Valka followed her son carefully through the woods, leaping from tree limb to tree limb so silent and quick it was as though Valka did not leap, but rather flew from limb to limb. She had spent much of her life leaping from one dragon to the next whilst they flew, tree branches was something she could handle easily. She leapt from one branch to another without a sound, not even the leaves shook as she moved.
Her son wandered the forest for hours, nose tucked into a small leather book and too focused on searching for the dragon he had supposedly shot down. Valka had heard his annoyed mumbles turn into frustrated screams by the time the sun had reached its climax. He was too focused on finding any sign of dragon on the ground that he never thought to actually look up and realize that someone had been following him like a silent shadow – or rather ghost- since he had left the house.
She could see from her vantage point the scowl on her son's face, how his nose scrunched up and his lips curling as though he smelled something foul. Her son had begun to run out of patience; though Valka had to commend her boy as any other Viking would have given up long before Hiccup. Vikings were impatient and blunt; patience wasn't in their limited vocabulary. But yet here Hiccup was after several fruitless hours of scouring the forest.
Her son had wandered the woods, tripping on practically everything in a less than graceful way that only helped emphasis the awkward stage that he was going through, where he was no longer a boy but wasn't yet a man. He was still growing, though slower than his age mates, and with his gangly limbs he moved as though he lacked balance.
Valka suddenly paused from her leaping, perched against a pine whose thick needles hid her from her son's view. She saw a destroyed tree that looked as though it had been ripped apart. Or something crashed into it, Valka realized with a frown. Her son had been mumbling to himself about trying to find the Night Fury he had shot down and Valka had been silently praying to Odin that her son was mistaken. She couldn't bare the thought of her son killing a dragon.
She could see a thick rut ahead of her, though Hiccup couldn't see it from his position on the ground. And beyond that, something large and dark was at the center of a small crater. She knew that it was the Night Fury, for what else could it be?
"Oh, the gods hate me. Some people lose their knife, or their mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an entire dragon!" Hiccup was bemoaning to himself, still unaware that his quarry was literally right in front of him. The boy, in a fit of angry frustration, smacked a protruding branch away from his face, which of course made the branch whip back around and strike him in the eye.
Cursing under his breath, Hiccup glanced at the branch and realized that the entire tree had been ripped in half. He paused in his wandering, alert with a certain edginess as he gazed around at the foliage on the ground, never once did he look above him. He immediately noticed the massive rut that went down a slope. He followed the trail and paused when he saw something huge with black wings right before him. He ducked under a rock in fright, before his curiousness won the internal battle within him and he peeked despite himself. He grabbed the knife from within his fur tunic and held it shakily with both hands.
Valka watched with bated breath as her son slowly stalked towards the downed Night Fury. A Night Fury! She had never seen one before, though she knew of them. He was beautiful, though he was bound in rope.
She saw the knife in her son's clenched hand, a knife that looked too big for her son's small hands, a knife didn't belong in her boy's hands as he walked towards a downed dragon.
She was glad that Cloudjumper wasn't with her, for it would have been impossible to hide in the trees when the Stormcutter was so large, Hiccup would have seen them immediately, so only she watched her son from her perch on a tree, staff in hand, waiting and watching.
If Hiccup attempted to kill the Night Fury, she would pounce on him and knock him out with her staff. The thought of hurting her child tore at her, but the thought of her child killing a dragon hurt even more. Please Hiccup… She silently pleaded to her son, watching him move forward with the knife with wide eyes hidden behind her mask. Please take after me and not your father… Don't be a Viking… Be who you are meant to be.
A low roar brought her back to the present. Hiccup, in a moment of glory, had placed his foot on the Night Fury's side, thinking it dead. Her son fell back against a protruding boulder, knife clenched in his hand as the Night Fury stirred from it's slumber.
Hiccup slowly advanced forward, knife tip pointed towards the bound dragon. He felt fear burn at him, but the thought of returning to the village with the promise of a better life was too enticing for him to run away. He had to kill the Night Fury. He would be the first Viking to ever do so, if he killed it than everything would get better! Right?
The son of Stoick the Vast gazed at the dragon he himself had brought down. The dragon was nothing like the boy had ever seen before. it wasn't like a Gronckle, or a Hideous Zippleback, or even a Monstrous Nightmare. The Night Fury was different from all the other dragons that raided his village, where most were large and riddled with horns, the Night Fury was small with darkened flesh molding into patches of midnight scales.
He stared at though mesmerized. His heart leapt to his throat when he realized that he wasn't the only one. A lone green eye, so detailed it looked as though a fiery green inferno had been unleashed inside, stared at him in an unblinking gaze, it's pupil a mere slit. He stood there, knife in hand ready to strike and didn't know what to do.
I can't back out now, Hiccup thought to himself as he fiddled with the knife nervously. If I don't kill it, I'll never be welcome at Berk. That thought, the thought of his eternal suffering of isolation and ridicule continuing, gave him strength. No more would the villagers look at him as though he was an annoying pest, no longer would his father look at him with that disappointed scowl, no longer would he be ignored and mocked by his age-mates, for he, Hiccup the Useless, would be the first Viking to ever slay a Night Fury.
If he killed this dragon than it would solve everything.
He breathed in heavily, gulping for air as though it would give him the strength to stab the dragon's heart. "I'm going to kill you dragon," he whispered at the downed beast, fire ignited in the human's eyes with a sharp determination to end, not only the dragon's life, but his life as a social outcast. "I'm gonna… I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father…" he held the knife in both hands, held above his head, waiting to be plunged into the Night Fury's heart.
Above him, Valka tensed with her staff held at the ready, ready to stop her son from killing the downed dragon, from making the greatest mistake in his life.
"I'm a Viking…" Hiccup whispered, as though praying. The thought of what that word, Viking, meant made Hiccup falter, for he knew that he was the most unViking Viking to have ever walked Berk. He pushed it aside, bitter resentment already building within him at the previous thought.
"I am a Viking!" Hiccup declared to the world, trying to feel proud and strong, but all he felt was weak and terrified. He clenched his eyes shut, as though to blind himself from what he was about to do, but he couldn't help but peek at the Night Fury. The dragon was staring at him with an unblinking eye, it's pupil a mere slit as it continued to stare at the petrified boy who held the knife high above his head.
The Night Fury groaned out another roar, his lone eye never leaving the shaking form of Hiccup. The supposed Viking looked at the dragon's eye, he didn't see any monstrous fury of being bested by a talking fishbone who couldn't lift a hammer or swing an axe, he didn't see any animalistic emotion that made the dragon a monster.
All he saw was terror.
The Night Fury was terrified, of him. Hiccup looked at the dragon and saw not the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death, but a creature that looked so terrified it reminded the boy of one thing.
Himself.
Hiccup was terrified to plunge the knife into the Night Fury's heart, terrified to take a life, terrified to become what he wasn't, a Viking. But he was also terrified of not being a Viking, something that everyone wanted him to be but he could never achieve no matter how hard he tried. He was terrified of his life of loneliness and ridicule, a life of isolation. All he had ever known was terror, from the very beast that laid there defeated before him to his own people, who hated him with passionate fury.
All his life, Hiccup had been terrified.
And now here was another creature trapped by his ropes like Hiccup was trapped on Berk. Hiccup's ropes trapped the Night Fury whilst the boy himself was trapped by the impossible expectations from his father and his people. The Night Fury was just as trapped as he was.
He couldn't do it.
He wouldn't do it.
He lowered his knife, sickened at the thought of killing this terrified creature lying before him bound in ropes placed by Hiccup himself with his bola launcher.
"I did this," Hiccup said to himself softly with dreadful horror, stepping away from the bound dragon with his knife now pointed away from the dragon. That familiar feel of terror washed over him when he realized that he wasn't and never would be what he should have been, a Viking, along with a powerful wave of sickness at the thought of actually killing the dragon.
He turned away, ready to flee to the safety of his empty home where nobody could continue to hurt him, but the heavy breaths of the Night Fury made him freeze in place, body half turned in the direction of home. He slowly turned around, looking at the bound dragon with horrible guilt.
He couldn't leave the dragon like this, trapped in the woods filled with Vikings who would be more than willing to slit the dragon's throat and rip out it's heart for a trophy. Had anyone else besides Hiccup found the dragon, they would have killed it without a second thought. Yet it was Hiccup who stood before the beast, sickened at the thought of dragon blood being spilt by his own hand, the knife in his hand as useless as the villagers thought him to be.
It shouldn't be too hard to cut, Hiccup thought to himself as he glanced at the rope that was tangled all over the Night Fury's lithe form. Surely that's something I can do… I can let it go, at least than one of us will be free.
Hiccup quickly knelt by the dragon's side and started to furiously saw at the rope, the sharpened knife quickly cut through the rope and Hiccup began to cut away at the ropes that tied the dragon's legs and wings. He finally sliced through the last rope.
And suddenly all Hiccup saw was black as he was pinned to the boulder by a large paw. Gasping in terror, Hiccup looked up to see the deadly eyes of the Night Fury burning into him like dragon fire, he was trapped, paralyzed by it's fiery gaze.
This is it, Hiccup thought to himself as he saw the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death rear back it's head to shoot the puny human with it's plasma bolt. This is how I die…
Would his father mourn him? Maybe. Would the villagers mourn him? Probably not. Nobody in the village liked him; to them he was just a nuisance and a troublemaker. Nobody would miss him and that thought hurt the ostracized boy more than anything. Hiccup could only stare death in the face, mesmerized by the dragon's green eyes that stared into him with such intelligence it unnerved him, to realize that this beast was not truly a beast, but something greater. Hiccup looked at death in the face and found himself relaxing despite the pressure against his throat. Maybe if he died, his father could finally stop being so embarrassed of the village's runt, his runt. The villagers would most likely throw a party to celebrate the fact that he wasn't there anymore to mess up. The thought saddened him, but it didn't hurt as much as it should have. Hiccup looked the dragon in the eye and felt only acceptance of his fate.
Hiccup closed his eyes, waiting for the eternal darkness. Would he see his mother after fifteen years of separation? Was she waiting for him in the entrance of the Halls of Valhalla, waiting to hug and kiss him and shower him with motherly affection that she had once given him when he had been a babe and she was still alive? Hiccup liked to think so. Hiccup waited for death.
But it didn't come.
There was a sudden noise, reminiscent to a rattle shaking. Hiccup opened his eyes. The Night Fury paused as it listened to the noise, relaxing at the sound, it's thin pupils dilating rapidly as it glanced around the forest. The Night Fury released him and Hiccup collapsed to the ground, choking out gasping breaths for much needed air.
When he felt like his lungs weren't about to collapse upon themselves, Hiccup looked up fearfully and blinked at what he saw.
The Night Fury was still there, but the Unholy Offspring of Lighting and Death itself didn't look threatening in the slightest, for the dragon sat on it's hindquarters, eyes fixated on a figure, it's curious and gentle expression reminded the boy of a curious cat.
Wait, what?
Hiccup blinked again, realizing that what he saw wasn't a hallucination from lack of oxygen. There was a person in the clearing with him.
The figure was tall, though nowhere as tall as his father, but slim like Hiccup himself. From the way the figure looked, Hiccup saw that the figure was female. Her choice in outfits made him question her sanity though. The figure was decked in hardened leather armor, each individual piece reminiscent of dragon scales, a ripped carmine cape blew softly at a gentle breeze, her mask terrified him, for it was rather akin to some monstrous dragon with its sharp, protruding spikes and bright paint savagely spread across it in a messy, almost savage smear. In her hand was a painted shield and a wooden staff, both ends curved and had rattles on each end. She was shaking the staff ever so lightly, creating more rattle sounds, the noise made him slightly drowsy.
The Night Fury was watching her, entranced by the sound. It's hackles had lowered, and the dragon looked genuinely calm, mesmerized by the rattling sounds as though it was a gentle lullaby.
The woman looked over at him, still lying on the ground, and though he couldn't see her face due to the creepy mask, Hiccup knew she was staring at him.
"Go."
The voice was deep and rough, as though it hadn't been used in ages and with an odd accent, but the voice was still feminine, proving that Hiccup had been right about his mysterious savior's gender.
Hiccup just stared at her, mouth agape.
Valka wished that at that moment, she could tell her son who she was, but she knew she couldn't, not yet. He didn't kill the Night Fury; he set it free, she thought to herself with her heart threatening to burst with pride.
She had seen him cut the ropes herself, she saw the two make eye contact and somehow she knew that the bond she shared with Cloudjumper was possible with her son and the Night Fury. She didn't know how she knew, but maybe it was because of the way they looked at one another, as though they were the same sides of a coin, the Night Fury might have appeared ready to kill her son with a plasma blast to the face, but Valka knew that her son wasn't in danger, the Night Fury was about to roar at him, frightening him certainly but not killing him.
"Go." She repeated again, gesturing towards the direction of Berk with her staff.
Hiccup continued staring at her.
The Night Fury glanced behind him, cocking a head towards the boy who had shot him down. When Valka had stopped shaking the staff, the relaxation in the dragon's form was gone instantly. The dragon roared at Hiccup, before he spread spread his massive wings and flew off, shrieking as he hit tree after tree in his desperate attempt to fly away.
Hiccup and Valka watched him fly off, the latter realizing with narrowed eyes that something was wrong with the dragon's flight, she would have to find that out later, right now her son was still watching her.
Valka wished that she could just fling off her mask and rush towards her son and envelop in a hug and never let go, but she couldn't. Hiccup didn't know who she was, who she had become, he wouldn't believe her, wouldn't trust her. She needed to gain his trust before she told him, if she told him.
"Uhh…" Hiccup finally remembered to speak, eyes still locked on the mysterious woman who had seemingly controlled a Night Fury with her staff, maybe even saving his life in the process.
Valka swirled her staff around in a wild arc before she slammed the curved staff against the ground, the rattles shaking wildly as the sound echoed throughout the silent forest. "You were never in danger," Valka couldn't help but tell her son, unable to hide the pride in her voice as she looked at Hiccup, who looked terribly confused. Her son hadn't killed the dragon when others, her own husband included, would have killed the gentle creature without hesitation.
"I… uh, what?" Came Hiccup's intelligent reply.
Valka smiled at him, though he couldn't see it. "He wasn't about to hurt you," she gestured towards the direction the Night Fury had fled. "He was to roar, to scare you, not kill you."
Hiccup stared at the mysterious woman whose face was hidden by a savage mask smeared with blue paint, he wanted to ask her who she was, what she had done, but he was paralyzed under her powerful gaze, he could only stare into the woman's mask with disbelief.
There was a sudden beating of wings above them, Hiccup looked up to see the massive form of a Stormcutter hovering above them, it's four wings beating in sync as one. He scrambled backwards, ready to yell to his mysterious savior to run away, but his cry fell on silent lips when he saw the woman raise her staff into the air, completely calm, and watched as the Stormcutter used it's massively, sharp claw to grip the hooked end of the woman's staff.
For a moment, mother and son stared at one another, the latter having no idea of their relationship, and then suddenly she was gone, carried through the air as she leaned against her staff and the Stormcutter calmly flew away towards the mountains.
Hiccup slowly got to his feet and turned around towards the direction of Berk, he took a single step forward but immediately collapsed onto the ground with a pitiful groan.
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Valka sighed as she removed her mask, wiping away stray bits of hair that clung to her forehead. She glanced upwards at the night sky, looking at the shining stars with a ponderous expression. Cloudjumper hobbled towards her, crooning lowly as he butted his massive head against her, the silent question heard.
"I know, Cloudjumper. Believe me I know," Valka whispered to her greatest companion, stroking his blue-tinted chin lovingly, relaxing ever so slightly from his presence. "I shouldn't have shown myself… but I had too…"
Cloudjumper looked down at her, those owlish amber eyes glinting from the firelight, making them burn like miniature suns. He crooned again, soft and guttural.
"I know the Night Fury wouldn't have hurt my boy, but I just reacted. Before I knew it I was on the ground, I had to help him, Cloudjumper. You should have seen him, he looked terrified but…" She trailed off sadly as she remembered what else she had seen besides terror in her son's eyes, eyes that were mirrored like her own. "He was accepting, Cloudjumper. He was accepting death. I couldn't bare the sight." A lone tear dripped from her eye as she wondered what Hels her son had gone through to make him so accepting of death.
Cloudjumper butted her again, placing his head against hers reassuringly. He looked at her mournfully, as though he too felt the pain that was plunged in Valka's heart. Valka latched on to the Stormcutter, arms wrapped around his neck as she struggled to contain herself and her emotions, she clung to him as though he were a lifeline. His familiar scent calmed her ever so slightly, he smelled of smoke, cooked cod, and that odd musky scent that could only be from a dragon, he smelled like home.
"He's like I once was, do you know that?" Valka told him softly as she tenderly stroked his snout, forehead pressed against his scaled shoulder. "All these years he was all alone… an outcast…" She laughed bitterly, "And where was I?"
Cloudjumper pulled his head away from her reach and glanced down at her, silently probing a question, hurt evident in his eyes it made Valka's heart ache for being the cause of it. "No, Cloudjumper, no. I have never regretted staying with you at the Sanctuary, I never missed Berk and her people. I just wished Hiccup had been with me, where he could have been loved." She assured him with a voice tinged with sadness and regret at the last sentence.
Cloudjumper trilled softly, his neck frills spread out.
"I'm sure Stoick loves him, but chief Stoick? No, Hiccup is small and thin, when the heir must be strong. Stoick as a father might love him, but Stoick as the chief never could. Hiccup didn't kill that Night Fury, Cloudjumper, he let him go. No Viking would ever do such a thing. He's different, my boy." Valka said the last part sadly, though still proud.
She was proud of her son, for he had done what no other Viking had done –before her, of course- and that was letting a dragon go instead of killing it. She was so proud of him, proud of who he was. She was saddened however when she realized that whereas she was proud of her son and his actions, if the villagers, and even Stoick, ever found out that Hiccup had set free a Night Fury, an enemy, they would resent him even more.
The Vikings hated difference, abhorred it even. They were close-minded and stubborn at that, as they always had been even when it was herself being the social outcast instead of her son. Whenever she spoke her mind about dragons, that they could be dealt with in a peaceful way that didn't end with an axe in their gut. They had sneered and chuckled as though she were mad. They probably thought she was. They had looked at her with eyes full of loathing and rancor, eyes that had burned into her that not even the heat of dragon fire could ever hope to match it, eyes that haunted her childhood. Those same eyes that were now directed to her son.
Hiccup was different. She knew it the second she saw him, he was small where Vikings was massive, he was smart where Vikings weren't, he didn't kill a dragon when a Viking would have done so in a heartbeat.
Valka had never felt so proud in all her life. Her son hadn't killed a dragon, even when he had the perfect chance for recognition and attention. He could have killed that dragon and his life would have changed, because killing a dragon meant everything to Vikings, and if he had killed the Night Fury he wouldn't have to worry about those haunting eyes anymore. Hiccup had known that, he had known that if he killed that dragon, everything would get better, but yet he had let the dragon go. Even when everything he had learned and grew up in demanded that he kill the Night Fury, Hiccup had ignored it and did what was right.
All these years, he took after me, Valka thought with a smile, unable to stop the glee from showing as she realized that her boy didn't take after his close-minded father, but instead his mother, though he had never truly known her.
"Yeh should have seen him, Cloudjumper. Yeh should have seen my boy," she said as she rubbed the Stormcutter's jaw with deft, light fingers. "He let the Night Fury go, he isn't a dragon killer… I don't think he knows what he is, but I know what he can become… He could be one of us."
Cloudjumper blinked at her words, warbling something out that nobody other than Valka would have understood.
"He doesn't know who he is, my dearest friend. All his life he has been surrounded by Vikings and their bloodthirsty ways, but if he were to meet someone different than them, someone just as different as he himself… we could guide him to a better future." Valka pondered her words, suddenly finding clarity as she imagined a beautiful, and maybe even possible, future.
A future where her son was at his mother's side, where he rightfully belonged. With a dragon of his own to love and cherish just like she loved Cloudjumper, her greatest friend.
She wanted that future so badly her whole soul seemed to ache in yearning. She wanted to be in her son's life, she wanted to be there for him. She wanted to be there to hold him when he cried, to whisper reassurances when he felt down, to kiss his temple and comb his shaggy, auburn hair. She wanted to be a mother again.
The only problem Valka saw was how her son would react when he learned who she truly was. Would he hate her for leaving him alone for all those years? Would he reject her? The thought of her own son hating her made tears form in the corners of her eyes. When she was still on Berk Valka had faced rejection on a daily basis by the majority of Berk, only Stoick, Gobber and Gothi the Elder had ever been truly kind to her. She had become so used to their rejection that it soon didn't hurt anymore, though those burning eyes still haunted her. Rejection had never bothered her after so many years of facing and having to deal with it on a daily basis. But if her son was to reject his mother? The thought terrified her.
Cloudjumper purred as he wrapped one of his secondary wings around his rider, enveloping her shivering form like a warm blanket. She felt the fears and insecurities that plagued her cease to exist under the presence of her friend. She placed her forehead against his chest, listening to the strong heartbeat that had always lulled her into a sense of safety. He was her greatest friend, they were two souls brought together to form into one.
Hiccup needed guidance, he needed a helping hand to show him the right path. Hiccup needed someone willing to listen to him and his troubles, someone willing to help him. Her son needed his mother. Because who else could help her son go through what she herself had gone through? That terrible feeling of loneliness… it was almost unbearable, if not for Stoick and his love Valka might have very well gone insane from all the heated glares and hateful whispers. Valka had had Stoick when she had been the receiver of those terrible glares, but Hiccup had no one.
Well that is about to change, Valka thought to herself with determination, maternal fury seeping through her body in terrifying waves. No one is ever going to hurt my baby boy again, not while I have something to say about it. Hiccup doesn't need those villagers who are too stuck in their barbaric, stubbornness ways. All he needs is his mother.
The last thought made her anger and fury slowly fade as dread sank it's claws into her heart. The fear of rejection had returned with greater strength. Would Hiccup even wish to know her when he realized who she was, or would he leave her just as she had left him for fifteen years? The thought was unbearable. Valka couldn't tell him the truth the next time she saw him, because she knew that he would reject her before she could have a say. Hiccup wouldn't understand why she had stayed away all these years until now. He wouldn't understand who she truly was, what she had become. But she was determined to try to help him understand, if only to regain a chance to be with her child.
"What am I to do, my friend?" She asked the Stormcutter. "How can I help my son without him knowing who I truly am?"
Cloudjumper blinked at her, his message heard despite the silence and Valka's heart sank.
He didn't know either.
"I guess we'll have to wait and see," Valka relented softly. "He's curious, far too curious for his own good." She smiled at that, for he had gotten that from her. "He'll be back, I know he will. He'll come back to the woods, for either myself or the Night Fury."
Hiccup would return, she knew it deep in her soul. Her son had seen the possibility of a whole way of life when she had 'saved' him from the Night Fury. He, who had been born and raised in such a violent village, saw for the first time a dragon and human together, coexisting peacefully instead of locked in mortal combat. He would realize that there were different ways of life outside of the one that abhorred him. He didn't know that he was destined for great things, he didn't know what plans his mother had for him.
Hiccup could never be a Viking and Valka knew that Hiccup knew that himself, because when he had lowered that knife away from the Night Fury's heart, he had forgone Viking tradition at it's very core. Seeing how isolated he was from the other villagers in Berk, it wouldn't be hard for Valka to sway her son into seeing thing reasonably.
Hiccup wouldn't become a Viking, not while his mother was around. Valka would show him a new way of life and thinking, she would shower her son with all the love and adoration she could muster within her, something that Hiccup had sorely been lacking in his life. She would gain his trust and when the time was right, reveal herself as his mother come back for the boy she had left in that cradle fifteen years ago. Hiccup wouldn't become a Viking.
He would become a dragon rider.
I decided I would update this story a little bit earlier than I planned, mostly because I already have several chapters written down for this. I'm curious to see how you guys like Valka and Hiccup; I'm still a bit rusty with writing these characters but hopefully I've tried to make them as realistic as possible. Some of you might be upset that I won't have Hiccup know right away that the woman in the mask is his mother, he will find out but not for a long time. The reason I did this is because I can see this as the most realistic and logical choice for Valka who is afraid that her son will reject her if he found out right away. The way I'm heading is that Valka will slowly gain Hiccup's trust before finally revealing to him that she is his mother.
What do you think about Hiccup? Hiccup's life as a social outcast will play a huge role in this story as you will see in later chapters. This will play an important role with Valka as she will be the first and only person who actually cares about him, though Hiccup won't know who she really is. This will make him much more willing to trust her. I would say more, but it might spoil some things so you'll have to read future chapters for me.
Please leave a review, they are the lifeblood of this story!
