And here it is! part 2! Hope you enjoy!

Although, if you read the fic on Ao3, you probably would already know what was about to come. :'D

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Red Snow: Chapter 2 - A Loss Too Great

"HICCUP!" Stoick the Vast had bellowed his son's name many times in his life. Sometimes in anger and other times in joy, but none could measure to the sheer volume he conjured up that day.

He had finally caught up to his runaway offspring, only to bear witness to the final strike that may have taken his life.

Staggering backwards at first as fear wrapped its paralyzing embrace around his beating heart and caused his large body to feel even heavier than ever before, the Chief pushed onwards. He had never run as fast as he had done then to reach Hiccup in time.

Valka followed, but briefly hesitated behind him too. Her eyes wide and her mouth agape in disbelieve at what she had just seen happen right in front of her.

"Hiccup." She spoke. A worry so suffocating she might aswell die on the spot welled up inside, but she continued running. She had to know. She had to be there. Her son needed her and she would no longer stand by idly.

Gobber, meanwhile, had come to a full stop.

It was difficult to keep up with two perfectly able people with a simple wooden peg leg, but he had stubbornly given chase aswell. If just to make sure his apprentice would be okay.

Hiccup had survived much in his life. Even the boy's own birth hadn't gone without complications. He was a fighter when needed and a lucky one at that. The blacksmith never expected this to happen to him and then not get back up.

The young man just lied there in the cold snow, unmoving. Gobber felt every little bit of warmth from within himself be drained. He remained motionless.

"Oh no." His voice broke and his devastation painted his face as he shook his head.

It couldn't be true. This couldn't have possibly happened. This had to be a dream, a nightmare. How could the Gods be cruel enough to let this battle take that boy away from them?

Gobber had to tell himself to move. Hiccup, his apprentice, his son, needed him.

"Hiccup!" Stoick was the first to reach the quiet figure lying on the frigid ground.

Hiccup hadn't moved the entire time it took his father to reach him and he had crossed quite a distance. He stayed where he lied, limp on his side. The ground below him tainted with the deep red colour of blood.

Stoick let his being fall to his knees. He didn't even notice the pain as all attention was focussed on the one thing that mattered right now. His son, his poor boy.

"Hiccup." It was all he could say, his child's name. Every other word was lost to him. Nothing else would roll of his tongue. It was as if he had forgotten how to properly speak altogether.

He found himself pausing as he stared, his hands hovering over the person in front of him, but not daring to touch. He couldn't find the strength to do this to him in this state. Not with hands so large and rough. He worried he might only make it worse.

Hiccup's eyes were closed, his expression unnervingly peaceful and his skin was a ghostly pale from the blood he had lost. His freckles barely stood out anymore.

The skin that still remained intact, that is.

Once able to push past his distress, as gently as he could, Stoick softly placed his hands on his son and moved him onto his back.

Eyes widened and tears welled up, a sensation he had only made himself familiar with on a few other dire occasions in his life. One of them the supposed death of his wife, the woman sprinting towards them now.

This was different from back when the Red Death had just been defeated. Toothless had kept him mostly safe from the blazing inferno that had once been the mountainous dragon. It was so much easier to lay his hands on him then, when he wasn't so obviously torn and broken. Today, he feared a simple touch would hurt him even more.

As Stoick gazed down on Hiccup, stunned, overwhelmed, his breath momentarily coming to a halt, he noticed a terrible burn damaging part of his face. Raw, wet and blackened. That were his right cheek, his chin, his jaw, his temple, his ear. Some of his wild hair had been singed away and Stoick noticed his neck was burned aswell. All around. His freckles there were gone for good.

The chest piece he wore had been lost with the explosion aswell as the pauldrons on his right side and Stoick wasn't about to go search for their remains. The entire right side of Hiccup's torso had been badly burned aswell as some of his thigh. It was obvious which part of him had ended up takeing the brunt of the plasma blast.

But it couldn't compare to other wounds. It couldn't possibly compare to his arm.

Or lack thereof.

A strangled sob left the mountainous man at the wretched sight. Though not usually one to cry, seeing this broke him.

Once again something had been cruelly taken from his son. When all the boy really wanted was peace, that which he loved to be safe and happy, he had to lose something again. He couldn't bear to see Berk caught in another war. That was the only reason why they were here now. Why Hiccup lied here before him.

Stoick wondered if someone ruthless played with his son as if his life were some kind of game.

And yet...

His fault. This was his fault. If he had just reached him in time. If he could have just stopped Hiccup from approaching Drago, stopped him from still wanting to try reasoning with the madman now that they had lost the Bewilderbeast of the Sanctuary... Stoick could only blame himself.

Vikings had lost limbs during the Dragon Scourge. Some had met the horrible fate of burning to death. Others were scarred for life and could no longer even look at the reassuring light of a campfire.

For years Stoick had prevented this fate from befalling his son. Now that the war with the dragons was finally over, that fate had mockingly taken his son anyway.

For a second time.

"Hiccup!" Stoick had continued to stare at Hiccup, at a complete loss on what to do despite years of experience, and barely even registered Valka's arrival as she sank down to the blood soaked snow aswell. Her knees becoming stained.

She, too, hesitated for a moment and felt her every inch tremble at the state her estranged son had ended up in before daring to lay a hand on the young man. She did what Stoick did not have the power or mind to do. She placed her ear on Hiccup's injured chest to listen for a heartbeat.

No matter how small. No matter how fragile. She hoped to hear a single beat.

Valka released a shaky gasp and tears sprung free as she looked up to her husband. Stoick feared the worst.

"He's alive." They were tears of relief.

"Alive?" It was the most softest, smallest voice Valka had ever heard the intimidating Chief of Berk speak in.

"He's alive!" She repeated and a sob broke through. The widest and most saddest smile present on her face. There was still a pulse to be found in their son. Though soft and shallow, he was still breathing.

Which also meant he might wake up to a world of pain soon.

"What're you two doing then?! Bind that arm!" Came Gobber's shaky voice, moving his hand to dry his eyes. Neither man or woman had noticed his presence, but both shot into action the moment he spoke.

They had to come down from the high their son's miraculous survival had given them. He wasn't in the clear yet.

Stoick ripped the green leather straps holding the fur of his armbrace in place and used it as a tourniquet while Valka held the injured limb tenderly in place. Wrapping it as tightly as he could around the remains of that right arm, Stoick managed to stop the bleeding for now. Hopefully on time. They would need to cauterize it soon.

Gobber released a breath and wiped at his face again. He found a nearby chunk of ice to sit his trembling self on.

That last corridor Hiccup had attempted to clear had been blown to smithereens. It was a miracle he was still breathing. It was extraordinairy how there was still so much of the boy left.

All three of them were rattled to their cores and there were tears in their eyes that they could not stop. Relief eased their burdens. They wanted to revel in the knowledge that their Hiccup lived. Anticipation for what's next could wait another second.

But none of their fear, or their relief, could compare to the sheer terror Toothless felt when Drago's Bewilderbeast finally let go of his mind and forced him to come face to face with what he had done.

Toothless had been confused at first, dizzy. It felt like waking up from a really long nightmare.

Simply sitting down and shutting his eyes, he collected himself and let his senses come back to him. As if all of them had been muffled and distorted for some strange reason. He did not even seem to recall that a battle was supposed to be taking place.

Toothless found himself wondering what day it was. Where he was. Where Hiccup might be. Those questions floated around in his mind and he knew no answers.

He didn't feel threatened or like he had just been fighting. Just strangely tired and calm. Like nothing was quite wrong.

Then he blinked and noticed poeple up ahead, people he knew.

Three of them surrounding a fourth one.

That lean figure he could recognize from anywhere. And to see it covered in blood, Toothless' heart stopped as it all came back to him.

Mapping the world with Hiccup, Astrid's arrival, the trappers, Hiccup's mother, Drago Bludvist, the battle, the Good Bewilderbeast's death, ...

Losing himself to Drago's will...

Red.

Vision.

Purple.

Fire.

Pleading.

Hiccup.

Hunting.

Hiccup.

Blood.

Hiccup!

The returning images brought pain to his mind, but Toothless pushed it all away in favour of concentrating on just the one person that mattered to him.

Spurred into action by his concern for his Rider, Toothless came racing as fast as he could. It took him a mere second or two. Pushing past Gobber and being allowed a look by Valka, he now remembered her name being, the always protective and loving dragon could finally assess Hiccup's state.

Everything stopped then. His heart, his breathing, his mind.

Toothless stared at the multitude of severe injuries, the torn and blackened armour, at the absence of most of one right arm, at the eerie peacefulness of his Rider.

Was he... Dead?

He stared, but it didn't quite register. His brain malfunctioned. He didn't seem to understand that this was Hiccup, although the proof was undeniable.

Valka and Gobber watched with pain in their hearts as Toothless flew into a denial and tried to wake his Viking up. Purring, crooning, he pushed his snout against Hiccup's unscathed cheek so he could get Hiccup to open the eyes he loved so much and give him that lopsided smile so typically him.

Who could do this to him? To Hiccup of all people?

Toothless knew the answer, but he didn't want it to be true.

But Denial was not wanted here.

Just short of hitting the dragon on the snout did a heavy war hammer drop between him and Hiccup. Toothless moved his gaze upwards and faced the most hateful glare he had ever witnessed in Stoick the Vast's darkened eyes.

Suddenly five years of peace meant nothing anymore and he felt like a 'devil' all over again.

But this was it.

Hiccup's father would only ever glare this way at people who hurt him.

Alvin, Ryker, Viggo, Krogan, Johan...

And now him.

Denying it was no longer possible. The truth had been made cruelly bare to him.

No one here had hurt Hiccup, except for his most loyal and trusting friend.

"Leave, Devil." Stoick whispered with a fire so toxic and out of control that Toothless shrunk in on himself.

He glanced at Hiccup.

"Leave!" The roar released by the enraged man got him to move. Valka watched him go in sympathy, with a want to comfort both man and dragon. Gobber had his eyes downcast.

Toothless was now alone.

And the full gravity of his actions came crashing down on him.

Stoick's thundering roar is what caught Astrid's attention.

She and the other Dragon Riders had been fighting a losing battle ever since the death of the Bewilderbeast of the Sanctuary.

There were hundreds upon hundreds of men hoping to capture the wild dragons of this Northern nest and for every trap destroyed there were still five more to take their place. For every trapper, there were at least a dozen more. Drago had come with an entire fleet, filled to the brim with loyal pawns, weapons and armoured dragons at his disposal.

But the warriors of Berk were just that. Warriors. No matter how hopeless the fight, they wouldn't back down until their leader told them too and even then it was usually to regroup and think of a better strategy. They were stubborn that way.

Yet at the same time their strength was waning and they had not a clue where Hiccup and Toothless were. Despite that, they had been hoping the former could come up with a last minute plan just in time. Wherever he was and whatever he was doing out there, they knew they could always count on him and his brilliance.

Not one of the nine Riders had any idea he faced Drago Bludvist alone, hoping to still end the war without any more bloodshed now that they had lost the great alpha of this nest. There was very little else they could lose now, so he believed. The risk was worth it.

The Dragon Riders never saw a mind controlled Toothless made to hunt Hiccup down and failed to notice that one last shot that had felled him away from the battlefield. So busy on keeping each other and the dragons safe, the brutal attack on their own lead Rider remained unknown to them all.

Until the moment Stoick the Vast commanded that Toothless leave his son be and Astrid heard him through the rush of the wind and the sounds of war in her ears.

Leaving Eret to work together with Stormfly, she looked over to where her chief's booming voice came from and she saw just a little dot of what she guessed were people. Far, far away.

Confused and bewildered to see those figures there, she already knew something just had to be wrong and she called to the others.

"Guys!" Grabbing their attention as they remained closeby to watch each other's backs, she directed them all over to where their elders were standing. Hotburple, Rumblehorn and Stormcutter not in sight.

There was no Night Fury to be seen either. Anywhere. Though that didn't necessarily mean a bad thing. Hiccup and Toothless could still be fighting. Somewhere.

The Dragon Riders expected something as they veered away from the battlefield to land near the small group of familiars.

A new plan, a turn of events, something, but never this.

A blacksmith struggling to keep himself composed as he sat on a chunk of ice. He had his one hand covered his face, breathing deeply. A recently reunited couple huddled together, kneeling on snow soaked in blood that wasn't theirs. And then their best friend and leader, bloodied and gravely injured, clutched to his father's chest.

"Oh no..." None of the Riders or the Dragons really registered Eret's words of doom while Astrid slid off her Nadder. Numb, her gaze stuck on a much too quiet Hiccup, she came over. The closer she got, the worse it was.

All of her strength left her the second she reached her betrothed and fell down next to him. The freezing chill of the arctic could never compare to the cold within. Her hands moved, ghosting over his cheeks as she wanted to cup them and feel his warmth, but she didn't dare.

What happened to him? There were so many burns. Way too many. Blood covered him, soaked Stoick's tunic and the ground below them. Chunks of Hiccup's armour and flightsuit were missing. There were messy cuts all over his body and she couldn't imagine the hidden bruises. His skin was simply too pale.

"Hiccup?" Her voice was soft, high, a mere whisper as she looked up to her Chief and his lost wife.

She realized they were sorrowful, but not mourning.

"He's alive. Just barely, but holding on." The woman who Hiccup had earlier introduced as his mother spoke up, spend tears drying on her cheeks. Momentarily a hand of hers hovered over Astrid's shoulder, but she withdrew it.

"Alive? Are you sure?" Fishlegs' voice was a whimper, his person a quaking mess. Of all the Riders who had approached, he was the farthest away. Afraid of the possible truth.

The woman nodded with but the smallest hint of a forced smile and Gobber looked over, but there was still no response from Stoick, who held his son to his chest as if letting go would cause him to turn to dust before their very eyes.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut had a hold of each other, a show of comfort reserved only for moments as severe as these. Snotlout's eyes were wide in disbelieve, Astrid could see him trying to understand what he saw and failing at doing so. They were wet too, though he didn't seem to notice. All of them shaken, they had a hard time figuring out why or even how this happened.

Hiccup 'impervious to any and all injuries except for the loss of one leg' Haddock. How could he be the one cradled in his father's arms, just an inch away from death? This couldn't be real.

Eret dismounting Stormfly is what drew Astrid's attention to the Dragons and she noticed that they, too, stood there as if petrified.

Hiccup was their original trainer, the first Viking to use affectionate scratches and harmless dragon nip to incapacitate them as opposed to brutal violence. If not for the kindness they loved receiving from him, the years spend by his and Toothless' sides had helped them love him as much as he did them.

None was brave enough to move closer. It almost seemed like they would rather shy away from the sight. All except Hookfang, who nudged Snotlout, but got no response.

However, Stormfly was missing.

Fingers entangled within Hiccup's matted hair, Astrid turned away further to scan the beach for her Nadder, only to find both her and the Night Fury.

Stormfly circled Toothless worriedly, chirping around the black figure who had hid himself away, his back facing them.

Why was he there instead of here with Hiccup? Other times he was hurt, the dragon barely even let him go to the bathroom on his own.

"Toothless-"

"Don't."

The young woman wanted to jump up and run over, see if Toothless was okay, but her Chief stopped her.

Finally looking up, there was a look of pure rage in his eyes that he didn't care to cover up.

"He's the reason my son is like this." The way he spoke, so cold and vengeful, send shivers down their spines.

The Riders all looked to each other and the Dragons grew restless. They weren't sure what to think. Toothless would be the last person to ever harm the Viking he adored, much like said Viking would never harm him.

This was it. Astrid wanted some clear answers.

"What do you mean? How could Toothless ever hurt-"

But her questions would have to wait as Stoick lowered his son from the protective confines of his embrace, but didn't let go. His action didn't only reveal the true extent of Hiccup's injuries, but also the horrific state of his arm.

They all gasped. Eret muttered something under his breath, the woman looked away as did Gobber and Astrid drew back.

His arm. Where was Hiccup's right arm?!

It looked like it was blown right off.

But how could Toothless possibly have done this? Was it an accident?

"But how... How- how could... Toothless." Astrid was torn between staring at the torn stump and looking away. She could hardly finish her question.

"Because that Night Fury couldn't fight off Drago's control. Because he hunted down his Rider relentlessly and-"

"Stoick, please." The fair woman tried to intervene in the Chief's accusations, but it was fruitless.

"You've seen it too, Valka, you were there! Six times that devil-"

"It's not Toothless' fault! You know that!" Her eyes were brimming with fresh tears. The state her son was in broke her heart, but so did her broken husband's words.

"Val!"

"A good dragon under the control of bad people will do bad things! It's not his fault!" Valka defended Toothless and she would do so until the very end. She did it with every little remaining energy in her being.

The Night Fury was a victim here too. His mind violated, his body taken, used as a means to kill his soulmate... They could not place the blame on him.

Astrid realized then she was crying aswell.

She looked behind her again, past the Riders who had gravitated closer to each other as they attempted to process the fact that their friend had lost another limb, past the Dragons who dealt with this in their own way, and saw Toothless and Stormfly. But unlike her future father-in-law, couldn't bring herself to hate him like he did.

There was only one monster deserving of her hate here.

And he was crying out his battlecry and swinging his hook.

The defeated warriors watched as the enemy Bewilderbeast let out a mighty roar and suddenly their dragons left them.

"Hookfang!"

"Meatlug, wait, where are you going?!"

"Barf-"

"Belch?! What're you guys doing?!"

"Stormfly!"

Their pupils mindless narrowed slits now, they were no longer in control of themselves as they took off and joined Drago's growing army of living machines of war.

They were helpless. All of them.

"Gather the dragons, gather the men. Our next target is Berk." Bludvist's cruel voice rang loud and clear across the entire frozen beach as he commanded the Trappers to retreat with their spoils.

There was amusement in his tone, glee, and he gazed down upon them from the back of a Stormcutter.

"Cloudjumper." Valka whispered in devastation.

"Leave the Night Fury here. A creature as weak and pathetic as that has no place in my army. Let it die at the hands of Stoick the Vast." It was mocking, but it explained why all the dragons except for Toothless left. After taking a total of six shots before 'killing' Berk's heir, Drago had no use for him.

The Riders, the former Trapper, the Chief, the Dragon Thief and the blacksmith all watched the army of terror leave with their fleet and their dragons. The Bewilderbeast sinking into the ocean once more. They were headed towards Berk, towards their home, and they were powerless to stop it.

Deafening silence settled upon the Sanctuary afterwards. The kind King of Dragons was dead and Hiccup might follow soon. The inhabitents of the island they had all sought to protect were gone. Their home was to be the next target.

The Dragon Riders had been defeated.