Stoick had spent fifteen years trying to hammer the world into shape. Maybe it was time to let his son build a new one. The war ended not with a bang, but with a boy on a black dragon landing in the middle of a battlefield. Hiccup stood between the Viking line and the Green Death—a monstrous queen the size of a mountain. Toothless roared, not in threat, but in warning. She’s scared , Hiccup realized. They’re all scared.
“I know,” Hiccup said, too quiet for anyone but the queen to hear. “I know you’ve lost hatchlings. I know you’ve been hunted. But this doesn’t end in fire. It ends when someone puts the fire out.”
He reached up. Touched her snout.