doing!" Hiccup exclaimed. "This is what Twig was talking about when she told me how you and she go fishing, isn't it?"

Sindri nodded and watched, pleased, as the boy opened the basket, pulled what looked like a large bundle of sticks out of it, and then scampered into the river to scoop up as many fish with the basket as he could. The two continued this process at slightly different locations until Sindri was satisfied with the haul. They walked together back to the village, and then Sindri flew back to his den, torn between feeling proud at what he was helping to maybe get accomplished, and feeling like a rebel, though he didn't know why he ought to feel that way. Perhaps this was one of those emotions that just sprang up out of nowhere and couldn't be explained.

Curling back up, Sindri dozed off, hoping that, whatever Hiccup was planning, it would turn out all right.

***

As the sun rose over the isolated island, Hiccup tried to convince himself that the prosthetic marvel he'd made would work. At least, he hoped so. But with no way to store an entire basket full of fish properly, he didn't have much of a choice. So, heaving the basket onto his shoulder and tucking the prosthetic tail fin under the other arm, he set off for the Alpha's cove.

Despite all of his planning, Hiccup wasn't quite sure what to expect. Would he be allowed in again? Yeah, he had technically broken a rule the last time he was here, but the Alpha seemed to have been happy, so . . . he was forgiven. Right?

Setting down his load just outside the entrance, Hiccup thought about how best to approach a dragon's lair without upsetting it. He cursed himself for not thinking to ask Sindri about that last night. Staring blankly out at the cove which gave no indication of harboring any sort of draconic life whatsoever, he raised his hand and then dropped it a few times, unsure of how to announce himself. Well, it's stupid, but . . . He knocked on the rock wall a few times, which didn't please his knuckles one bit, but he thought he heard a dragon's warble, distantly. Holding his breath, Hiccup knocked again and nearly jumped out of his skin when the Night Fury suddenly appeared out of the blue, apparently hanging upside down from somewhere. His gaze was sharper than last time, and he seemed on edge about something. Hiccup remembered Twig talking about the flying sickness. His grip on the prosthetic tail fin tightened.

"Um . . . room service?" Hiccup asked. The dragon cocked his head, confused. Ack, Hiccup, you idiot. Of course he'd never heard of that before. Room service was a human thing.

Hiccup tried again. "I brought you breakfast." The Alpha understood this. Normally, he was more of the independent type, but he'd never refused a free meal. He licked his lips and jumped down from his perch, and Hiccup followed him into the cove. The dragon walked over to the pond, yawning. He sat down and looked at the basket, then at Hiccup expectantly. In answer, Hiccup flipped the lid up and pushed the basket over, letting the contents spill out. The Alpha circled the basket curiously, nosing the fish, while Hiccup laid out the menu, as it were. "I got you some salmon, uh, and some Icelandic cod. Oh! And a whole smoked eel." That last part had been a bit of a wild card that Sindri hadn't noticed; Hiccup was hoping that the Alpha would appreciate the variety.

But the second the word "eel" left Hiccup's lips, the Alpha jerked his head back and growled, backing away from the basket slowly. Hiccup knelt down and dug through the slimy mess for the offending creature. After a minute, he found the bright yellow and black tail tip of the eel and lifted it up in plain view for the Night Fury to see.

The Alpha's pupils shrank to the width of a pencil stroke and he cried out in alarm. Just as he was turning to flee, Hiccup reached out and tried to console him. "No, no, no, no, please! It's okay!" He threw the dead eel into the pond and was relieved when the dragon didn't run regardless. A short hiss and a shiver conveyed the dragon's opinion on the matter.

"Yeah, I don't really like eel much, either," Hiccup said, thinking back to when he was little and Magnus tried to get him to eat it. Once. That was a bad night.

Eying the basket with a bit more suspicion, the Alpha dug into the fish while Hiccup slowly and carefully crept around toward the tail. Kneeling down, he laid the prosthetic down beside the tail, and was relieved beyond words when the two fins appeared to match. He pushed the prosthetic closer, but with a quiet sniff, the tail moved away. Hiccup glanced up nervously at the Alpha, only to find him still munching happily away at his feast. Encouraged, Hiccup tried again, but the tail kept moving, dang it! He ended up having to just sit on the tail behind the fins in order to keep it from moving too much. He finished strapping the prosthetic on and opened it so that it matched the other side.

"Alright," he murmured to himself, failing to notice the huge, shadowy wings spreading behind him, "that's not too bad, it works—"

Without warning, his body suddenly shot backwards into the air. Hiccup yelped in fright, thinking that the Alpha had decided he'd taken things too far and was flinging him across the cove. But just as he was starting to arc back down toward the ground, he heard thunderous wingbeats behind him. The Alpha was flying!

As soon as he realized this, however, the dragon himself began to take a nosedive. With both of them now screaming in panic, Hiccup reached forward and pulled on the closed prosthetic, snapping it open and sending the Night Fury back into the skies, giving Hiccup such bad whiplash that he knew his neck would hurt for days. But at the moment, he didn't care. Great Odin's ghost! It's working! Thrilled to his toenails, Hiccup shifted the prosthetic a bit, making the dragon bank into a turn back toward the cove. The Night Fury roared with victory as they glided mere feet above the pond.

"Yes! Yes, it worked!" Hiccup exclaimed. Then something made him look behind him just as the Alpha was doing the same. The two stared at each other for a moment, surprised. Suddenly, water erupted all around the dragon's right wing, causing more drag than he was accustomed to, and with a yelp, crashed into the water. Hiccup lost his grip on the tail, but stayed underwater just long enough to make sure that the prosthetic was well-secured. Satisfied, Hiccup swam to the surface and crawled to shore. The Alpha was already out, dripping wet and shaking himself off. When he saw that Hiccup was out of the water, he marched straight over to him. Hiccup stepped back a little, not sure if the dragon was angry or not. The Alpha got close. Really close. Wrapping his now balanced tail behind the boy's legs, the right fin standing stiff and erect to keep him from going anywhere. It was impossible for them not to be touching.

What in blazes was that?! The Alpha's message came strong and clear. What did you do?

Hiccup was a bit intimidated by the dragon's intensity, so the words flitted through his mind. I made you a prosthetic tail fin.

Prosthetic?

Human-made.

The Alpha looked at his tail, inspecting Hiccup's creation, his gaze still as sharp as a blade. Why?

I don't want you to die. Geez, that sounded weird, even though it was the truth. And I knew that making you able to fly again would fix it.

The dragon's eyes widened. How do you know about the flying sickness? he demanded. Such knowledge is passed only to dragons. There's no way you should have heard about it, even in passing.

Twig told me, Hiccup confessed. She's worried about you. They all are.

He hesitated, then added when the Night Fury didn't respond, And I also wanted to thank you for saving my life that day. With the lion.

The Alpha's gaze softened. I never expected you to repay me for that. You didn't have to do this.

"I know," Hiccup whispered, his voice coming back at last. "But I wanted to."

The Night Fury stared into his soul for a few moments, then withdrew his tail. He gazed at Hiccup with a new kind of acceptance. By giving back the strength he'd been lacking, Hiccup had proved, without a doubt, his loyalty to the Alpha. It doesn't work without someone operating it. Think you can fix that?

Hiccup smiled, glad for another project. "Yes, sir." He walked away, wanting to get started right away. But the Alpha called out to him, making him turn around with a question in his eyes. The Night Fury walked over to him and touched his nose to Hiccup's hand.

You may call me Toothless.

***

QOTC:
Name your top five favorite foods/drinks. Mine are hot chocolate, gnocci (pronounced "nochi")(Italian chicken and dumplings meets chicken soup 🤤), biscuits and sausage gravy, any kind of seafood, and Irish stew! Yum!