A/N: I have a feeling this story is going to change it's direction a hundred times before I actually get anywhere with it... But for now I guess enjoy this horrible cliffhanger of a beginning! I should also say, I've never seen Riders of Berk so if this deviates from that canon as it most likely will, I'm calling it creative license ;)
Disclaimer: Httyd and all it's characters belong to Dreamworks
He remembered thinking it had something to do with static build up in the air. The way that skin prickled and hairs rose on end right before a lightning strike. It had to do with the friction between his leg, metal and the padding; it fed through a strange sort of feedback loop with the charge build up in the atmosphere. He had theorized many different threads of equations and strings of numbers for explanations, curiosity entirely piqued by the strangeness of the situation. A missing limb aching right before a big weather phenomena- unheard of. He couldn't seem to explain why Gobber felt nothing, when he had two very large metal contraptions for limbs himself, or why the throbbing spiked in different ways depending on the event. The tingling sensation where his toes used to be right before a snow storm hit, the dull ache in his non-existent shin when the winds picked up, the shooting pain in his ankle when it started raining. Hiccup couldn't find any trace of anything like it in the history books, or in the elders. The strangest incident was the static shock in his kneecap milliseconds before lightning struck the Great Hall.
He remembered brushing it off for a while, acting like it was just some unfortunate coincidence or unusual talent. Hiccup was the dragon rider now, he had responsibilities and expectations to uphold, so what if his metal leg acted strangely on occasion, right? Hiccup stopped researching it desperately, stopped mentioning the little twinges of sensation to anyone, and let it become an unsolved mystery for the time being.
Of course, the gods couldn't allow Hiccup to get by easily.
It had been a normal morning in Berk, somewhat cloudy and cold, no sight of greenery anywhere, generally unpleasant villager interactions; Hiccup had been in a particularly good mood. After taking Toothless for his morning ride, he'd met up with the others, dealt with the dragons food supply issues, and headed off for a mid afternoon date with Astrid.
Hiccup knew they'd talked for hours, that the sky had been a perfect off gray, and he could feel the press of Astrid's lips to his cheek vividly. He remembered the flash of her smile, the way he'd sighed and felt like floating, and how perfectly the sunset had silhouetted her as she walked down the trail to her home. Then, quite suddenly, static.
The pinpricks had started with a ferocity he'd never experienced before, shooting like trails of fire from some vague point in his Not Leg and ending nowhere in particular. He could hear his own cries for Toothless echoing back at him, the feeling of stones pressing against his palms and then his cheek as he collapsed, and a bright light. The last thing he remembered was the smell of the air pressing into him, his thoughts trailing away from him, jagged words cracking in half, and the sound of thunder.
Growing up in Berk, there weren't too many sun shining, birds chirping kind of days. Typically, it was foggy, raining, and miserable with the added bonus of a large helping of snow nine months of the year. Living so near to an ocean front and on a cliff edge, the weather was typically pretty severe. There were lots of gale force winds, snowstorms, side ways rain, hail, things of that nature. Lightning storms were common.
Hiccup knew a guy when he was little, who had a metal arm and a tendency to use wild flailing gestures while telling stories; he remembered hearing how one day, he'd been out in the hills when lightning had struck him flat. He'd survived, barely, but was bed ridden for months. Even after he'd supposedly recuperated, he'd never really been quite right after. He'd get dizziness spells lasting for hours, his eye sight began to fail him and he went completely deaf in one ear. But, Hiccup supposed, living was better than nothing, and he never seemed so upset about his injuries that he couldn't work up the energy for a rousing explanation of what had happened to him. Amnesia hampering his factual retelling, the stories were interesting in how creative they got each time.
It seemed strange to him too, how despite the Skrill's existence and it's own brand of lightning infused fury, the after effects never seemed as long lasting. Granted, not many existed in the Berk area, and they tended to keep their distance. The largely inquisitive area of Hiccups brain supposed there was an electrical difference in what the Skrill charged itself with and what naturally crackled across the sky. The heat of a true lightning bolt had to be more intense, or the build up on the Skrill not as long. He'd heard of villagers in the past who'd died on site from lightning storms, the worst a Skrill seemed to do was temporarily cause language confusion and burns. Some said after you woke up from unconsciousness after a Skrill attack, your skin felt stretched and your eyelids burned; you had to watch out though because the shock was sometimes enough to stop your heart.
When Hiccup woke up, it was with the pounding of someone's fists on his chest, with stuttering, gasping breaths, and ringing, endless ringing that drowned out all other sounds. Then, blissfully, nothing.