Meet the Big Five

Hiccup

I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but from the look on his face, he was definitely laughing.

"Yeah. Very funny, Toothless," I scolded, as I picked myself off the ground and brushed the dirt off my clothes. Apparently, Toothless thought it was hilarious to fly close to the ground, and roll over so that I fall off. The last thing I need right now is a dragon mocking me too.

It's been two months since I met Toothless. I've never actually had a pet (or a best friend), but the dragon made up for both. I loved being around him. He'd grown a lot less wild since our first encounter. He was used to the raw fish I fed him, and he seemed to like me a lot more than I thought he would.

Toothless leaned forward and licked me. It was sweet and gross at the same time, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I patted him on the head, even though I already knew he didn't like it.

"Um. Anyway. Bye, Toothless," I said, awkwardly, as I turned around and walked away. I hated leaving him alone in the cove everyday, but it was risky staying here long. Every time I left the armory, Gobber gave me a suspicious look, like he thought I was secretly helping the dragons (which I kinda was). 

I thought about Toothless as I walked home. Whenever I was with him, I felt extremely guilty and thought of my father, Stoick the Vast, chief of the tribe. If he found out about the dragon...I shuddered at the thought. Not only was Toothless a dragon, he was also a Night Fury, which was the most rare and aggresive of all dragons. The thoughts of killing him still tormented me. I knew that it was my duty as a Viking to do so, but I also knew in my heart that I would never, ever do it.

If I wanted to prove myself to my father, as well as the rest of the tribe, killing Toothless would be the thing to do. But a lot had changed since the days when I used to try to get into action with my Mangler, everytime there was a dragon raid in the village. I didn't want to fight dragons anymore. I genuinely enjoyed being with Toothless, and dreaded the day things would change.

When I got home, there was a nasty surprise waiting for me.

Dad was poking the fire with his weapon. I quickly tried to get past him and go upstairs to my room, but he heard me.

"Hiccup." he said, his back turned towards me.

"Dad!" I said, the guilt taking over my stomach again. Did he find out about Toothless somehow?

I had to tell him that I couldn't kill dragons. I had to explain to him that they weren't what he thought they were, and maybe Toothless would have a chance of surviving after all.

"Uh, I, uh, have to talk to you, Dad," I said, anxiously, as I walked towards him.

He turned to face me. "I need to speak with you too, son." He took a deep breath, and we both spoke at the same time.

"I've decided I don't wanna fight dragons."

"I've decided to let you fight dragons."

"What?" we both cried in unison.

"Uh, you go first." said Dad.

"No, uh, you go first." I said, and sat down to listen to what he had to say.

"Okay," he replied, as he held his hands together. "You get your wish. Dragon training. You leave for Durmstrang next month."

"Oh, man, I should've gone first. 'Cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon fighting Vikings, but, do we have enough bread-making Vikings, or, small home repair Vikings-" I said nervously.

Dad then handed me the heaviest axe I've ever held, cutting me off. "You'll need this."

"I, uh," I stammered, as I staggered backward under the weight of the axe. "I don't wanna fight dragons."

He had a good laugh at this one. "Come on! Yes, you do!"

"Rephrase: Dad, I can't kill dragons!" I said, firmly.

"But you will kill dragons!" he replied with enthusiasm.

"No, I'm really very extra sure that I won't." I replied, as I remembered the feeling I had when I tried to kill Toothless. Dad, however, continued to ignore whatever I said. As usual.

"Your time will come-"

"Can you not hear me?" I cried helplessly.

"Be serious, son," said Dad sternly, as he handed me the axe again. "When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you. Which means, you walk like us. You talk like us. You think like us." He proceeded to straighten my slumped figure. "No more of...this." He gestured to my body.

I rolled my eyes. "You just gestured to all of me."

"Deal?" asked Dad, his eyebrows raised.

"This conversation is feeling very one-sided-" I started to argue.

"DEAL?" said Dad loudly, looking at me squarely in the face.

I sighed. It was foolish of me to think that Dad would listen to me this time. "Deal."

He picked up his sack. "Good. Train hard." He put on his helmet and walked away. "I'll be back. Probably."

"And I'll be gone,"I said, unenthusiastically. "Maybe."

I heard the door slam behind me. As soon as his footsteps faded away, I rushed back to the cove, to Toothless.

"I can't keep you here anymore," I said, as I hurriedly proceeded to loosen the rope that anchored him to the ground. "My father's sending me to school next month, to learn to kill dragons. Even though I told him I don't want to. Not like he listens to me anyway. Which means, there'll be no one to take care of you when I'm gone. Your tail's okay now." I patted the prosthetic tail I'd made him, so that he understood. "You have to fly back now, to wherever you came from. Go." I said, and dropped the rope.

I guess the dragon didn't really understand what I said, 'cause he just stood there, staring at me with his big green eyes. "Go." I said again, as a lump formed in my throat.

Toothless continued to stand there haughtily, like he didn't care for anything I had to say. So I went on spilling my guts to him. "My father wants me to go to Durmstrang Institute, which has a really good dragon training program. Many of the Vikings in the tribe, including Dad, went there. But I really don't wanna go. The guys are mean! And Dad, he didn't want to send me to school when the letters came on my 11th birthday, because he thought I was too weak for school. Why does he think I've improved now?"

Toothless nodded his head, like a wise old man. I patted him, then went on, "You know, four years ago, I had received two acceptance letters. One from Durmstrang and one from Hogwarts. Dad said Hogwarts was for girls. The students over there didn't learn how to defeat and kill dragons, they just trained them. Dad said that dragons are meant to be killed, not tamed. Strangely enough, Hogwarts doesn't seem like a bad idea now."

"Aren't you going to fly away?" I asked, incredulous that he was still here, even though I'd set him free. "If any of the Vikings find you here, they're going to kill you. You'll be the first Night Fury to have ever been seen, and my Dad's going to take great pride in killing you himself..."

He still made no attempt to move. I gave up. "Fine, have it your way. Stay here if you want to. I'm not gonna let Dad have his way, though. If he wants me to learn dragon training, then I'll learn dragon training. But I'll learn it the peaceful way, in Hogwarts. I bet there are Viking kids there, too. I'm gonna go to that school even if Dad kills me for it!"

I hugged him. "Thanks for everything, Toothless," I said, and my eyes grew watery. "You'll always be my best friend. Goodbye." I blinked the tears away, and went on to walk back home. As the path curved, I took one last look at him: he was still watching me, the rope at his feet. I suppressed the urge to run back to him and continued walking.

Behind me I heard the unmistakable sound of wings flapping, and I knew he'd flown away at last.

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