Hi, I hope you like my little drabble. It's my first ever fic and I hope you'll like it. Please review, because only then I can learn from my mistakes. Also, disclaimer: the characters and places I used are not mine and all rights go to dreamworks animation.
Cold. That was all he felt as he lay in the frozen soil of the Berkian forest.
The last rays of sol's light were lighting up the whole forest and it was as though all of nature was celebrating.
Yet all he could feel was the cold chunk of ice where his heart was supposed to be.
After a while he finally moved. Slowly he got up, trying not to hurt his body any more than it already did. He moved as a machine while he made his way back to the village.
He didn't even bother to clean himself up before going inside. It wouldn't matter. His father would notice anyway and he would turn his head anyway like one would when facing a thief or a murderer.
He didn't even bother to explain that he was attacked. That it were the other teens who tortured him and threw him in the dirt. He knew his father didn't care.
And so neither did he...
Years before he did. He would cry himself to sleep and would fight for acceptance! A feeling of being home... Of being loved...
He had tried and tried, but everytime he was kicked down. In his life he had only ever known hate, pain and rejection. Still he had hope to one day find his place. To find acceptance...
At first he had tried to be a viking like everyone else, but he had lacked the strength and everything else.
Unperturbed he had then tried to go about it his own way, but alas...
No one had cared about his work. He was different and they fear what they don't understand.
But the boy had carried on, because one man had not bared any spite towards him. And so he carried on. For him even the smallest spark of love was enough to live on.
Then one day that hope was gone.The one person who had cared for him, all twelve years of his life, had slapped him across his face. In an attempt to beat some sense into the boy. It worked...
The finally understood that his home would never be a home. He was different, useless, weak... and for this he could never be accepted.
The tears he then cried were his very last. For the soul within the boy had broken and died. Just like his once forest green eyes had lost all colour.
For all intents and purposes, it was the moment he had died. He had become as emotionless as the wooden hand that slapped him.
Before he had been as full of life as the most lively of forests.
But now the forest had died.
He kept silent as he got unfairly scolded. He ignored all the insults thrown at his head and trudged on as a machine.
Three years went by and nothing changed. He would get up, eat, work in the smithy, go to the forest, get home, sleep and then do it all again. With the occasional dragon attack, regulary human attacks and lots of insults thrown in.
Then one day something changed. He was walking in the forest and found trees split in two. A bit surprised now, he took a few more steps and saw a dragon.
As quick as he could he got to the ground. Hoping he hadn't been seen. After nothing happened he was certain that was the case and carefully got up again to take a better look.
It wasn't like any dragon he had ever seen. It was sleek and black with seemingly tall wings... all characteristics of the holy offspring of lightning and death itself: the nightfury.
There it lay bound, ready to kill. An easy prey, even for him.
As he got closer, he thought about it. All the pain he had had to endure would stop. He would be praised and loved.
He took out the knife that could make all of it possible. Longly he imagined what would happen if he plunged his knife in it's heart and bring it to his father. He imagined the proud look in the chiefs eyes.
But yet he felt reluctant.
Once more he let his eyes take in the sheer beauty of the killer beast. When he saw the beasts eye staring at him...
As green met green the whole world seemed to pause. His breath stocked as he took in what he saw. He saw not the eyes of a monster, but those of a creature who knew only pain and loneliness.
He saw himself.
Before he knew what he was doing he was cutting the ropes holding the nightfury.
As soon as he... IT was free, the dragon jumped him. But instead of killing the pray trapped under his...ITS paws, it seemed to hesitate and then it left. Fleeing from the boy that drew up feelings, pushed down long ago.
After the dragon was out of sight Hiccup got up, confused about it all. Why didn't he just kill the dragon and why didn't he... IT kill him?! And why did he feel like this!!
He wanted to scream and cry. He wanted to hurt everyone that had ever hurt him...and it made him confused.
He grabbed his hurting head and fell on his knees. Unable to bear the burning feeling in his heart. He groaned. The mental pain so great it became physical.
He hated it. He hated this. To feel the pain, the shame, everything! He wished he could go back to feeling nothing again!
And thats what he did.
He back to the village and his life. Trying desperatly to get back into his routine and to not feel anything...but he couldn't. Something in him had permanently changed and he felt the pain of whole life starting to frown him.
Weeks went by and finally he had had enough.
Distressed by the deep turmoil in his soul he ran through the forest, back to the place where he once again found colour in his gray world.
That's where he noticed the scale...of the dragon.
The dragon, he finally concluded, it was all his... IT'S fault that he was feeling so miserable!
At that moment he wanted to kill it and so he turned all his anger and pain towards that devil.
With renewed vengence he followed the trail of broken trees it had left and came upon a cove. Untouched by vikings, it's sheer beauty could give any viking a feeling of peace.
But he only noticed the abomination right in it's center.
As he climbed down two azure green eyes followed his every movement with blinding hatred. The dragon could kill him... and he wanted to so badly. One small blast and it would be done, but he would wait. Wait until he could could shred the two legs with his own claws.
Both souls couldn't wait to kill each other. To go back to the cold and dark world where they wouldn't feel the pain, the loneliness, the disappointment of living.
But when Hiccup finally stood in the cove and when, once again, green met green both dragon and boy hesitated...
They both saw the pain they knew so well reflected in each others soul.The loneliness that had been the only companion they had ever known seemed so absent in that one moment... and it scared them.
The boy looked away, trying to ignore the feelings, like he had done for years. Again he tried to convince himself it would be better that way, but he found he...couldn't.
He bit hard on his lip, a silent tear slipping down his cheek, as he looked back at the creature who carried a soul identical to his.
He saw the fear and anger. The shame and pain. The loneliness and sadness. He saw a soul as damaged as his.
He saw hope.
A new fire started to burn in his heart as he trew away his knife. Determination painted his face as he cautiously stepped towards the dragon. All the while their eyes stayed connected. A reluctant hope passed between them.
As the boy finally stood before the dragon, feeling it's... his breath on his face, he didn't fear any longer. He reached out his hand and turned away.
Finally he felt the warm scaly nose of the dragon in his palm.
When he looked back into the eyes of the dragon and the dragon gazed into the eyes of the two legs, They both finally broke.
Both souls cried their woes to each other and dried their tears. Comforted by the mere presence of the other.
Until finally the tears became those of joy. For two damaged souls had found healing and hope. They found warmth and colour in a black, icy world.
When they looked into each others eyes they no longer saw the rejection they were used to. They no longer felt lonely in a world full of others.
All they had ever known was a hard world that would never accept difference. They had grown up learning that to survive only the strong learn to adapt... and that the weak that won't, die.
But now looking into the welcoming green of each others eyes they saw the truth.
Adapting to others and changing oneself isn't a strong thing to do, nor are those the ones to survive.The strongest are excactly those brave few, who bear rejection and stay true to themselves.Those are the lucky few who find the promise of an undying trust and acceptance. An understanding love and the only true happiness.