“Toothless? Toothless!” The rider’s voice echoed with frustration. “Where are you?” He paced, hands raking through his hair. “I swear, when I find that dragon…” He sighed, muttering to himself, “He always pulls this.”
He descended the stairs, heading toward the kitchen. Perhaps Toothless had been lured by the scent of fish.
“Sigh… not here either.” He scanned the room, then glanced upwards. “Every time, a new hiding spot! Once in the living room, then the kitchen, then playing with the Terrible Terror. What now? Up in the ceiling?” The boy’s voice rose in exasperation. As he spoke, a prickling sensation crawled across his skin—a feeling of being watched. He looked up, heart hammering against his ribs.
There, clinging to the rafters, was Toothless.
“Toothless… what are you doing up there?” Hiccup’s tone was a mixture of exasperation and affection. “How many times do I have to tell you not to go on these little adventures without me?”
The Night Fury responded with a low purr, then gracefully dropped to the floor. He nudged his head against Hiccup’s hand, a silent apology.
“Oh, you mischievous thing!” Hiccup chuckled, unable to resist squishing the dragon’s face. “I can’t stay mad at this little bundle of joy! You’re just too cute!”
Toothless, however, clearly disliked the cheek-squishing. He retaliated with a playful lick to Hiccup’s face.
“St-stop it!” Hiccup sputtered, wiping away the saliva. “That’s disgusting!” He pushed Toothless away, laughing despite himself. As Hiccup went to wash his face, Toothless darted toward the kitchen, nose twitching in anticipation of a snack.
Hiccup called it the Sanctuary—a haven built with his own hands, and with the assistance of several willing dragons. It stood on a small island he’d discovered five years ago, a place hidden from the world. The structure itself was immense, a testament to his ingenuity and determination.
The main house contained Hiccup’s bedroom—large enough to accommodate his bed, Toothless’s rockbed, and his drafting table—and a kitchen boasting a stove capable of cooking for a whole fleet of dragons.
Just outside the kitchen, an expansive garden flourished, along with small enclosures housing various animals. Since supplies from Berk were infrequent, Hiccup had to provide for himself.
A living room and a small balcony completed the house, offering a vantage point to survey the vast expanse of ocean.
But the house was only the beginning. A forge, a training arena, and a dragon hangar stood nearby, connected to the main building by wooden paths. The forge housed his latest inventions—the Inferno sword and the flight suit that allowed him to soar alongside Toothless. The training arena was where he honed his skills with Toothless and other dragons. The hangar housed the thirty or so dragons he’d rescued, all but Toothless, who slept by his side.
Each dragon was unique, each a testament to the beauty and diversity of their kind.
Every morning, Hiccup and Toothless would find each other, embark on a flight, and then share breakfast before beginning the day. It was a ritual, a comforting routine. But sometimes, Hiccup would steal a few moments alone on the balcony, lost in thought. Today was one of those days.
After cleaning his face, he left Toothless to his own devices and stepped onto the balcony, gazing out at the sea. He often wondered if there were undiscovered dragons, if other Night Furies roamed the skies.
But today, his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He didn’t ask questions about uncharted territories or distant kin. Instead, a quiet whisper escaped his lips:
“I wonder what happened to Berk after all these years…”