Chapter 1 - Brother of Blood, Part I

Hayden Horrendous Haddock III was a wee gangly thing for someone at the age of sixteen. So really, he was more of a hiccup than a Hayden. This was a common thing for those who lived in Berk, of course, if one wasn't royalty... or the King's son.

Oh. Right. Proper title: Prince Hayden Horrendous Haddock III, Heir to Central Berk and the Berkian Peninsula, known as "Hiccup" by his father and the palace servants, although the name didn't stick until later. He wore stunning and extravagant tailored waistcoats and cloaks laced with the finest of silk and gems, though he found it all rather tasteless. As were most of the people he found himself surrounded by.

All would have been fine─ he could have managed it until he took the throne─ if it weren't for the fact that he was so small. The poor boy had long been a disappointment to his father─ nearly his whole life, in fact. No matter how hard he tried to partake in more Princely matters: politics, etiquette, and matters of war; he could not put his heart into it. The two areas in which he could get away with this, however, would be in his intellect and his swordsmanship. It was true, his father believed the intelligence could better be applied toward the areas he was weakest and his sword could better be used in his right hand, but the King knew where to draw the lines currently. He believed his boy would bulk up and take everything seriously soon. Hayden was just a little behind. He had been born early, after all.

Born early and taken away from his mother all too soon. Hayden had been told the story when they believed he was old enough, but deep down somewhere, he'd had a guess about it all along. Supposedly, the ruthless and uncivilized Esyrani people of the southern continent had broken past the Defense Archipelago─ a manmade series of islands surrounding the Bay of Berk that was maintained by Western Berk─ and tried to raid the shores of the most prosperous city on the Earthen Seas. That detail would always baffle the Prince, but he knew better than to argue with his father. Hayden was only a few months old when it happened. Either way, in his studies, Hayden had learned that the Esyrani had a custom of taking a chief's first born from a successful or failed raid back to the mainland to sacrifice to their gods as appeasement for their will of the fates. Hayden was supposed to be that sacrifice, but apparently his mother had taken his place. He had no way of knowing for sure, but it was fair to assume that his mother was dead. Everyone in the kingdom accepted her fate, and played the King and Queen's song every year as a remembrance for her.

This sixteenth year since the event, however, the King used it as his song of significance as he embarked on a journey to exact vengeance on the Esyran mainland much to Hayden's disapproval. The Prince would have loved to go sailing with his father, but not into battle. Despite being his father's son, he was passive to the extreme.

Including passive aggressive.

It had been a full month since his departure and Hayden was worried that he'd have to be crowned King early too. He knew not how to run a kingdom, as much as he'd tried to learn through the books. All that he really had learned through the books was that being ruthless would certainly get one the prize for a short while, but it would never be maintained that way. The Prince was silently thankful that the ruthless part had been done with for the Berkian Empire (as some of the higher royal members gloated) and he would merely have to seek ways to maintain the hold, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to do that at all. The Berkian bourgeoisie held all rights to trading, taxes, and sailing rights from the Sea of Dragons in the south to the Voreian Ocean in the north. These had mostly come into play during the Age of Pirates, some thirty years prior, but the rules unfairly held, even for the commoners. Thus, most of the Berkian Peninsula was hated. Hayden knew what it felt like to be hated. That had to change.

But he couldn't be the one to change Berk. He was one person among the thousands of aristocrats that would overthrow him at the first sign of weakness. The Prince felt like he was already down and out, and he hadn't even left the palace yet!

That's right: Prince Hayden had not seen the slightest notion of the outside world except from the view of his estate's various balconies and from the various traders that brought precious goods from lands Hayden had only ever read in ancient and outdated texts─ which never had any maps. The traders' stories, particularly those of Ol' Johann, intrigued Hayden greatly, despite the fact that they tended to be long-winded.

"Hiccup, m'boy!" Ah, there he was now.

Hayden glanced up from the mezzanine railing against which he had been leaning and snapped from his absent gaze. A light caught his eye and a smile crept onto his face as he glided (more clumsily than elegantly) down the staircase into the main entrance hall. Just past the doorway stood a man in honest clothing with a wide, dark brown beard tied with cloth, carrying a bag filled with who-knew-what. "Trader Johann!"

All formalities that prevented practically everything between a Prince and a commoner were forgotten as Hayden ran into Johann, embracing him tightly. "Any word of the world?"

"Aye, aye," Johann mumbled after dropping his bag haphazardly in an attempt to be prepared for Hayden's hug, "there are many a word, but I come bearing other news."

Hayden collected himself properly and gave Johann an upturned brow. "Is it good news... or bad news?"

"Ah, well," Johann scratched his beard, "it depends on how ya take it. You see, I was travelin' along the vast Sea of Dragons, and had nearly been taken apart by nasty bandits─ far different from pirates, m'boy, as pirates aren't much heard of─ and I narrowly escaped 'em by─"

"Johann!" Hayden glared. He may love the trader's stories, but if there was other news, he'd have to know that first.

"Ah, right, right," Johann shook his head, "well, I caught wind of the King. I was able to board his ship on the returning voyage and sent me with some loot─ I mean─ treasures. It seems his raid has been successful. I left the boat for a faster clipper sailin' by. He'll be home by tomorrow, should there be fair winds. An' he seems rather pleased with himself. I'd say you might even get to leave the palace after this one."

Hayden blew air out his nose in contempt. His father's revenge was done with, so there was that, but now the King had more leverage against Hiccup's affinity for peace. "Yeah, like my father would ever let that happen."

Johann frowned. He had known the Prince for many years and─ though it was interspersed through his travels─ he knew when something was wrong with the young boy. But he also knew just what would cheer him up. "I've got wares you can choose from this time, Hayden. An' your father won't be any the wiser!" Johann winked.

Hayden's toothy grin widened at the prospect of finding more sea treasures to keep in his room. Last time Johann had come through, Hayden had picked out various trinkets─ shells, compasses, spyglasses (all broken) ─ and used them as the subjects for his sketches. Yet another thing his father was semi proud of but also disappointed in─ what was a Prince to do with well-mastered sketches? There was no need to sell them for money when he was the Prince of a bourgeoisie kingdom. This time, however, Johann had pieces that weren't broken. When trying to pay the trader for his goods and service, Johann refused. They're all yours, m'boy. As thanks, Hayden offered Johann a suite in the palace, something which the simple tradesman would never refuse, and fetched some servants to prepare his space. Then the Prince retired to his own chambers to sift through his new additions.

A working silver compass and chain, an empty parchment sea scroll, a thick sword with the hilt of some sort of lizard─ be careful, it burns to the touch, Johann had warned, although Hayden could not detect the danger when he held it─ and a book of dragons written in Esyrani script (a language he had been studying behind his father's back, to boot).

On the evening of the next day, Hayden received his father, the King, at the entrance hall. Many Berkian dignitaries had dressed elegantly for the occasion, and the Prince was no different. He wore the fanciest green-sleeved shirt he had with a scarf of white frills protruding from the opening in his collar and a brown double-breasted waistcoat. His boots were of the finest brown leather on the Peninsula and his cloak was made from a fine brown fur. In his rush to get ready at the last minute (he had been drawing without looking at the time), Hayden had forgotten to comb his hair and the result was a wind-tousled mess that swept over his green eyes. Hopefully his father wouldn't notice.

The large double doors that spanned the entire length from floor to high ceiling opened and a giant man almost seven feet tall stomped proudly into the room. He had a wild red beard that flowed like lava from his chin down to his belted waist─ and his personality was much the same. As the King made his way down the corridor, the servants that lined the walkway bowed before him in respect. But the King paid them little attention as his eyes were on his son. But the look on his face was jovial as he unceremoniously brought the Prince into a tight bear hug lasting far longer than ever acceptable.

Hayden, his arms strapped painfully to his sides in the embrace, tapped his father's side with a finger. "Dad," he whispered so that the others couldn't hear, "dad─ okay, I missed you, too─ uh, I think you should return to being 'King' again."

The King straightened his royal garb and his son's autonomously, clearing his throat. "I have a gift for you, son," the man smiled brightly before turning to the hall still filled with many onlookers. "I, King Stoick the Vast of Central Berk and the Berkian Peninsula, have wreaked havoc against the Esyrani, the killers of my fair Queen! The Esyrani King and Queen have fled their great city of Anoi and have nothing but regret to haunt them!" His voice bellowed throughout the great hall and many were clapping and cheering─ Hayden doubted any of them understood the amount of death in that statement. Well, he hardly knew how much death that statement implied, but he knew better than to dwell on that fact.

"And for my son's part, I've given him his own say in avenging his mother's death!" The King continued, invigorated for the coming act.

Hayden's heart plummeted at the words. What had his father planned for him to do now? In front of all these people? Surely the words "avenge" and "death" were not the most pleasant-sounding.

"General Pitchiner, bring in the captives!" The King commanded at the end of his speech, which Hayden hadn't been listening to.

The Prince's eyes were brought forward, thanks to his father forcing his chin to look a particular way, and what he was about to see shattered any preconception he'd had about the Esyrani. Pitchiner, the King's right hand man and advisor to the royal throne for many years, was tall and thin─ built more for his brain than for his brawn, similarly to Hayden─ with golden eyes and excellently groomed black hair. He bowed to the King with a look on his face that Hayden couldn't quite place as he turned to grab a set of chains just outside the doors. The general brought in three dark skinned people, both wrists bound by rope and ankles shackled by iron, and all their faces downcast. The first two brought in were male and female. They were of extraordinary height and had dark brunet hair with dark eyes. Their ribs were showing─ seeing as Esyrani clothing was rarely considered modest─ but they were not lacking muscles, either. Neither looked at each other nor at anyone else, but not out of fear. Out of spite more so than anything else. Hayden narrowed his eyes and a twitch of his lip was all that showed he was displeased. He knew his father meant well. But what did he intend Hayden to do with captured Esyrani?

"Son," Hayden's head whipped to face his father. Then the Prince realized that he was holding out a ceremonial sword to his son, the hilt decorated with impossibly expensive gemstones. Hayden paled as the reality registered in his mind. "You will choose a proper vengeance on those who killed your mother. I've brought them to you; you choose one."

He wants me to kill an innocent?! Hayden took the sword in shaky hands, the weight of the sword nearly dropping his entire body, completely alien from the practice swords he would use with his dueling tutors. This was a terrible test. When he was able to compose himself again, his eyes locked onto the third captive.

This captive's eyes were Hayden's eyes. Bright, forested greens that took in every inch of sunlight and reflected it back out into the world without restriction. But where Hayden's were cautious and curious and scared, this boy's were strong, daring, and fearless. The boy seemed to be taller than Hayden, but not by much, and he certainly wasn't nearly as tall as the other two captives. He also wasn't nearly as skinny. This boy had muscles that surpassed his age─ whatever that was─ and his chest heaved as if he had just recently picked a fight. His hair was the deepest raven black that rivaled General Pitchiner's, tied back in an impossibly long and messy braid. His pants were slightly darker than his skin and he wore black boots made out of material that Hayden had never seen before. The boy wore a long leather necklace with a tooth that belonged to some large, unknown creature knotted into it. Without any precursor, Hayden carefully marched down the steps where he'd stood with the King and made his way toward the boy, not paying mind to anyone else in the room. As he got closer to him, the Esyrani boy backed up and bared his teeth.

"Ehmr morfi ywaategh," the boy hissed under his breath. He was about to back up further when he received a slap from Pitchiner and an order to keep silent. But Hayden doubted that the boy understood Common Tongue. It was a good thing that he'd gotten very interested in the Esyrani language some time ago. Get away from me, Hayden translated in his head roughly.

"Uoyi truhi... thonr lai," Hayden muttered sloppily in the foreign tongue. I mean you no harm... or at least he hoped that was what he was saying. He reached out for the boy's wrists when they were yanked back.

Hayden looked up and the startled look on the darker boy's face signified that Hayden's translation was probably correct. "Wohiknr?!" the boy gasped in alarm. You understand?!

More or less, Hayden bit his lip in concentration. What was he supposed to do? All eyes were on him and they all expected him to execute the boy purely for show. Hayden palmed the sword, tapping his fingers against the hilt and thinking a thousand leagues a minute. When a half-thought-through idea entered his mind, he figured it was his best shot. "Sei, sei, uh..." Hayden placed the awkwardly gigantic sword between the boy's tied palms and started cutting upward through the ropes, accidentally cutting his own finger when the first rope snapped, "uh... Ehmr raebu tsuji." Hayden prayed to every god out there that he had asked the boy to go along with the charade. But he also could have said something about bears. Oh well.

The boy raised a black eyebrow and winced as the sword finished slicing through the ropes and a small piece of his palm, causing it to bleed. He looked down and gasped something that Hayden didn't catch. The boy's wrists were free. The visitors and servants who could see this close perspective erupted into baffled clamor. Hayden knew he had to act fast.

Spinning in front of the boy and holding his open palm to the crowds, the hall was silenced and the King─ who had begun angrily advancing─ stopped in his tracks. Hayden cleared his throat and mustered his best public speaking voice, which was still leaving something to be desired. "I, Prince Hayden Horrendous Haddock III, Heir to Central Berk and the Berkian Peninsula, have proclaimed my vengeance! Er, this boy─ though a killer of my beloved mother─" Hayden hated and disagreed wholeheartedly with that statement, but he grit his teeth and continued, "─ shall be my personal servant for the rest of his days, and my sons' servant after my death, should he outlive myself." It was harsh, but he knew that the boy wouldn't understand and for now it was the best Hayden could manage. Perhaps he'd find a way around this predicament at a later date. For then, it would have to do.

"Release him," Hayden ordered General Pitchiner without looking in his direction. Out of the corner of his eye, the Prince saw a sneer settle onto the General's face for a split second before putting on a fake smile and complying. Hayden had always had suspicions about the royal advisor, but he'd never been given enough evidence to mention anything to his father. Nevertheless, the General released the shackles on the boy. Everyone inched back, believing that the boy would run away, but he merely walked around to face Hayden, green eye to green eye. The stare held for a few moments before the darker boy nodded slightly and returned to where he had been standing behind the Prince.

"And what would you like me to do with the others, your Highness?" Pitchiner spoke just loud enough for the King, a few feet away, to hear.

Hayden bit his lip again and continued. "I would like them to be released as well. They can be regular servants on the grounds. Let the Groundskeeper be in charge of them from there."

"Gobber!" The King took the initiative and signaled the Groundskeeper over to them. A stocky man nearly the King's height with a blond moustache ambled up to them, a wooden prosthetic clacking on the ground every other step. At the King's command, Gobber took the other two released captives and escorted them down the hall toward the inner gardens and servants' quarters. Hayden and the King both knew that, despite the man's size, Gobber was a kind soul and would treat them as they should be treated. Although Hayden was happier about that than the King, he would not say so in front of so many. Hayden bet that he was going to get reprimanded later that night, but he would hold his tongue until then.

When all was squared away, Hayden turned around to face his new servant and whispered so that nobody would hear that he could speak the language forbidden in Berk. "Uh... uoyis emahnr tahwi?" The Prince had asked the boy his name.

The boy stared guarded at the Prince. Something danced in his eyes for an instant and he glanced away when he answered. "Tyran. Emahnr ohot?"

"Hayden," the Prince stated simply in his normal accent. "Your name is Tyran?"

Tyran nodded slowly then said something unintelligible. Hayden shrugged his shoulders as an answer and motioned for the boy to follow him. He had walked a few paces before he realized that the Esyrani hadn't moved his feet. He'd moved his hand. It was held up in front of him, palm toward Hayden, with his fingers straight but relaxed. At first, Hayden's understanding was that Tyran was telling him to stop, but then he remembered from his forbidden studies that this was some sort of welcoming tradition... or a sacrificing ritual. It was a little puzzling as Tyran was the guest of sorts and not the host, but Hayden though the boy had figured this was most appropriate. Or Hayden was reading the situation entirely wrong.

Hayden approached the boy again, seeing accurately now that Tyran was in fact a whole head taller than he was, and brought out his right hand toward him. Tyran snaked his hand away and bared his teeth as if on some instinct, and Hayden stopped his advance. The Prince held out his hand like Tyran had first done, and Tyran eyed it curiously. Tyran did the motion again, holding his hand still in front of him and not moving it. Hayden's hand moved closer again and Tyran hissed but didn't move his hand. Hayden turned away and winced, expecting an attack, but instead Tyran's hiss stopped. The Prince's eyes eased open and looked toward the boy, earning another hiss. Hayden glanced away and let out a long breath. Let's try this, he hoped as he eased his hand outward, not entirely sure if he was anywhere close to the Esyrani's hand as he was trying not to look. His hand was extended as far as it would go and he still felt nothing. Great, he backed away, he'll probably never trust─

A warm palm matched his and Hayden slowly eased the tension in his posture as his eyes lay on the boy before him. Tyran was standing as he had been, his hand against Hayden's, and he was looking at the Prince in an earnest, unwavering gaze. Hayden could feel the boy's pulse in his palm and fingers, beating against his. The Prince met his gaze and for a moment everything was still. In that moment, Hayden understood Tyran and the boy understood him. Then the blood from their cut hands seared and something clicked and there was a burning sensation that seemed to weld their hands together that spread throughout Hayden's body, setting his mind on fire. But as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone and Tyran had been ordered by some servant off to the side to follow. Tyran, understanding the term "follow" from Hayden's previous attempt, did so, leaving the Prince alone in the entrance hall.

See you later, Hayden, a voice called out in his head.

Translation Notes:

It is not called the "Esyrani mainland" due to the fact that the Esyrani language implies that the land is of the land, not of the people; anything of the people is Esyrani, while anything of the land is Esyran.

All the words in Esyrani will be translated or at the very least made sense of in the story, so no direct translation will be made unless it is an important term. The language will not be used often past the beginning.

A/N: Woo! First Chapter! Yay!

I'll be moving back into my dorm room tomorrow, so this chapter should suffice until I've settled in for a day or two.

Remember that the map to my AU can be found on my DeviantArt page!

Please do enjoy! :)