Replacement

Hiccup was rightfully proud of himself. It was his masterpiece. The pinnacle of his engineering efforts. Despite being a surprisingly complicated combination of cords and gears it still only added a few pounds to Toothless' harness. But it allowed him to do something that had been denied him since that night attack not so long ago.

Fly solo.

A few loops of leather hung down from the left side of Toothless' tack. By slipping one of his arms into them, he could, crudely, control his tailfin. With practice, and the proper movements of his arm, he could fly on his own once again.

Toothless HATED it.

He didn't hate it because it was difficult to use (it did take some practice.) Nor did he hate it because it was rather clumsy controlling his prosthetic himself (it WAS clumsy, and severely limited the maneuvers he could do.) He didn't even hate it for being a reminder of what he could once do easily on his own, or what he had lost. No, Toothless hated it for one reason and one reason only. He recognized it for what it was.

A replacement for Hiccup.

Oh, Hiccup convinced him to give it a try. He told him it was for emergencies. 'What if he fell off you back again?' His rider had asked. Or what if I'm injured? It was true that with the new harness Toothless could dive after him on his own, or go for help. They were sound reasons, and the only reasons Toothless tolerated the modification and even practiced with it. It COULD allow Toothless to save Hiccup's life one day.

But he still hated it.

He hated it because he'd gained something of unimaginable value in return for his injury. He knew Hiccup still felt guilty over his loss, but Toothless considered it a bargain. It was far more than the easy meals and a warm place to spend the nights. Those were side benefits of no real consequence. It wasn't even the fact that his loss was what eventually led to peace between Vikings and dragons. That was a boon for his race to be sure, but it didn't have any bearing on his personal feelings. No, this cut right to the heart of the matter.

He had a partner. Not like a mate. Not like other dragons he worked besides. This was something different, and wonderful in it's own way. Toothless didn't miss his tailfin much anymore because when they were in the air Hiccup WAS his tailfin. And more. The two of them worked together in such perfect synchronicity that they seemed to be one being as they soared through the sky.

And that was why he hated those dangling straps that would let him fly on his own. Because they were a constant reminder of a terrifying possibility. Someday Hiccup could be hurt. Hurt worse than he already was. Hurt or sick or even killed. And these might not be anything Toothless could do to save him.

And he knew that was why Hiccup had made those changes. Not so much so that Toothless could save him in an accident. Rather it was so that Toothless could still fly even if the unthinkable happened. So that Toothless could still be 'whole' even if his partner was taken from him. So that he could be 'free.'

The very thought made the dragon shudder. Hiccup was practically a part of him. And the thought of taking to the sky without the comforting weight of his young Viking on his back was inconceivable. He was something that no amount of clever gears and cogs and straps (or even his original tailfin) could truly replace.

Flying without Hiccup didn't feel like freedom.

Flying without Hiccup felt like an amputation far worse than his tailfin.