How To Train Your Dragon

12: The Magic of Dragons

No POV

"Hiccup! Whisper!" Stoik shouts as he stumbles across the ash covered stone beach through the clearing smoke, searching for his children. "Hiccup!" He turns the other direction. "Whisper!" He runs forward. "HICCUP!" He turns. "WHISPER!"

He turns again and sees a black mound stretched out on it's side. He runs forward and looks at it. It's the Nightfury. He looks at the scraped up and burnt saddle then looks down at the series of rods and wires along the black dragon's tail, broken and sticking up at odd angles. The fake tail that makes up for the other side of the dragon's fanned tail tip has the leather burned away with the rods bent and twisted.

Stoik fall to his knees and hangs his head. The villagers gather a respectful distance away, silent. Astrid pushes through them to the front with Gobber behind her and stops as she sees the lone dragon and grieving father. She looks at them with disbelief and despair. The dragons from the arena gather behind the group, their heads hung is sadness.

The Nightfury makes a half purring half moaning sound and lifts his head, opening his golden-green eyes, peering at Stoik. Silent tears run from the grieving father's eyes and catch in his thick beard. "Oh son, Whisp, I'm so sorry." His voice is hushed with heavy emotions.

Slowly Toothless opens his wings revealing a soot streaked boy. "Hiccup." Stoik gasps and pulls his oldest child into his arms.

Hiccup is limp as a leaf, soot steamed on his face and his hair and clothes slightly singed. Stoik turns Hiccup's head from side to side then takes off his helmet, throwing it to the side. He presses his ear to his son's chest.

"He's alive!" Stoik cries. "You brought him back alive!" Stoik says to Toothless, his voice cracked with emotion. The villagers behind him cheer, the dragons roaring with happiness. Stoik rests his hand on the Nightfury's cheek. "Thank you for bringing my son back to me." Toothless lowers his head a bit and slowly blinks his eyes as if saying, 'Of course I did.'

"Well most of him anyways." Gobber says as he walks up and stops beside Stoik.

Stoik looks up suddenly. His daughter wasn't here. He stands up holding the passed out Hiccup in his arms. "Whisper!" He shouts. "WHISPER!" Stoik turns in a circle. "IVORY!" Out of desperation he calls Whisper by her given birth name, before it was changed when they discovered she couldn't speak.

Scattered around Stoik are arrowheads and few feet from his left is a burnt crisp of a bow and beyond that a flattened quiver. "No...." He breaths holding Hiccup closer to himself. He lost one, he isn't going to loose the other. His daughter was gone...

Gobber places his hand on Stoik's shoulder and says to the grieving father. "We should give her a warrior's burial."

"But there's no body." Stoik rasps, his voice thick with grief.

"There'swhat is left of her archery equipment." Gobber replies softly.

"Than we shall." Stoik's voice cracks as he says, "Whisper deserves to be remembered as a warrior."