Toothless pulled back just enough to look Hiccup in the eye. Then, with a slow, deliberate grace, he lowered his body to the stone. His wings spread wide. An invitation.
So Hiccup did. He climbed onto the familiar curve of Toothless’s neck, wrapping his arms around the base of those glorious horns. And when they launched off the cliff, the world fell away—war, fatherhood, time, loss. There was only the wind, the stars, and the steady, thunderous beat of a heart that had never stopped searching for its other half.
Ten years. Ten years since he’d last felt the warmth of a Night Fury’s scales. Ten years since he’d traced the outline of that singular, beautiful tail fin with his own hand. He’d told himself he was at peace. He had a family. A village. A legacy. But there was a Hiccup-shaped hole only one creature could fill.
But Toothless wasn’t moving. He pressed his broad, warm head into Hiccup’s chest, letting out a sound Hiccup hadn’t heard since they were boys: a soft, keening whine of loss .