Freefall
The fellbeast broke through the last of the thick-wrong clouds. He flew after it while death blazed in his soul-fire. Power burned between his split-fins; the faint blue glow in the clouds revealed that. The lightning sparked in the cloud around him, ready to be called if he dared risk it out of great need.
He chased after the fellbeast while it snarled at him, but it was no threat.
The Witch-king's eyes of fire blazed, but the Nazgul had no magical power over him anymore.
'I gave you the chance, lost one...'
A blast of his much more powerful fire at the Witch-king would not hit Hiccup as he was under the fellbeast's belly. Kill the Nazgul or at least his mount, and he could easily catch Hiccup after the fellbeast dropped him. That was the way to get Hiccup out of here.
Nothing could hurt them as long as they were there for each other.
'A chance to fulfill your purpose...'
He would never serve the Enemy.
'You chose this...'
He was free!
The fellbeast dropped Hiccup.
Hiccup could not fly on his own since his wings were broken.
Torn between two flights, two goals.
As much as he wanted to flame the fellbeast and the Witch-king, his flight was forced. There was no option but to go catch and save Hiccup. Doing that was all that mattered. Revenge and killing the monster could come later.
So he tucked his wings and dove as fast as he could. If Hiccup could only slow his flight a little... slow down on the wind as much as possible by using his torn wings... it would be easy to...
Something stung his neck.
In annoyance, he batted at the sting. A small, black dart fell away.
What the...
He glanced over his shoulder as the fellbeast pulled up from its dive above him. He had been so focused on Hiccup that he had not seen the fellbeast dive after him or seen the Witch-king shoot that dart at him.
The blurred, dark shape of the fellbeast was winging away toward the distant clouds much further out over the Pelennor. Why was the Nazgul uninterested in him now? That did not matter anyway.
Hiccup needed saving... again...
Right there in the sky before him, reaching out toward him not so unlike their first fouled flight when they learned how to fly together... as one...
Nothing would happen to them as long as they were there for each other...
Were the clouds twisting around him?
Why was it so hard to keep his eyes open?
Why was he so weak?
They would always be there for each other...
As the clouds flew past them both...
So weak and weary...
There was nothing...
Only darkness...
Hiccup's roar of fear was lost in the wind.
It was nearly impossible to breathe with the wind whipping past him. He had no chance to warn Toothless that the Witch-king's fellbeast had dived after them.
A cruel trap, that is what he was. The Witch-king used him to lure Toothless up away into the sky where no one else could aid him. Toothless, ever loyal, had to dive to save him and had been struck by doing so.
His own wings were shredded and slowed him slightly, but not enough to matter. Toothless was falling, tumbling on his back, with his wings fluttering uselessly.
The euphoria that had always come with weightless freefall and flight was not there. There was nothing except terror and fear and panic and breathlessness.
The fume and clouds spun around them and thinned as they fell.
Toothless!
There was no response.
As if Toothless could hear his thoughts and know his feelings. Others like Galadriel had such magic, but not himself.
He was nothing special... only a mere...
The world narrowed to only limp Toothless falling on his back to his death. Nothing else mattered.
The fear and terror for himself... vanished and was replaced by clarity... as he knew himself, as if for the first time in a long time.
His shredded wings and dark armor were a fraud: a way of hiding from and denying what he truly was.
Unable to be accepted among human tribes but accepted by the Fury pack, he had started identifying with them too much. He had been slowly starting to pretend that he was something he was not.
A lesson that Gobber had taught him long ago and which he seemed to have forgotten. Stop trying to be something he was not meant to be.
He was only a human, not a dragon at all.
But, doing the hard work of bringing two very different worlds and peoples together was what he was meant to do.
Changing the world was his destiny.
It made him useful, gave meaning to his life, and kept him from being useless to others.
Had he been using dragons even in wanting a better life for them, just as he had been possessive of Toothless without even knowing it?
Was that his true motivation? Did he truly want a better life for them, or was he only using them to give himself purpose and a place in a world that would have no other need for him?
Was it just out of fear of not having a place and not being needed in the world... just the same fear of being useless again?
Perhaps... and that might have just gotten Toothless killed, let alone himself.
There was nothing he could do about it now. He could not save his best friend and brother.
He was, once again, useless in the end.
Down through the last clouds and out into the darkness above the city.
A terrified glance below revealed where they were: high above and beyond the massive spur that separated the city in two halves, almost directly over the fallen main gate.
So much smoke billowed from the ruined lower levels of the city. He could not see well over the rushing wind, the clouds of smoke, the haze in his thoughts, and the tears welling in his eyes.
But he could tell that the Rohirrim swarmed out beyond the walls as the Mumakil ran rampant while burning to the Furies' fire. Aragorn and his reinforcements had arrived from the west and joined the battle. Soldiers of Gondor were pouring out of the broken gate to join the battle.
A flash of motion dragged his gaze to the open sky below them but above the city.
His meager, gasping breath departed when he saw the approaching white blur.
Moonbeam had seen them in freefall. She was flying as fast as she could. There was still hope.
Catch...
Who?
He had no idea how strong a Light Fury was or how much weight she could carry. He and Toothless were also far enough apart that there was only time for her to catch one of them and fly over to the top of the massive spur.
She would save whoever she wanted, almost certainly Toothless.
But who did he want her to save? It would make no practical difference, since he couldn't influence her choice at all, but the answer felt important for him to decide for himself. His thoughts now were the only part about his life that he could control.
The guilt was so strong. His memories of how he had kept Toothless grounded far longer than he should have been were so terrible.
Toothless was so strong in fighting against the temptation of gold, learning from his past mistakes in relationships, and working hard to help the pack.
And there were Far-Flight, Sky-Dancer, and Breath-Of-Sky to think about also. For them to so recently find their lost true son or brother and then lose him again forever would be too terrible.
She was so close, only seconds away as they approached the height of the spur.
Forgive me, brother...
If Toothless survived this day, he himself would be at peace with that. He could hopefully look down from Valhalla, or whatever the equivalent was for this world, and be at peace that the better person lived.
Losing his own life for a friend and brother was something he could gladly do.
He caught Moonbeam's gaze for the briefest and most everlasting instant. Fear, concern, and something indistinguishable were in her narrowed eyes.
Save him!
There was no way that she could have understood or heard his thoughts, but she dashed forward, threw herself at Toothless, roughly grabbed him out of freefall, and carried the limp Fury over onto the top of the spur.
He briefly saw them as they crashed down in a roll on the edge of the spur, the burning white tree alight in the background. Then that was all gone from his view as the carven rock that formed the spur started flying past him.
They might have had a rough landing, but Toothless would surely live.
It was done.
There was nothing more he needed to see, so he closed his eyes and lost himself in the weightlessness. There was nothing except the roaring wind. Then even the roar of the wind faded because it didn't matter.
Nothing else mattered anymore.
Nothing remained for him to do.
Everything else faded.
The fear withered.
In the silent and weightless freefall, peace and acceptance filled his heart.
His father sat in the Great Hall while sipping an ale and looking out over the entire tribe. Stoick stared right at him and gruffly nodded in approval.
Toothless would be there for Moonbeam and the children they would have together.
Frodo's, Sam's, Merry's, and Pippin's clear laughter in the Green Dragon filled the silence as they downed their mugs of beer.
Toothless would be there for Far-Flight, Sky-Dancer, Breath-Of-Sky, Mystery, and the rest of the pack.
Gandalf's wisdom, hand on his shoulder, and acceptance of Toothless as being a good creature and person.
The pack would be safe in Rohan for as long as they wanted to live there in peace, hopefully forever.
The banners with white horses on a golden and green background flowed in the wind sweeping across the golden plain.
There was only one thing that chilled his heart and disturbed the peace.
Her hair whipped about as their wooden swords crossed under the stars.
He had promised Adney that he would come back, but he was going to have to break that promise. She would hopefully understand why it had to be this way. She might even be best able to help maintain Toothless's automatic tailfin, which she would surely do.
Why did facing imminent, unavoidable death help to clarify so much about what was important in life by stripping away everything else that did not matter? Pride, plans, stubbornness, busyness, insecurities, all of it was nothing. None of that mattered compared to...
Too late in his case.
Not to be.
It would be best to not know the moment. Let it be sudden and hopefully painless; he really didn't love pain that much after all.
But a part of his heart would forever want to fly, even if he couldn't. So he opened his eyes and looked to see the sky and the tall mountain behind the city one last time.
Moonbeam was right there only a few fathoms above. Her wings were tucked, and her eyes were narrowed on him in determination.
What...
She came back for him also? Could she... was there any chance?
Certain death was nothing to fear because the outcome could not be changed. But now, with some small hope, he could not bear to look down as the wind suddenly roared to life and his heart furiously beat again.
Falling so fast, his back to the ground, he had already passed the highest levels of the lower city. Minutes or seconds, it was unclear how much had passed in that timeless freefall.
Even with his spread arms and torn wingsuit helping to slow his fall slightly, there was not enough time.
Or was there?
Unable to breathe as the panic and fear built and as vision started going cloudy and his head began hurting with pressure building within.
Closer and closer, only a couple fathoms now, as another level of the city flew by.
She could not possibly get under him or even grab him with her forearms.
The roar of the wind pounded in his ears, drowning out all other sound... or was that the beating of his frantic, desperate heart?
There was nothing except her purple eyes, now wide in fear from only feet away.
Right past a spire...
No breath left...
He could almost touch her...
No time...
She lunged toward a flailing leg, her teeth flashed, there was a burning like fire as his head erupted with pain...
And then there was nothing except the merciful darkness.