A/N: I'm having so much fun mixing various events. Also, it should be very obvious when this story takes place by the end of the chapter...
Heretic
The sun had risen high into the sky, nearly reaching its zenith, and Hiccup had still not found that godsforsaken dragon.
He glanced down at the crude map he had drawn in his sketchbook, complete with his path taken and every section he had looked. Nope, no dragon.
"For the love of Halone, why me?!" he groaned, throwing his arms up into the air as he slammed the sketchbook shut. "The Twelve hate me. Some people lose their knife, or mug, or their helm. Me? Oh no, not me, I manage to lose an entire dragon!"
He batted angrily at a stray branch only for it to swing back and smack him in the face.
"Gah!"
Oh they hate me.
With a scowl, he stuffed the sketchbook into his belt. He was starting to wonder if this was worth all the trouble.
A sleep cut short, a first battle, a first dragon. Now he was out in the wilderness chasing after a downed Night Fury that might or might not have escaped by now. He was still covered in grime, ash, and blood (eugh!) from the battle. And to top it all off, he was sleep deprived.
For a moment, his thoughts wandered back to the strange dream he'd had right before being pulled to awakening. It was incredibly clear, all of it, from the starshower to that sense of light. But the voice… that song, and those words… why did they stay with him?
Hear… feel… think… what is that even supposed to mean? And that song…
In a rush of inspiration, he grabbed his sketchbook back out, retrieved his charcoal piece, and began writing down the words.
Look to those who walked before to lead those who walk after…
He had heard of strange, mystical happenings before. The land of Eorzea was mired in it thanks to its natural abundance of aether, from the elementals of the Black Shroud to the shades of the Thanalan Desert. Strange dreams were no exception, though it was the song that struck him most.
Female singer. Not one of the Dravanians? By Halone's grace, there'd be problems if this was Nidhogg. He couldn't be this anyway, right? I don't think? Hmm… 'Thy life is a riddle to bear rapture and sorrow…'
He didn't even know how he could remember all the words to this song in the first place. Hours later, and he could still hear it ringing in his head. Maybe this was divine inspiration and he had been meant to live this life as a bard. Who knew.
'Thou must live, die, and know.'
Done.
What a strange song…
Hiccup sighed and shut the sketchbook shut again. Maybe he could see if the chapel library had any clues. He really, truly, sincerely hoped that this had nothing to do with Nidhogg's horde… he liked to think that his mind was his own.
The short respite had given him a moment to clear his mind of thoughts regarding the dragon. Now that he'd had time to breathe, a wave of exhaustion suddenly swept over him.
He sat himself down hard in the grass, staring dejectedly at his feet. He didn't even know what he was doing. He was cold, miserable, and tired, and all this for a dragon he'd shot down the night before, all because he had to do this and prove to himself, and to his village…
No, he'd already proven it to the village. He was doing this for himself.
There was that lurching, sick feeling in his stomach again. He mashed it down.
Do I even need to do this? No… yes… yes I do. Yes I do. I am of Berk. I am of Ishgard. We slay dragons. This is my job, my duty…
His train of thought faltered as one of the trees in the distance caught his attention.
Specifically, the splintered, broken half of it.
Hiccup pulled himself back to his feet and cautiously approached. He eyed the trunk and the smashed branches, noting that it looked as though something very large had crashed into it from the sky. Then, judging from the large indented trail in the ground… said object had bounced and slid down the hill.
He dropped down into a crouch as he lowered himself next to the tree. His boots squelched softly in the fresh mud; the track was new, the snapped tree looked recent...
Trying to remain silent, he crept down the hill. Something in his chest tightened. He pulled the spear off his back in response… just in case.
It took a moment to reach the bottom without slipping. There was a large rock just at the foot of the hill, and he very carefully climbed on top, gripping his spear, because while he couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary, there was always a chance that something might be lurking just out of sight –
Like that black winged body right there.
Hiccup yelped and ducked back down. He immediately tumbled off the rock.
"Yow!"
So much for a stealthy entrance.
Feeling extremely stupid now, he crouched there, spear in hand and ready to stab with it if he had to. He attempted to control his breathing as his heart pounded in his chest, sending blood ringing through his ears, because he was in danger of attack just like last night…
He listened.
Nothing.
He carefully poked his head out from behind the rock.
It hadn't moved.
Hiccup crept around the rock, still gripping his spear. But it the realization was beginning to settle. The black dragon before him was wrapped in the ropes of the bola, all four legs bound tightly to its body. He could see several frozen marks on its wings and tail where the ice must have exploded onto; even now they hadn't fully melted. The dragon itself had its head and neck splayed out, unmoving, bare and vulnerable for the taking.
He stepped forward towards it. Something was filling him – relief, perhaps? Relief. Just pure relief.
"I did it," he exclaimed, half unable to believe it. "I really did it! A Night Fury!" This is way better than using a spear. And it's a Night Fury!
He laughed and whooped raising his spear up to the sky. "I've done it! I have brought down this mighty beast - "
The dragon suddenly inhaled very deeply. Hiccup yelped and fell backwards.
"Okay so it's not dead it's not dead…"
He brought his spear straight back into a ready stance again. Just in case it tried to bite his arm off.
It took another couple heaving breaths, its chest expanding greatly. Hiccup gazed at it, trying to figure out how he could have missed its breathing, when he heard the voice.
"You…"
It came from the dragon. He jolted at the sound and stared.
Its eyes were open.
The Night Fury stared back, one large green eye with a slit pupil watching him. Its breathing quickened.
"It… was you…"
This dragon's voice was less guttural, lighter, and smoother than the aevis' had been. It was also much weaker and not filled with death threats.
Hiccup's eyes narrowed. That feeling was in him again, tensed chest and churning stomach. But this was a dragon.
"Yeah, it was me," he replied in a low voice. He held his spear before him. "I shot you down."
The dragon inhaled sharply. It didn't reply.
Hiccup tried to breathe, even though it felt like he had forgotten how. He was barely aware of his arms shaking as he pointed his spear at the dragon's neck. He had no idea why he felt so nervous and frightened… not when this dragon lay helpless before him, and he had already slain one of its kind. Something was clenching up inside him.
The Night Fury was still watching him, barely moving but for its chest. It lifted its head slightly and sniffed. It immediately winced, glancing back up at him.
Hiccup remembered that he was still covered in grime from the previous night's battle… which included remnants from that fight with the aevis.
"Yeah, that's right, I've killed one of your kind," he growled back. "And you're next, Dravanian."
It didn't respond to him. It only continued to watch.
Hiccup took a deep breath. He needed to calm himself. This dragon right in front of him had been the focus of everything – the Bola Bertha, everything after, everything since. That aevis was the first. This Night Fury would be the second. There would be many more dragons to come.
"I'm going to kill you dragon, cut out your heart, and take it to my father," he stated, steeling himself. His arms refused to stop shaking regardless. "Because I'm of Ishgard. I'm of Berk! You hear me?!"
The dragon finally released a low, mournful cry and closed its eyes. It dropped its head to the ground, its chest moving faster with more shallow inhales, as though resigned to its fate.
And… terrified.
Hiccup had his spear raised, ready to thrust forward and end the dragon's life. He knew the basic movement. He'd done it many times the night before. Just one thrust, and this would be over.
But he couldn't move.
He couldn't do it.
He remembered the feel of his spear in the belly of a dragon. He knew the pain of having the beast attack and nearly bite his arm off. He recalled the fear of seeing one dive at his father.
He had killed that dragon. Why couldn't he kill this one? He didn't understand.
Everything about it felt wrong.
The spear dropped from his hands and clattered to the ground. Quietly, he sunk to his knees, staring at the downed dragon before him.
I don't want to do this. I can't do this. This isn't… how I wanted it…
He looked over the dragon. The bola, the ropes digging into its skin, the frozen streaks across its scales. The entire beast, captured and brought down, lying there before him.
He felt sick.
"I did this."
He just stared. He wanted to leave. He didn't want anything to do with dragons anymore. This, this horror in front of him, had been his fault. He had wanted to kill a Night Fury so badly… now that he had slain a dragon, he didn't even know why anymore.
They're Dravanians! They raid, kill, slaughter us, have been for generations! This is a Night Fury, it always goes after the buildings and the cannons and the towers – it never directly tries to kill anyone.
What have I done…
The guilt poured into him, leaving him gasping at the pain that shot through his chest. He couldn't do this… he couldn't kill it.
He had to fix his mistake.
Before he quite knew what he was doing, he had pulled out his knife and was sawing through the ropes.
They snapped and loosened. Each one was a distinct reminder that he was releasing this dragon, and that if it didn't kill him then he would be living with treason on his hands, because he was ignoring everything the Church taught and said about dragons, but something inside didn't care and just wanted to make this right –
The Night Fury sprung free and pounced on him.
Hiccup found himself flat on his back, with two black dragon paws on his chest and both his knife and spear knocked away out of reach. He gasped as its weight pushed him into the ground, while two luminous, rage-filled green eyes glared from above.
He struggled briefly, trying to push its paws off and release the pressure from his chest, but the black snout drew closer to his head. The dragon snarled, teeth slightly bared as a growl rumbled from its throat.
This was it. He'd angered the dragon, threatened it with death, and proceeded to release it. He was about to die.
I probably deserve it after all this.
The dragon drew its head back, opening its mouth. Hiccup couldn't move, couldn't escape, so he cringed away as far as he was able, expecting the inevitable. I'm so sorry this was stupid oh gods oh Twelve Halone have mercy Dad –
It lifted its paws, stomped them heavily into the ground beside him, and roared into his face.
Then it bounded off, spreading its wings and gliding out of sight.
Hiccup dizzily pulled himself up, faintly aware that his lungs were still working and that he could in fact breathe. His heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest, and his entire body was stunned, but somehow… he was alive. It hadn't killed him.
The dragon screeched again in the distance, accompanied by the sound of something breaking and a large boom. Hiccup somehow managed to pick up his knife and spear, and in a daze he slowly turned around.
Then he gave up and dropped both as he collapsed to the ground in shock.
He sat there with his face in the dirt and stared at his hand.
He'd just committed treason.
If anyone ever found out, he'd be labeled a heretic.
This couldn't end well.
It had to have bewitched him. The Dravanians did that. It was the only explanation for why he hadn't been able to kill that dragon.
You don't touch them, you don't look them in the eye, you don't even speak or listen to them, because that's how they catch you, that's how they bewitch you, it's what the Archbishop and all the teachings say, you were bewitched when that aevis bit you last night, that has to be why you could understand it, that must be why –
Oh Halone, oh Twelve, I'm a heretic. I'm a heretic. We burn heretics! The Inquisitors put them to the stake, or the axe, or cliff, just by Halone's Fury the trial, oh gods I'm a heretic, this is so messed up!
Hiccup had no idea how he had managed to make it back to Berk. Once he'd gathered his wits about him, he had stumbled along aimlessly in utter dazed horror of what he had done.
Now of course, he was trudging down the streets of his home village, slowly approaching his house. In the dark for that matter, as it had taken that long for him to meander his way through the woods.
He sincerely hoped that his father was still out dealing with the post-battle details. He had passed plenty of destroyed buildings and broken walls on the way in, which could only mean more work for the Chief to deal with. It would save him questions about why he'd been gone all day and was still wearing his armor.
With a numb hand, he pushed open the door.
Oh look. There's my Dad.
"Hiccup," Stoick greeted, waving a half-cooked fish at him. The hearth had been stoked, and a kettle of something was bubbling over the fire. "I was wonderin' when you'd reappear."
Hiccup grimaced and tenderly crossed over the threshold. "Hey… Dad…"
He made an extra effort to turn around and close the door behind him, focusing on ensuring it was properly set.
"You've been out since the battle?"
His father sounded… stoic. Hiccup couldn't read it.
He turned back around, laughing weakly. "Um… uh… maybe. You know, just… out there…"
"Looking for your downed dragon, I wager," Stoick replied flatly. He seemed a bit exasperated, though resigned. "And what of it?"
Hiccup grimaced. "I, uh… it escaped," he answered, not meeting his father's eyes. "Ropes were broken. Or maybe something found it and carried it off. It was gone by the time I found it, anyway."
More like it was gone after I found it…
"Hmm."
Stoick was looking at him rather intently now. Hiccup thought back to that earlier moment with the dragon.
"Dad, I need to talk to you," he stated.
His father nodded. "Good, because I need to speak with you too."
"Oh, okay. Uh, you go first."
Stoick rubbed his hands together and sighed.
"Dragoon training," he began. "You're starting tomorrow morning. You'll want good rest, and be sure to eat a light breakfast. Yeh start out on basics and learnin' the Jump. So wear your leather armor for it. Yeh might get a few observers, word's already spread that you killed yer first dragon last night."
Hiccup blanched. He had entirely forgotten that he was starting dragoon training.
"Oh, uh, ha… about that," he cringed, trying to figure out how to get through this one. "I was, uh, thinking, you know… after last night and all, I'm really not sure that spearing dragons is for me, ya know? It, ah, it's weird. Maybe I could go back over to the engineering side and make cannons and things," he mimed holding a cannon starter in his hand, "Or you know, people always say my aether control's decent, I've always wanted to try out the arcane magics, you know those carbuncles - "
Stoick suddenly burst out laughing.
Hiccup stared. "Uh, Dad?"
"You have cold feet over starting dragoon training!" he guffawed. "Oh Halone I shouldn'ta told yeh about the observers. It's fine, son. It's the basics, no one expects you to do a perfect Jump on your first day!"
"I – that's not it, Dad - "
How in the Seven Hells was he supposed to explain that he couldn't do this anymore? That spearing a dragon was sickening and he never wanted to experience that sensation ever again, and that he had probably been slightly bewitched in the first place – except he couldn't say that, because then everyone would know he was a heretic.
Why do the gods hate me so?!
He took a breath and braced himself against the wall. "Dad, that's not what I'm saying! I can't do this, I can't kill dragons!"
Stoick snorted. "But you already have!" he exclaimed. "The first one's always rough, but it only gets better, don't worry. You're just nervous! Don't you worry, everyone is, it doesn't matter what happened before!"
"Wait, but Dad – ugh…"
He wished that his father hadn't brought up killing that aevis during the attack. He wanted to forget the entire thing even happened.
There wasn't anywhere to escape to, not with all of Stoick's attention on him. He curled away, willing himself to melt into the house woodwork and disappear from his father's gaze, but the man stood with a jaunty bounce and sturdily placed both hands on his son's shoulders.
"Come on, Hiccup," Stoick chuckled, giving him an encouraging squeeze. It made him tense up more. "Just cold feet. I mean, just look at you! Remember how I didn't even want yeh going' into lancer training? How much you argued back then to be allowed in, and eventually it took Gobber to convince me? And look at you now! Full-fledged lancer, ready for dragoon training, and yeh killed a dragon in your first battle!"
"But I had help," he objected. "You took it off me, and those two lancers took care of most of it, I just got the finishing blow."
Stoick looked at him evenly. "Only the dragoons can kill dragons by themselves. Weaker ones at that. We all do it as a team, son. And that was pretty much all you by the end. Bertholdt and Steiner were too shocked to help once they'd been thrown back, but you just dived right in. One o' the lessons of lancer training – courage! Don't talk down yer own achievement, son, yeh did it! You've got promise! Halone's Fury, you can't give up now after everything, can you?"
"I – well, no, I…"
It was true… all of that effort, all for the dream of becoming a dragoon. It felt strange to push it aside after everything. There had never been high hopes for the wayward runt son of Stoick the Vast, who was clever with hands, but whom they said would never amount to anything in combat.
Passing lancer training had been the first step in proving them wrong. Becoming a dragoon would challenge everything completely…
But I already killed a dragon. Now I have people's attention and… respect even? It's what I wanted, but…
The Night Fury. I couldn't kill it. Everyone expects me to kill dragons now. I don't want…
Stoick clapped Hiccup on the back, nearly pushing him over. "Right, then. No giving up. It ain't the Berkian way, eh?" he nodded. "Now go wash up and get some rest, Hiccup. And eat something! You need the energy!"
He breathed, rubbing his shoulders. There was no way he could argue with his father or tell him the real reason for his hesitation. "Y-yeah. That's all I need. I'll just… grab some food and get an early night's sleep then? Since, you know, I've been out since last night's battle - "
Stoick promptly picked up his son, sat him down on a stool, and proceeded shove cheese and fish into his lap before he could protest.
It ended up being a very awkward dinner. Stoick tried to feed Hiccup half of the house's stores before the poor boy had to nearly shout him down. It was clear that his father was proud about everything – passing lancer training, the aevis from the night before, and the upcoming dragoon training – and he continued to regale Hiccup with tales of his dragoon days and tips for taking down dragons. Hiccup had to nod and pretend to chew extra food just to give himself a reason not to answer.
"Oh yes – something you need to know Hiccup… several of our scouts have found what looks to be a heretic hideout."
Hiccup nearly choked on his fish.
"Mmmhrrmgh?" he smiled with it still in his mouth, trying to look polite and interested.
Stoick nodded. His eyes were slightly unfocused as though he was looking into the distance at something unseen.
"Many Dravanians there, plus several elezens. Sympathizers, no doubt," he snorted. "Seems to be the newest source of the attacks on Berk. A full unit of us is marching on it, leaving late tomorrow. I'm heading the group as one of the marauders."
Hiccup blinked, trying to still the uneasy sensation in his chest. "Orgh," he replied.
Stoick exhaled, then gave Hiccup a hearty grin. "No worries son! We don't leave until after the first dragoon lesson, so you'll see me when yeh get back! And you know us Berkians. Stubborn, hardy folk. The heretics are no match for us."
Hiccup nodded emphatically, trying to look reassuring. The phrase just kept repeating itself in his head. I'm a heretic. I'm a heretic. I'm a heretic. They're going after heretics. If they find out they'll kill me. I have to hide it. I'm a heretic. No one can know.
Now he had a sudden reason to continue dragoon training and do as well as he could. It would dissuade any suspicions of his moment of weakness.
Right. Okay! Dragoon training!
… ugh.
He finally swallowed his fish. "Cool Dad," he replied, trying to smile. "Halone's Grace be with you and the whole unit."
Stoick laughed. "We're not leavin' til tomorrow, son! But thanks for the blessing."
Hiccup tried to laugh back. It came out sounding very uneasy.
"Well, uh… I'm really full now, so I'm gonna go to bed," he gave a weak smile. "Make up for all that lack of sleep from last night."
"Wash up, first."
"Yeah, I'll do that. Night Dad."
He was glad to leave his father's company, if only for the horribly guilty sensation in his stomach that he knew didn't come from the cooking.
It followed him the rest of the night. It was the heavy, sinking reminder that he had freed that dragon instead of killing it, an act forbidden by the Ishgardian Orthodox Church, something considered treason and heresy… that dragon would go back to the Dravanians and tell them about the small lancer boy who had freed it, and the heretics would figure out…
The entire scenario cascaded in his mind up to where the Inquisitors deemed him guilty and hung his body from a cliff for all of Berk to see. Then Halone condemned his soul to the Seven Hells. He had no idea how he was supposed to sleep that night.
Washed, tired, and torn with everything, Hiccup practically collapsed into bed. He glanced out the window, breathing, trying somehow to give himself solace that everything would be all right. It didn't come.
The sky was clear tonight, bright stars glittering down upon the earth. That in itself was at least calming. At least it was unlikely they would be attacked by dragons again. Though…
The two moons of Eorzea's sky shone down, luminous against the darkness. Menphina and the smaller moon, her loyal hound Dalamud. Hiccup normally liked the sight of the two moons, serene celestial bodies against the plane of deep void. But tonight, Dalamud looked much larger than normal… and it glowed an odd reddish hue.
Gods know what kind of omen that is.
Hiccup shuddered, hoping that his fears wouldn't come to pass, and he turned over in an attempt to sleep.
