On the Verge of Insanity: The Chronicles of Fate
Story Tagline: You would do anything if you have been pushed to the limit.
Disclaimer: I do not own 'How to Train Your Dragon' nor Dreamworks, and that is pretty obvious, considering that I even bothered putting the word 'Disclaimer' up here.
G'day, mates!
This is just a What-If set during the events from 'The Kill Ring' through to 'Ready the Ships'. After that, it will be where the real deviation begins. It begins at the end of this chapter.
'The Kill Ring' is perhaps the hardest part to write about. There was so much action going on, but I tried my very best.
Chapter rating is 'T' due to slight violence and scenes of a distressing nature. Parental guidance is advised.
Thank you for your time.
Update: I have removed the chapter 'Voyage of the Damned'. Upon reviewing it myself, I find that it was a little too tiring to read and a little odd.
Chapter One: I'm Not One of Them
Chapter Tagline: Viking Rule #1: Follow the crowd... or die.
"I'm not one of them."
It was a final, decisive statement made by a small, frail Viking who was good at nothing. He had been misunderstood, mistreated, underestimated, despised, detested. In the eyes of his village, he was just a runt. A good-for-nothing. He was bullied for Odin knows how long. Considered useless, nobody had any confidence in whatever he does. He often messed up during dragon raids and even claimed to have shot down a legendary Night Fury out of the sky; a feat that had never before been done by a Viking, much less a micro-Viking. Until recently, he proved to be, well, a hiccup. The crowd had been watching in anticipation of bloodshed. In this case, the blood-donor would be a Nightmare. Literally.
Considered one of the most deadliest breed of dragons, the Monstrous Nightmare should never be approached unless by a veteran dragon-busting Viking. There stood Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, part-time blacksmith apprentice and full-time screw-up, it seemed to be an easy meal for the Nightmare, which was at least twenty times the size of the human, complete with five inch canines, eleven inch razor sharp claws, a tail lined with spikes, and a deadly blast of kerosene flame. This was obviously a win-win situation for the dragon. However, the villagers knew that Hiccup had a trick up his sleeve, he always had, and they thought that this was just prelude. They tensed up in excitement and anticipation as the showdown progressed. At first, the boy rendered himself defenceless by disarming himself. Then, he tried talking to the dragon. The villagers thought that that was weird. But they waited for the moment when Hiccup would pull off an Odin-level trick that would knock out the dragon. All their hopes began to plunge when Hiccup took his horned helmet off its place of honor on his head.
Then he flung it onto the floor.
Clatter!
Every single person in the spectatorial stands were stunned by this sudden, rash move made by the Viking. Was the boy crazy? People covered their mouths with their hands. People cringed. People shook their heads in denial and dismay. Even Stoick the Vast stood up from his granite throne to get a clearer view of what was happening. Even when he got the view, he was still in denial. How could his son do that? They had a deal. He had given his only son his wife's helmet. And he throws it on the floor! What the hell was that about. Stoick's fist clenched around the handle of his stone mallet. Something definitely was wrong. And he said the only thing that he could have uttered out after partially recovering from the initial shock.
"Stop the fight."
Hiccup needed to stop. He needed to come up here and explain everything to his father. He needed to stop this madness.
I'll deal with that troublemaker later.
"No!" Hiccup announced. He had managed to get this far in terms of calming down the Nightmare and he wasn't going to let his efforts go down the drain. He needed this opportunity to bring to light the truth. He needed this to make his villagers see. To let his father understand that dragons, aren't as bad as they were rumored to be. They were just mere slaves of a much more horrible monster. If they weren't threatened, they could be gentle creatures. Just as what Toothless had shown himself to be. They were just misunderstood creatures. Just like him.
"I need you all to see this."
The Nightmare approached the boy carefully. It did not know what that Viking could do. Although the small, petite boy had disarmed himself and gotten rid of that helmet, he could still prove to be a dangerous threat, so it wasn't going to let its guard down anytime soon.
"They're not what we think they are." Hiccup said as he extended his left hand in an attempt to touch the Nightmare's snout. He knew that he would have to take it slowly. To gain the Nightmare's trust just like how he gained Toothless's trust. He knew that this was not going to be easy, but he still had to do it. He wanted to be the change. He needed to be the change. The future of Berk, and the fate of everything and everyone he knew and loved rested on his shoulders. It was a daunting task, but he had to do it, because no one else knew the truth.
"We don't have to kill them."
The Nightmare got closer, sizing up the boy. A slight murmur passed through the crowd. They all agreed that the boy had gone nuts. No one ever wanted to spare a dragon's life. Even more so when it is about to eat you. That would be suicide. Stoick had told them to stop the fight. But yet the boy did not seem to be in any mortal peril. Should they? Or should they not? They turned in the direction of Stoick the Vast. The crowd was confused, and waited for the village chief to act. They did not have to wait long, for the next moment, the chief took out his mallet and slammed it down, full force, on the metal grille that encompassed the Kill Ring.
"I SAID, STOP THE FIGHT!"
CLANG!
The sheer force of the impact bent the metal grille and generated a sharp clanging noise that reverberated throughout the establishment. Bad move. For everything that transpired within the next minute forever changed the lives of a father, a son, a dragon, and an entire tribe.
The Monstrous Nightmare reacted almost instantly to the noise. Its pupils contracted into slits and it went on full-alert. In its mind, the boy standing in front of it was nothing more than a threat. And it reacted instinctively to the "threat".
It snapped its jaws at the boy.
Hiccup had to scramble off to his right side to avoid being shredded into pieces. It was a close call, but he wasn't sure if he'd survive for long. He let out a yelp and pumped his legs faster. Just as he thought that he had out run the dragon, a stream of sticky fire missed him by mere inches. He could feel the heat singing his hair but he did not care. He had to run. Far away from the dragon. There was only one escape route: the entrance gate. However, it was blocked by double steel gates.
Please let me out.
In his desperation, he let out a scream. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? Stoick was still standing there, looking down at the commotion. His brain was in dead lock. He could only stare in disbelief at his son, who was trying to avoid being chomped on by a hundred pound dragon.
Hiccup continued running around. He reached the enclosure area and was forced to turn in the other direction to avoid knocking into them. A loud clanging noise told him that the Nightmare was hot on his trail. He did not even bother looking back. Doing just that would only slow him down and increase his chances of being caught between those claws. Landing on the marble floor with a dull thud, the dragon pursued its prey, driven by fear and anger. It nearly got Hiccup with one of its sharp claws, making a nice incision on his back. The boy cringed and nearly fell, but kept his balance. Blood started blossoming from the wound and pain shot right up. He wondered how long he would last just by running around. If the dragon were to continue scratching his back, he'd probable die from blood loss.
"Out of my way." Stoick declared, shoving aside a few Vikings and making his way to the entrance gate. The sight of blood seemed to have cleared his mind and he was now able to think straight. He needed to save his son, right now. Any other issues, he'd deal with them later on.
"Hiccup!" shouted Astrid as she pounded against the iron gates. She might have been a strong Viking, but she certainly wasn't strong enough to life a one thousand pound gate. Stoick may have been coming down to save his son, but Astrid feared that by that time, Hiccup'd be dead. So she did something out of instinct.
She grabbed the nearest axe that was hanging by the wall.
Astrid had brains. She certainly did know the basic working principles of a lever. Though not as good as Hiccup, she still was able to create a simple lever that would enable her to lift the gate with little effort.
Placing the metallic end of the axe at the seam underneath the gate, she placed her hands on the other side of the axe and pushed with all her might. The gate was lifted up a little, supported by the axe, it created a small opening at the bottom of it, just enough room for flexible Astrid to get through. She slid in through the opening and propelled herself out of the seam using her hands. She had to save her Hiccup. And when Astrid has her mind set on something, she never gives up.
Hiccup was still running in circles, trying to flee from the terrifying monster. Another blast of fire missed Hiccup's head by inches. He had to duck in order to get out of harms way. Adrenaline gave the boy strength he never before knew. Scrambling to the weapons rack at top speed, he yanked a shield off its restraints. That would prove to be of little use, for the Monstrous Nightmare slammed into the wooden rack, splintering it and sending Hiccup on a trajectory towards the wall. He crashed into it, but luckily, the shield absorbed most of the impact. He recovered quickly, thanks to adrenaline, and dumped the shield. Cuts and lacerations lined his face, arms and legs, courtesy of the splintered rack, but the pain seemed nonexistent.
Another blast of fire missed its intended target and clung onto the iron gates to the enclosures. It made a sizzling noise on impact. Stoick had finally reached the outer iron barrier and lifted it up with one huge heave. The amount of force must have jammed the pulleys, for the gate remained opened after that.
"Hiccup!" Astrid cried out again as the Nightmare made another laceration on Hiccup's back. It was no good. And Astrid went into battle mode. She ran to the pile of wooden splinters that was once a weapon rack and grabbed the stone mallet. Actually, she kicked it into the air using her foot and grabbed it by its handle. She did a complete three-sixty and used the momentum to propel the mallet unto the Nightmare's snout. It found its mark and made a nasty cracking noise. The mallet clattered onto the floor and disappeared into the open enclosure. Shaking its head, the Nightmare brought both good news and bad news. Good news was, it had decided to spare Hiccup and go for Astrid instead.
Bad news was, it had decided to spare Hiccup and go for Astrid instead.
Growling in anger and frustration, the Nightmare charged in the Viking girl's direction, catching her by surprise. She let out a gasp of surprise tinged with a little fear and ran round the pile of splinters, with the Nightmare speeding after her. It was at that time that Stoick finally reached the second iron gate and hoisted it upwards. He had created an escape route for the two young Vikings already. Now, it was a matter of getting them out of the ring before the Nightmare does.
"This way!" he shouted in an attempt to get their attention, waving his hand as an emphasis.
Another stream of fire found its way out of the dragon's mouth and it missed Astrid. She made a full speed sprint towards Stoick. She was first to get there and Stoick held her back with his hand. Hiccup saw that there was an entrance and ran in that direction too. He was hoping that the adrenaline would keep him running and that the dragon would be dumb enough to continue chasing him.
Turns out that dragons were not at all, dumb.
The Nightmare was down to its last shot, and it was a shot well spent. A blast of fire found its way to the side of the entrance gate, spraying the deadly liquid all over the place. Stoick and Astrid had to jump out of the way and Hiccup was forced to make a U-turn. The dragon dug its claws into the marble wall and utilized it as a springboard to propel itself to its prey.
This time, the dragon's calculations were correct.
Something heavy landed on Hiccup's back and he felt pain centered on his upper back and left arm. He could feel the warm liquid that was blood trickling down his arm and onto the floor. The force knocked him onto the floor and he hit his head. It took him a while to regain his eyesight, but when he did, he wished he hadn't.
He was facing a row of razor sharp teeth. Teeth that were specifically designed for ripping flesh. The teeth of a Monstrous Nightmare. The crowd was muttering things, but he could not make out what they were saying as his hearing was still screwed up from the concussion. His head hurt and he only knew one thing: his headache was going to end soon. The Nightmare had a nasty grin plastered on its snout. One that it gives its prey only when they are about to get devoured. And Hiccup was sure that he was going to be joining the countless of sheep that had died due to this dragon. He had failed in his mission to tell the truth about dragons, all because of his father and his knack for attracting trouble.
I'm sorry, everyone.
Hiccup resigned to fate and closed his eyes. He knew that his death was going to come, and he hoped that it would come quickly. Had Toothless been feeling the same way when Hiccup was about to kill him? The hopelessness and the feeling of despair. No wonder he was so pissed after getting released. He was going to miss that funny face of his dragon's and the screech that he knew so well.
Wait a minute… was that a screech?
Even amongst all the muttering and commotion, one noise stood out. It seemed to have emanated from everywhere. Yet, something about that was wrong. They did not attack during the daytime, they only attacked during the night. Even so, the crowd went silent, listening to that noise struck fear in their hearts. Why had it decided to join the Eat Hiccup session?
Gobber raised his head and looked in the direction of the noise.
Then it showed itself.
The Night Fury was a blur. Rising up from beneath the raised platform, it soared to a certain height before darting straight for the metal cage called the Kill Ring. The Vikings standing just below it just realized that it was there and quickly dived out of its flight trajectory. A final screech of anger and a blue fireball made itself known.
The metal grilles that had been there a fraction of a second ago had been vaporized by the explosion. A whirlwind of blue flames proceeded the main explosion and expanded outwards in all directions. A few unlucky remaining Vikings were scorched by the heat and all of them let out yelps of pain just as the black blur disappeared into the smoke-filled arena. It took a second before the crowd could process what had just happened.
A Night Fury had just entered the Kill Ring with Hiccup still inside.
"Somebody help him!"
Through the smoke, Hiccup could not see anything, only that he felt the Nightmare's claws being pulled out of the ground and there were some thudding noises. Curious Vikings ran closer to the metal grilles and started talking amongst themselves. A loud, agonized roar ensued before the two dragons came out of the smoke and made themselves known.
A few Vikings gasped at the sight. Not because the dragons were fighting, but because this was the first time anyone had ever seen a Night Fury up close. The first time in seven generations. Gobber managed to regain his bearings and, using the metal grille as a support, said,
"Night Fury."
The two fighters twisted and landed kicks on each other. Toothless was on the top of the Nightmare and the latter tried frantically to bite the former. It finally managed to turn the tables by propelling itself into the air and twisting its body mid-air, flinging the Fury off its back and landing on the ground on to of it. The Nightmare currently had the upper hand. But the Night Fury wasn't done. Scratching the Nightmare on its snout, Toothless finally managed to distract the Nightmare enough to grab it by the sides of its head and twisting it around. As a natural response, the Nightmare's body went limp in fear of breaking its neck from the exertion of force. With the Nightmare temporarily disabled, Toothless was able to use his powerful leg muscles to launch the red dragon into the air. It landed on the other side of the ring and continued snarling. The Fury crouched low on his four paws, ready to defend his rider.
Inching closer to his rider, Toothless trained his eyes on the Nightmare, his pupils turning into silts and he snarled even louder. The Nightmare made a few attempts to get at Hiccup, but were all thwarted by Toothless, who just pounced into the required position and snap his jaws right in front of the Nightmare's snout. Eventually, he let out a roar and emphasized it with a swipe of his paw. That seemed to have done the trick, for the Nightmare let out a snarl of fear and backed away from the black dragon, clearly intimidated.
Hiccup, who had been sitting on the floor behind his dragon watching the entire fight, had regained enough of his senses to know that they were already in deep trouble, both with his tribe and his father. It was not everyday that you see a Night Fury popping into the Kill Ring. How did Toothless get here without any aid, Hiccup did not know. Perhaps he would never know the answer. Now, he had only one thing in his mind. Get Toothless out of here and out fast. Or his dragon would risk getting disemboweled by his mad, dragon-slaying tribe. It seemed like a pretty easy choice. Except that the crowd had already gone berserk.
"GET IT!"
Vikings started dropping into the arena through the gaps in the metal grilles. It was sheer madness. Everyone wanted to kill, dismember and disembowel the demon that had plagued their village for centuries. Hatred coursed through their veins. That, combined with pure fury, forced them to approach the thing they had feared for so long without hesitation. If there was one thing the Vikings hated, it was a dragon who flew free.
"Toothless, get out of here. Now!" Hiccup urged. There was no use, no matter how hard he pushed against that snout, he could not get that dragon to budge. There was no getting out of this anymore. His adrenaline seemed to have worn off and now that the danger was over, he started to feel the pain. He had to bite his lips to keep himself from screaming.
To make matters worse, Stoick also wanted to disembowel his dragon.
Grabbing an axe from the wall, the huge Viking chieftain charged for the black, murderous beast.
"Stoick, no!" Astrid shouted.
"No! Dad! He won't hurt you!" Hiccup screamed.
Toothless seemed to have noticed that a Viking was present in his periperhal vision and let out a low, warning growl. When Stoick did not comply, the Fury decided to take matters into his own paws.
He charged straight for the red, murderous human.
With an almost expert-level muscle coordination, Toothless batted one Viking aside with his front left paw, and another with his hind paw. A final swipe of his tail downed five Vikings in one go. All that happened in less than one second.
"No, don't! You're only making it worse!" Hiccup shouted, feeling helpless.
He leapt into the air and caught Stoick with his front paws. The forward momentum sent the both of them on a pin roll. When they came to a stop, Toothless had Stoick pinned under his paws. The dragon had won out in the end and was preparing to roast Hiccup's father like they did with roasting chickens. His father's axe lay out of reach and all that Hiccup could do was to watch in horror and say, "Toothless, stop!"
Stoick continued to struggle in an attempt to throw off the mass that was pinning him to the ground. In the end, he decided to give up struggling and stared straight into the toxic, green eyes. The Fury opened its jaws and concentrated his fuel-mist in a cavity at the back of his mouth. So this is how it is going to end. Stoick the Vast dies by a Night Fury. At least he died an honorable death.
"No." Hiccup breathed.
The Night Fury refused to comply and continued feeding gas into his mouth cavity. Any second now and Stoick's face would be blasted into oblivion.
"NOOO!"
Hiccup did not know what gave him the power to shout that out but he did. It seemed to have done the trick and the dragon swallowed the gas in a strangled yelp. Turning in his rider's direction, he gave Hiccup a sorrowful moan. The dragon had hesitated, and now, he was in mortal peril. A fatal mistake, no doubt.
"Get him!" someone shouted.
A heavy punch was landed on Toothless's snout and he shook his head to clear it. He did not have the time to recover and react before a sharp object made contact with him, splattering blood on the floor. Moaning in pain, Toothless loosened his grip on the Viking chief and he was able to get free, allowing the Vikings to pin the Night Fury down on the floor. One man might not have done the trick, but seven adult Vikings certainly did. The Fury struggled to throw off the suffocating mass but couldn't. The Vikings were too strong and they won.
"No, no, no! Please not hurt him! Please just don't hurt him."
Hiccup tried frantically to reach for his dragon, who was under a pile of human, but was held back by Astrid. No matter how hard he strained, he could not break free of Astrid's iron grip. Now they were screwed. Seriously screwed.
Stoick stumbled a little as he got up. Toothless groaned and tried to shake off the Viking that was forcing his jaw down, but failed. He gave up trying. There was no point in it anymore. The battle was lost but at least he had saved Hiccup. Stoick turned around to face his attacker. Meanwhile, more Vikings flooded into the Ring and formed a circle around the human pile. Another group of Vikings were leading the Monstrous Nightmare back into its enclosure.
"Toothless!" Hiccup screamed. He could not help it. The more he struggled, the harder Astrid resisted. Finally, he resigned to fate and just hung in Astrid's hands, his hands outstretched. A Viking walked up to Stoick and offered him an axe.
"You do the honors." he said.
Toothless eyes and Stoick's eyes met for a fraction of a second, and Stoick had made a decision. Pushing aside the offer for the axe, he announced,
"Put it with the others."
The Vikings complied immediately. The Terrible Terror's enclosure had recently been vacated since its original tenant had died a day ago, so the Vikings restraint Toothless's snout with a simple belt around it and shoved him into the dark enclosure for the time being. The frantic cries of the dragon could still be heard even after the door was closed. After some time, the noise was reduced to slight whimpers. No one cared about that. They just thought that the demon deserved it.
Stoick was barking orders to the nearest Vikings again.
"You! Clean up the mess around here! And you! Get that breach fixed!"
Spitelout moved up to Stoick and whispered in his ear, "What are you going to do with that beast?"
"Kill it. At midnight, we'll kill it. Slowly. Everyone will take part in that." Stoick seethed. Then he added, "After I'm done with someone…" he looked at Hiccup. "I'll be back."
Stoick walked up to where Astrid was standing and snatched Hiccup away from her by the scruff of his neck. Hiccup knew that he was doomed. He had broken the Viking law and is going to be punished severely for it. Being exiled or facing horrendous torture would be a huge privilege. At the very best, the worst thing that could happen to him was the death penalty. He had committed a heinous crime by protecting, riding, and harboring a dragon. He was, in all aspects, doomed. Stoick's manhandling was an example of that.
It was a long drag. Stoick dragged his son along the wooden bridges, across grass patches, across rough brick roads, and across sandy paths. It was torturous. He already sustained injuries to his leg while being attacked by the Monstrous Nightmare and this dragging was making it worse. The village was silent as everyone had been assembled at the Kill Ring to watch a killing that had never happened. Pain surged through his knee as the cuts get rubbed by the ground, leaving a trail of blood behind. Hiccup was being dragged by his hand, with Stoick in the front, that meant that the lower half of his leg was always in contact with the ground. Very painful.
They reached the Meade Hall after a ten minute walk (drag). By that time, Hiccup's knees were injured so badly that the pieces of flesh were hanging limply off the wound. Hiccup was disgusted by that, but Stoick wasn't done. He righted Hiccup, which inflicted serious pain, and flung him at the door, the momentum of which was enough to force it open. Hiccup stumbled and fell onto the ground, but managed to get himself up. He turned to face his furious father. Everything he had done until ten minutes ago was to hide the secret of hiding and befriending a dragon from his father. Now, with the secret out, he was going to be killed by his father. The tall Viking chief loomed over the smaller, frailer one. He continued walking forwards, closing the huge oaken door behind him, leaving only a small gap in between the doors to allow a little light.
"I should have known. I should have seen the signs." Stoick mumbled. Hiccup walked along with his dad, though his dad was walking way to fast for him.
"Dad?"
"We had a deal!" Stoick shouted. After all those weeks, Hiccup had been operating on lies? On tricks? To win the attention of the village and use it as an opportunity to unleash mass destruction?
"I know we did. But that was before, I… ohh, its all so messed up."
"So everything in the ring, a trick?" Stoick thrust his finger at Hiccup and turned away just as he said, "A lie?" He started to walk deeper into the Meade Hall, leaving Hiccup in the light. He decided to do some damage control before the situation got out of hand. And it really was getting out of hand.
"I screwed up. I should have told you before now. I just… you just…" Hiccup stammered. He hated it when he was stammering towards the end of his sentences. It was irritating and he did not like it one bit. He needed to tell his father that dragon's aren't that dangerous, but that was pretty hard, especially when you have a hundred pound dangerous Viking that could break you into half.
"Take this out on me, be mad at me, but please, just don't hurt Toothless." he said lamely.
At the mention of the word 'Toothless', Stoick whipped around and berated Hiccup.
"The dragon? That's what you're worried about?Not the people you almost killed?"
Hiccup argued his point that Toothless was not at all dangerous, just merely an overprotective guardian dragon, "He… he was just protecting me! He's not dangerous."
"They've killed hundreds of us!" Stoick hollered, his voice echoing throughout the vast expanse of the hall.
"And we've killed thousands of them!" argued Hiccup in an equally loud volume. "They defend themselves, that's all! They raid us because they have to."
Stoick have had enough of the annoying little boy and waved his hand in a sort of dismissing gesture, turning around and staring into the darkness, pacing as he did so.
"If they don't bring enough food back, they'll be eaten themselves. There's something else on their island, dad. It's a dragon like…"
Stoick stopped pacing as soon as he heard the word 'island'. He whipped around to face his son with a definite aura of seriousness about him. Both of them stared into each other's eyes. Stoick's stare bored into the small Viking boy, making him feel very uncomfortable.
"So, you've been to the nest?" he whispered in a low, dangerous tone. Hiccup slowly inched away from his father as he was feeling very uncomfortable. He wanted to run out of the Meade Hall this very instance. His father was acting as if his son were a dragon, and that he wanted to kill the person who was standing right in front of him.
"Er, did I say nest?" Hiccup said. He lost the power to articulate the last word and it was heard as nothing more than a murmur. Stoick the Vast could not accept that as an answer and berated his son with another question. He needed to get to the bottom of the matter. How could a small, insignificant person be able to locate the elusive Dragon's Nest?
"How did you find it?" Stoick pressed. After centuries of searching, could the answer finally be here?
"No, er, I didn't. Toothless did. Only a dragon could find the nest." Hiccup's voice trailed off towards the end of his speech. A million thoughts were racing through Stoick's mind. Finding the Dragon's Nest was as simple as forcing a dragon to lead you there? How stupid was that? The chief made a mental note to bring that wretched Night Fury along on the expedition. Then, another piece of logic hit him in the head. It did not take long for him to put two and two together.
His son had been riding on a dragon. A Night Fury.
Hiccup had committed the ultimate act of betrayal. He had sold his trust to a dragon and protected it. He should be punished for his crime. Hiccup was no less than a criminal. A branded traitor to the Vikings. Such a crime was punishable by death, or exile, whichever comes first. After all he had done to help his son, to educate his son, to nurture him, he had betrayed them. He was no less than a dragon. And the boy had the cheek to talk some more.
"Oh no, dad. It's not what you think it is…" Hiccup began. It clearly wasn't getting the attention of the huge stocky man. He grunted and pushed the small boy aside as he walked towards the great oaken doors, headed for the harbor. He was going to end this silly war once and for all. He was going to barge into the Dragon's Nest, send them running, and mission accomplished. But this boy kept on pestering him, running alongside and tapping his arm.
"… you don't know what you're up against, dad. It's like nothing you've ever seen." he continued.
Yeah, right. Like there's going to be anything much more dangerous than a Night Fury. After all, we have a chained-up one leading us to the den. After we are done with the mission, we'd disembowel the damned beast and incinerate his remains.
"No, dad." the small Viking breathed out. He picked up speed in order to keep up with his dad. He was going way too fast, and the damned injuries were slowing him down. The Viking chief ignored the boy and trudged on, going faster and faster with each step.
"No!"
Hiccup was desperate. Would his father just listen to him for once? Desperate times usually called for desperate measures, and Hiccup wasn't sure if this counted as a desperate time. He risked it and made one final lunge for his dad's left arm, grabbing onto it and he exhaled, in one go, a sentence that randomly formed in his head out of desperation.
"For once in your life, would you please just listen to me!"
He expected his father to react to his sudden desperate outburst. Instead, to his utmost surprise, Stoick the Vast flung his own son right off his arm. Hiccup hit the floor like a rag doll, stunned by this sudden, rash move. Had his own father thrown him onto the floor? It seemed like he did. When he did regain his senses and looked up to the man who had thrown him on the floor, Hiccup could not recognized the man's face. However, he was the very person who had given Hiccup his wife's horned helmet, the very person who supported him during the semi-finals yesterday. It all seemed like a billion years ago for the look on the man's face was not that of love, but that of disdain and hatred. When he spoke, it was in a bland and emotionless tone. Something that the chief specially reserved for doomed dragons.
"You've thrown your lot in with them. You're not a Viking."
Hiccup did not care at that point in time whether or not he was a Viking. All he wanted was for the man to love him, to care for him once again. He missed those good old days when he was just an infant without a care in the world. He just wanted a family. A father. A real father. The person who was called Stoick the Vast.
Whatever Stoick said next hurt Hiccup as if someone had run a knife through his heart.
"You're not my son."
A small tear welled up in the Viking chief's eyes. He wiped it off almost instantly and turned around to walk out of the hall, slamming the door behind him, leaving his only son in the dark.
"Ready the ships!" Stoick shouted the command to no one in particular. The village was still deserted but the chief wasn't thinking straight. Too many things had just happened during the past thirteen minutes. First, the Nightmare trick. Second, this… Toothless thing. Third, he exiled his own and only son. Fourth, he wanted to go on an expedition to the Dragon's Nest.
"Dad." Hiccup croaked weakly. He was already bleeding severely from various wounds located all over his body. He crawled along the floor, trying so desperately to reach for the silhouette of the man standing just beyond reach. So close, yet so far.
"Dad!" the boy called out, this time with much more strength and emotion. It was in fruition. Soon, the silhouette disappeared into the distance, and never before did Hiccup feel to alone in his life. This was the worst thing that was ever going to happen to him.
"No… dad."
He wanted to cry. He wanted to break down mentally. He wanted to sit there and cry a river for the entire span of the day. He knew that even the toughest Vikings would be no match at all for the gargantuan dragon that resided within the bowels of the volcano. And Toothless would not be of much help.
"Dad…"
He lost the energy and will to mutter anymore 'dads', so he fell silent. There was going to be no use crying right there and the. Anyway, he was already exiled, which meant that he needed to get out of this place before he'd get screwed by some guard or something. Since they were going on the Dragon's Nest search and destroy expedition, they'd all be assembled at the harbor in the next thirty minutes. Hiccup guessed that he should be standing nearby the harbor or somewhere near it. After years of scouting the area, he decided that he should stand on one of the raised wooden platforms that were built higher than any other structure in the harbor. That would give him a very good view on what was going on and to keep him safe from intrusion.
Off to the harbor then.
He picked himself up from the floor and he wobbled unsteadily on his two legs. When he finally got around to stabilizing his legs, he sneaked out through the oaken doors and proceeded in the direction of one of the cliffs surrounding the harbor. Perched halfway up the cliff was a wooden platform which will allow him a birds eye view of the harbor but keep him from being noticed. He was inconspicuously small already, so blending in would not be a big problem.
Meanwhile, Stoick and Spitelout were busy rallying the Vikings and organizing them back at the Kill Ring. They had been told that there was a way to find the Dragon's Nest and that it would require some manpower. There was an air of disagreement at first because no one believed that there would actually be a way to get to their desired destination. It took a little explanation, the job of which fell upon Stoick. It took a few more tries before they could convince the elder to actually allow them to use the Night Fury for this experiment. If this worked, it would mean the end of a centuries old conflict.
Ten minutes later, they were all gathered at the harbor. Men busied themselves with the tightening of sailing ropes, the organizing and distribution of various weapons and the organization of Vikings into different battle groups. They were organizing the last of the battle groups when they found that they were short of people on the twentieth boat. They could not afford to have lesser people in this final assault, but they had already run out of people. Stoick frowned, and wondered what they could do. Just then, Spitelout trotted up to Stoick and said, "Why not we use the teenagers? They have been training very well."
After due consideration, they finally decided that they should drag the teenagers along with them. They were of age and had performed reasonably well. That additional increase made up for the shortage of manpower on the twentieth boat and they were ready to set off. Actually not yet ready because they were still missing one very important cargo.
The Night Fury.
"Get that damned beast over here!"
Catapults were being loaded onto the ships as well. After the last catapult came into the harbor through the gates, the last and most important cargo arrived on a huge wooden contraption that anchored Toothless to the, well, contraption. He was moved up a ramp that was coiled around a carved out granite structure and right at the top was huge wooden crane that was operated by two, huge, muscular Vikings. However, this was not their usual cargo of catapults. This time, it was a dragon. A Night Fury. Getting the chains on wasn't easy. The Night Fury was constantly rattling on his restraints and they were forced to clamp a huge wooden clamp around his neck as an added precaution. After they had secured the wooden contraption to the crane, the Viking gave the 'go' signal and the wheel was turned, slowly lifting the contraption up into the air. The Night Fury shook violently against the metal bolts, generating clanging noises that was painful to the ear. The village elder, who was watching from one of the wooden jetties, pulled her grandchildren closer to her as a gesture of comfort.
The load was finally deposited unto the boat where Stoick was standing on. The last bit of equipment had been loaded and they were ready to leave for Hellheim's Gate. The high-tension anchor ropes were severed and the boats drifted with the wind, all of them en route for the Dragon's Nest.
"Set sail! We head for Hellheim's Gate!" Stoick announced. He turned around to face the harbor after finishing that sentence and made eye contact with the one person he did not wish to see at this moment.
Hiccup Horrendous Haddock was standing on the raised wooden platform.
The both of them locked eyes with each other. Stoick felt a tinge of guilt and regret, while Hiccup was feeling sorrowful. Determined to focus on the task at hand, Stoick adverted his gaze from his former son and turned to face the damned beast. He stared at it with utmost hatred.
"Lead us home, devil." He spat with venom and disdain. The chief was determined to make Toothless's last hours on Earth miserable. He would first make its last hours miserable, then when it was time to kill the beast, he would slowly break its bones, starting from its legs and working his way up to the skull. The best thing that could happen to the beast is that he'd lose consciousness due to the pain because drowning in one's own blood is a horrible way to die.
The fleet of ships disappeared into the horizon an hour later, leaving Hiccup in a very empty harbor. He felt lonely. Astrid, Snotlout, the twins and Fishlegs had been forced on board those ships and get sent off to an unknown destination. He missed Astrid. He missed Stoick. He missed Toothless and just about everyone else. He wasn't even sure if he would ever see his friends again. Or Toothless. Or his father. His old father.
It was, at best, described as a suicide mission. No one could ever compete with a behemoth that size. Hiccup doubted if Toothless would be able to down that beast. This was going to be a very long wait, if they ever returned.
What had he done to deserve this? Sure, he'd mess up sometime during dragon raids but isn't that humiliating enough already? Why did the gods have to land him in this pitiful situation? Why did they chose to harass a weakling? Are the gods really that cruel? Now he had lost everything. His father, his tribe, his best friend. How did things get so screwed up? What had went wrong? Perhaps this was just destiny. Perhaps things were fated to be this way. There was nothing he could be able to do to stop destiny.
He was slowly losing his mind, having stared at the glistening water and self-reflecting on his bad luck for nearly an hour. A million thoughts were racing through his mind. He felt like committing suicide, yet that would be extremely irresponsible. Not only will that prove that Hiccup Horrendous Haddock is a weakling, it will also prove that he only wants to take the easy way out of the mess that he had created.
It was all Toothless's fault. It was all the dragon's fault. Why? He did not know. It just felt very comfortable to have someone whom you could push all the blame to. If that wretched dragon did not even show up or get born in the first place then this would not have happened. All this was courtesy of Toothless. Stupid dragon. Damn him and his overprotectiveness. He could have just stayed at the cove and left the job of defeating the Nightmare to Stoick. Stupid, disobedient, despicable trash.
Then he thought of all those times when he flew with Toothless. The good old days where Hiccup would just mount the saddle and they'd both take off. The crash landings were fun and Toothless never failed to surprise him. Hiccup remembered fondly about the grass which Toothless got so addicted to, and it worked for other dragons too. He never failed to learn a thing or two from Toothless during these sessions together, be it the reflection, the scratch or the grass. He learned something new about dragons everyday for a week.
As these memories came flooding back to the small, frail-looking boy, he sat down on the wooden planks. He sat down.
And cried.
He was sobbing. This was too much for the boy to take. Toothless had been a big responsibility. He was a dragon. And dragons had lives too. It might seem insignificant the life of one. It might not make a huge difference. However, it makes a difference to the one who has that life. And Hiccup had pretty much sent Toothless's life, along with countless of other Viking lives, on a one-way ticket to Valhalla. He was not ready for that kind of responsibility. He didn't even dare kill an ant, much less alter the lives of five thousand Vikings.
Hiccup rarely sobbed. He was strong. He had determination and perseverance. He only cried when things are turning hopeless. And him crying was a very good indicator that the situation had gone beyond hopeless. This was one such case.
He could have been sitting there for more than five hours, crying his eyes out. When he was finally done, he wiped away the tears and sat there, looking at the setting sun. The voyage had left nearly six hours ago, and them not coming back to Berk after such a long time meant that something bad must have happened to the Vikings, either on the journey there, or the behemoth might have wiped out the entire armada of Vikings. Either way, nothing ended in the people surviving.
Serve them right, thought Hiccup. Serve them right for mistreating me and not listening to me. If they had, this tragedy could have been adverted. Now where are they? Valhalla?
The Viking boy stood up. He decided that there would be no use crying over spilt milk. After being gone for so long, chances are that the members of the expedition team are dead. They would never return to Berk to tend to the farms or to watch another dragon being killed.
Hiccup wanted to leave Berk. He had suffered too many hardships on this island. He wanted to move to another island and settle down. He wanted to forget about this place. Yes, he had been born here, but he had also been exiled from here, here.
Fine, you can exile me. I'll just settle down on another island.
He'd be more than happy to settle down on another island. He wanted to forget all those bad memories that this place had brought. He did not want to go to the Dragon's Nest to save the day. No thanks. The Vikings had rejected his help once, he wasn't going to do it again. Risking his life after all they had done? It was a laughable matter in terms of its stupidity.
Sure, he'd miss Toothless and Astrid, but since it was destiny, might as well follow it.
Every time you step outside, disaster follows! Can't you not see that I've bigger problems?
Tears started rolling down his cheeks and he ran for the harbor.
You don't even care about me.
There was an abandoned fishing boat that he could use to row across to another island.
It's not so much what you look like, it what's on the inside he can't stand.
More tears streamed down the length of his faec as he clambered aboard the ship. He took hold of the oars and started rowing, steering the boat out of the harbor and into the open sea. He may not have been an expert at rowing boats but he had been on enough fishing trips to know how to row and steer a boat. Well, at least the fundamentals.
You've thrown your lot in with them. You're not a Viking.
You're not my son.
That gave Hiccup the strength to row the boat away from Berk without looking back. Without regrets. Without ever returning to it.
He's got nothing to lose. Nothing to hide. Might as well get away from this place.
Because that was the way things were meant to be.
End of chapter 1
I am so glad you lasted this long. Thank you very much.
So, tell me how I did. Reviews are greatly appreciated.
Stay tuned and have a happy April Fool's Day!