Contradictions and Dragons
-o-
Life had always seemed to be full of contradictions for Hiccup. For every rule he was taught, there seemed to be an exception when it came to him. He would be the victim of trickery, condescension, and even violence without proper cause other than the fact that he existed. From people he'd thought were his friends; his peers. From his father. From random villagers he didn't even know.
He became the unofficial town joke. He began to be cognizant of a whole new kind of cruelty; the suffocation of unspoken disappointment and disapproval in his every word and deed. Who needed water to drown? Hiccup was drowning slowly each day, with every drip of disdain that was or wasn't spoken in his presence, but was nevertheless there, adding to his already generous store.
It figured that the one thing he thought he had done right blew up in his face. It figured that his screwed up existence had led him to this point – feeling a terror so raw and unmatched that he could feel the beats of his heart throughout his being; each a reminder that he was still alive. Still breathing. For a few more seconds. Despite his stupidity.
The last act of his short life had been one of kindness – or so he'd thought. It was obviously very stupid to let loose a Night Fury – the final screwed up act in his whole screwed up, hiccup of a life.
He was very aware of the claws pressing his chest – poking him through his tunic as if he needed reminding that he was only alive at the mercy of this dragon, and with each hammering beat of his heart, his mortality was re-established.
The pressure was gone, suddenly, and he turned his face away, squeezing his eyes shut at the last – unwilling to be a witness to his own demise – and the beast reared back, mouth open wide…
An ungodly roar shook the earth, penetrating Hiccup's fear-drenched soul – he felt the uncomfortably hot dragon-breath on his skin, and its mouth was so close to his head, and oh gods, it was going to roast him alive before even sinking its teeth in, and he hadn't even begun living yet, he was only a boy…
And then the looming presence was gone.
The hammering of his heart was in his throat, and he dared open his eyes. Adrenaline brought him unsteadily to his feet, groping for his knife and turning his gaze to a more distant roar – and there it was, flying erratically through the trees. Away from him.
Makes no sense, his mind fumbled. This was the biggest contradiction of all; he'd encountered a Night Fury and lived to tell the tale. He turned, in shock, back toward the direction of the village – wait until he told…someone. This was unheard of. This was insanity. This was…
He fainted, dead away, before going two steps.
-o-
A U T H O R S N O T E
Juggling several obsessions at once.
Don't judge me.
:D
Working slowly toward more activity!
~Ayaia