Chapter 7
Than you guys for all of the support! This next arc is going to focus on Hiccup's journeys outside of Berk, visiting a key new territory that will change his life forever. I hope you enjoy!
It was quite some time before Hiccup felt the last of his tears slide down his face, and it was even longer before he finally lifted his head from the saddle. When he did so, a glance at the dragons around him told him that they had been worrying about him. Nearly every draconic eye was trained on the young boy, and there were many reassuring croons coming from the small drove.
"You are awake." Remarked Toothless, and although the calm demeanour mostly hid the worry emanating from the black dragon, Hiccup could still tell that it was present.
"Yeah, I guess so." The solemn reply startled the dragon, who was unaccustomed to such a melancholic tone from the usually optimistic boy. Even worse was the question that followed.
"What are we going to do now, Toothless? I don't know the first thing about survival in the wild, and I don't even know where we are!" There was a desperation in his young charge that Toothless had never seen before, and it was quickly noted by the other dragons, who twitched and snorted restlessly in flight.
"Calm, two-legs," the Night Fury admonished. "You are not alone in your journey. You have many able hunters with you."
If Hiccup wasn't focussed on his own distress, he might have noticed that Toothless' speech was beginning to sound much less stilted, but the poor boy was too panicked to revel in his findings.
"But I need to be able to take care of myself!" The ex-Viking protested. "And I think that the scene in the Ring proved that I can't do that!"
In less important situations the dragon might have simply huffed and rolled his eyes at the childish whining, but he knew from experience that self-pity was a dangerous path to follow at such a monumental crossroads. Reverting back to Dragonese so as to explain himself thoroughly, the Night Fury snarled.
"And what makes you think that? Did you forget that you have gone where none have gone before, and done what none before you have ever done? Yes, you lack in physical aspects, but there is much more to you than that. Your best ally is your wit, and that which resides inside your head, else you would not have made it this far." Toothless growled.
Hiccup was stunned at the ferocity of his best friend, and for a moment he had no response. The other dragons also paused, and the air was devoid of wingbeats for just a second, as they finally understood the conversation that until that point had been in a foreign language from one party, and entirely silent from the other.
"Keep flying." Were the only words muttered by the outcast, before he lapsed into silence, his mind completely inaccessible to his partner.
As the world passed by, so too did the hours, and Hiccup allowed himself to take in the true beauty of his surroundings. Toothless was performing no manoeuvres that required direct attention, and so the boy relaxed slightly, his leg holding the pedal steady for Toothless to continue gliding on the more than welcome breeze directing them south.
He gazed at the sea below them, staring intently at the patches of green that seemed so out of place in such a deep blue complexion, wondering what the cause was, and why no one else had ever looked into it. Then again, he supposed that somewhere someone had, but Vikings were unlikely to care and unwilling to search for such trivial knowledge, as anything that didn't involve dragons or food was deemed unimportant.
The crash of the waves once again lulled him into a state of tranquillity and, on occasion, he thought that some of the shapes below the waterline shifted out of time with the rhythm of the white-capped hills. High as they were, Hiccup still felt the periodic spray of salt water hit him, though it did little in the way of dampening him.
The sky, too, held a semblance of reassurance. The clouds that, once upon a time, seemed so unattainable were now only a hairsbreadth away. It had startled him, at first, to know that they were not, in fact, of a solid form, and that they parted beneath his hand.
Eventually, Hiccup grew weary of anger, especially when it was directed at his closest companion. As he resolved to break the now-uncomfortable silence, it was done for him.
"Their wings grow heavy, two-legs." Toothless stated, sensing Hiccup's return to the present. "Captivity has taken its toll on them. They cannot fly far, especially when encumbered with your possessions."
Guilt wracked the young boy, as he remembered that he was now responsible for more than just himself. Ironically, after giving up his future as a chief, he had become one.
"I'm sorry," he whispered in strangled Dragonese, his throat sore from hours of silence. "Please, find us somewhere to rest."
Toothless grunted, eyes scanning the horizon for any patch of land that would likely be devoid of humankind. His keen draconic vision soon picked out a smudge to the south east, which was as far away from Berk as any other direction but had the added bonus of leading the group away from the Nest. He made the other dragons aware of their destination, and together they adjusted their course, tilting the wings and bodies in tandem and wheeling towards the island.
It was bizarre for Hiccup, to have flown for mere hours and reach places that were still a day's travel by boat. To keep himself busy, and prevent another lapse of self-loathing, the boy tried to calculate where they were, how far they had flown, how long it had taken them, anything to preoccupy himself whilst his companions flew.
He summarised that it had been just after noon when they had made their escape, meaning that they had flown for around four hours, judging by the position of the sun in the sky, and it was now getting on towards what would be the evening meal back on Berk.
On a different day, there would have been nothing special about Berk's evening meal. It would have been like any other. But on the day of the Final Test of Dragon Training, there would have been a feast comparing only to that of Snoggletog, or the Chief's Birthday. Hiccup wondered what was happening there now. Would Snotlout have been named heir already? Would the village be celebrating the fact that the traitor was gone? Or would his father be preparing a fleet to pursue him in blind fury? They might even be preparing to attack the Nest.
Hiccup shook his head, it didn't matter now. He had a new family to take care of, and they needed a place to sleep for the night. They were still much too close to Berk, and were still within the Archipelago, so whatever camp they made would be temporary, probably only for a solitary night before they moved on.
They slowly drew closer to the island, and Hiccup realised that it was Berk's very own sacred place, where they took the arduous journey south to proclaim their everlasting love in a beautiful ceremony. The Island of Frigga, as it was known to some, seemed an awful long way even on dragon back, and Hiccup simply marvelled at the Vikings and their silly customs. Sure, it was nice to prove your dedication to your other half by sailing for nearly two days to reach a final destination where you end up in a bond that can't be broken even by Odin himself, but was it really too important to conduct back on Berk?
Fate, it can be said, has an artistic touch, and Hiccup found the irony hidden in the world as he prepared to leave behind his Viking life and embark on a new journey at the very same island that his former tribe would become their own clan within the village, cementing their place on Berk for years to come. Had he not been sincerely distressed he might have even smiled and pointed it out to Toothless, whom may not have been entirely sure why it was funny.
The dragons wheeled around in a series of overlapping circles, spotting a clearing large enough for them to land at. Hiccup instantly recognised the man-made space, noting that this was the spot that the marriage ceremony would take place, and could only wonder at the fact that a view from above really could change one's perspective of the world. He was reminded of the true scale of the world whilst on the back of Toothless, as if everything had seemed out of proportion on the ground, too small and clumped together with too much ocean in between the lands.
He was slightly uneasy at the thought of landing at the ancestral marriage place of his forebearers, as if he was committing some form of treason. In some way he was, by arriving there on the back of their biggest enemy after being cast out by his tribe. Then again, he was already a kill-on-sight target, something else he now shared with his draconic companions.
Hiccup moved swiftly as Toothless settled down, unclipping from the saddle and swinging off with practiced ease. He helped the dragons relieve their burdens as they piled the three packs up in a heap and collapsed, exhaling hard. He felt a pang of guilt at their suffering, he really should have been aware of the consequences of forcing them to fly for so long.
He knew that he should do something, anything, to keep himself occupied, and so he decided on collecting firewood. At least starting it up wouldn't be a problem, and though the dragons around him generated enough heat to stave off the winter chills, he thought it would only be proper.
Removing a small hatchet from one of the packs, he straightened up and headed for the copse of trees nearby, painfully aware of the watching dragons.
"What is he doing?" Asked Barf who, despite having twice the heads of any dragon present, was unused to the ways of the humans.
"I believe that he is collecting wood to make a fire." Stormfly suggested, her tone almost regal as she proudly revealed such knowledge. Toothless snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Of course he is, he doesn't have an inner flame, and he certainly won't last the night without heat." The Night Fury said plainly.
Hiccup caught pieces of their conversation as he tried to hack off the low-lying branches of the nearby trees, but he wasn't really paying much attention. The physical exertion of the task was taking its toll on his small frame, and it was embarrassing that he couldn't accomplish such a menial task. Rather than resorting to gathering twigs and even smaller branches immediately, he continued his struggle. In fairness to Hiccup, the branch was almost thicker than he was wide, and why he had chosen this particular branch was a mystery to the winged onlookers.
"Do we help him?" Meatlug asked, with something close to concern in her voice. The other dragons glanced at Toothless, waiting for his opinion. The black dragon sighed.
"He thinks that he can't help himself or survive with his own skills." Toothless said. "So, we will wait. Eventually he will tire and then he will realise that his brain is just as useful as the brawn of his kin."
The dragons nodded in understanding, pride was at least something that they could comprehend, as they themselves were full of it. They resolved to settle themselves around the campsite, forming a loose perimeter around the clearing whilst they kept an eye on their young leader.
As Toothless had predicted, Hiccup eventually tired of his attempts to hack down the branches and turned away, throwing the hatchet in frustration with his left hand. To the general surprise of everyone in the vicinity, the axe flew straight and true, sinking into a tree trunk with a satisfying thunk.
The young Viking was far too frustrated to notice, but there was a gleam of triumph in the eyes of the Night Fury.
"Alright, I get it, I've learnt my lesson. I should have asked for help earlier." The boy complained. He then realised that he needed to switch to Dragonese and would most likely need to spend the next few days giving and receiving language lessons should any of the dragons choose to stay with them permanently.
"I said I was sorry." He said, glaring at his best friend. Said dragon rolled his eyes at the glare, before pretending to use a huge amount of effort to rise to his feet.
Hiccup watched as Toothless gripped a low branch with his teeth, ripping it off with a crunch. The wound left on the tree was more than unsightly, as it was not the clean cut that a blade would have made, but rather a scar left by the Night Fury. In hindsight, Hiccup realised that he should probably focus more on survival than the poetic description of the wilderness, at least until he had his feet back under him.
"Gee, thanks." The boy drawled sarcastically, and he was met with a playful scowl. Toothless dropped the branch and stared him down. Both boy and dragon seemed to forget their telepathic bond, and Hiccup's ability to understand Dragonese as they merely waited, unable to convey a message either way.
"He wants you to do the rest." Explained Meatlug kindly, and Toothless had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed that he had forgotten to communicate with his partner.
Hiccup nodded, but before he could venture to the tree to retrieve his axe, it was dropped at his feet by Sharpshot, who had torn it from the wood.
"Thank you." He said kindly, reaching down to scratch the dragon's head.
He then set about breaking up the branch, hacking off the smaller twigs to use to start the fire, and then chopping the rest into segments to use to keep it burning. It was much easier to work when he was angling the axe downward rather than having to reach upwards whilst swinging, and Hiccup realised that he really shouldn't have expected any results when he had been unsteadily balanced on his toes when he was trying to relieve the tree of its branch.
The labour did him good, and although the dragons repeatedly offered their help, he asked them to leave him to do this. He could accept help if he really was unable to carry out the task, but at some point, he would need to build up strength and ability, something he could not achieve with six dragons mothering him.
Even after a few swings Hiccup could feel the burn in his muscles, which were painfully small, no matter how many times he managed to convince himself that he was just lean. In some ways, chopping the branch was somewhat akin to his work in the forge, and upon this realisation the task became much easier, and also very melancholic. He required some amount of strength to repeatedly lift the axe, just as he did with a hammer at an anvil. Then, he would need precision to make sure that the cut was clean, and that he hit each groove at the same angle, much like he would do when forming and shaping a blade.
All of this raced around the young ex-Viking's mind, and he realised that perhaps there was truth in Toothless' words, and that he was indeed capable of more than he thought. He had the skill, and a foundation on which to build his strength and physical ability, all he needed was the determination and the mental fortitude to allow himself to progress.
Toothless could have smiled as he peeked into his partner's mind, watching the boy as his strikes with the hatchet became more refined and smooth, the frown occupying his face evened out into something that almost resembled a grin. The crafty Night Fury began to think of ways that he could help his human to gain muscle, but his grasp of the human anatomy proved his downfall. Of course, he was aware that repetitive physical exertion was essential, but he could hardly force Hiccup to wrestle with him, and the boy had different muscle requirements for certain, as he had no wings. Dragons could often get by on wing strength alone, but Toothless had no idea which areas of his small companion needed to be stronger. Perhaps Hiccup would co-operate with him and allow the dragons to assist him.
Eventually, the work was complete, and a small dribble of lava-like fire was provided by Meatlug to start the campfire. The runaways gathered around it, more out of a sense of comradery than a need to stay warm, and they settled into a comfortable silence that eventually turned into a deep slumber.
-Berk-
The entire village was in uproar. Their new champion, the runt of the litter that had become their greatest protégé, had turned on them. Hiccup Haddock had aligned himself with the dragons over his own people.
Stoick the Vast surveyed the Great Hall with interest, noting the more avid speakers and the actions of those around them.
"I knew it!" Came the rickety, nasally voice of Mildew, astoundingly loud when the speaker's small body was taken into account. "I knew he wasn't a real Viking! We should hunt him down while we can, slay him and his beasts where they stand!"
There was a loud shout of agreement, and although the old man raised an interesting argument, Stoick could not help but feel displeasure, more so at the person than the words that spilled forth.
"An' how would we do tha'?" Boomed the voice of Gobber the Belch, who seemed to have taken Hiccup's betrayal harder than any of them, as the man's voice cracked and wavered with heartbreak. "The boy's got dragon flight! There's no ship in the Archipelago that can catch 'im now!"
There was a wave of assent as some of the more level-headed Vikings realised that they had no means of chasing down the disgraced heir, and that the matter was probably best left out of mind. Hiccup was far away by now, and he wouldn't be coming back, so there was no real issue.
"Alright, settle down!" Stoick intervened as shouting escalated between the two sides. Neither paid him any attention and so the colossal chieftain lifted his war hammer and brought it down on the stone floor with a mighty crunch, silencing the entire tribe.
Heaving the weapon back out of the floor, Stoick stood, making himself visible on the dais where the Chief's table stood.
"There will be no hunt for the traitor." He announced gravely, but before he could continue he was interrupted by Mildew.
"Ah you've gone soft Stoick!" The vindictive elder declared, drawing glares from many in the hall. "Just because he's your son doesn't mean we can't punish him properly!"
"I have already exiled one member of this tribe today, Mildew, and if you don't keep a civil tongue that number will rise to two." Stoick threatened, eyes stormy and expression stony. The older man shrank back at the severity of the glare, falling silent.
"As I was saying," the Chief continued, addressing the enraptured crowd. "There will be no hunt. Winter is on its way and there are mouths to feed. Wasting ships on a wild dragon chase will not benefit this village."
The irony was not lost on Gobber, who knew that some in the village thought that the endless searches for the nest also provided no benefit to the village as without fail the ventures were fruitless. However, he knew that they had to present a united front and get the tribe back on the same page, so he held his tongue.
"That is also why," Stoick continued, as if he had read Gobber's thoughts, "There will be no more attacks on the nest until further notice. We need to put everything we have into preparing our defences for the winter ahead."
The Hooligan tribe truly fell silent at that. No longer were any quiet whisperings heard in the hall at the Chief's announcement. Stoick the Vast was letting go of his hound-like pursuit of the Dragon's Nest, a prize that he had sought out ever since the loss of his wife. It was a monumental moment in which the tribe finally appreciated Stoick's immense physical strength, yet also his mental and emotional strength. Many felt sorry for their Chief, who had lost his immediate family to the winged creatures, but his ability never failed, and he had proven himself time and time again in their eyes.
As Stoick dismissed the tribe, the teens that Hiccup had trained with found themselves at their usual table, but there was a darkened atmosphere to the customarily jovial group.
"I can't believe him!" Fumed Snotlout. "The Useless actually betrayed us! Wait until I get my hands around his scrawny neck, he'll wish he'd never been born."
"Actually, I think he already wishes that." Commented Fishlegs, who was saddened more than outraged at Hiccup's actions. "I mean, did you see his face when he was in there? He looked desperate, terrified even." He explained upon seeing the confused glances directed his way.
"Exactly! He was scared." Crowed Snotlout. "A real Viking never feels fear."
The group paused, recalling the words spoken so often to them by their elders about the standards that a Viking should meet. Heads tilted one way or another as each gave the matter their consideration, coming to the conclusion that Snotlout was possibly correct.
There is something to be said about the influence of the powerful. Even if their intentions are not always just, they retain the ability to swing a debate one way or the other without a convincing argument, simply by stating their opinion. It is a gift that not many have the opportunity to obtain, but on Berk there was nothing to stop Snotlout Jorgenson from reaching out and taking such power for himself. After all, his cousin was much weaker than himself, and he was second in line to the chiefdom should anything happen. When coupled with the fact that there simply weren't many children on Berk, this left the young man with a lot of power and very little in the way of correct guidance, so it is perhaps hasty to judge him so harshly.
Despite Snotlout's obvious cruelty and arrogance, the teens of Berk more often than not found themselves swaying to see his side of the story, no matter what the event. They themselves were not exactly a vindictive group, but they too had lacked the correct guidance when growing up. Not for a lack of trying, but it is rather hard to parent well when one is constantly fending off hordes of fire-breathing lizards, rebuilding homesteads, and working the usual jobs around the village.
With Hiccup gone, the rest of the children of Berk, both the teens and those younger, had all come to the same realisation. Snotlout was now the heir of Berk. Something that gave him even more power. Even Astrid Hofferson, who more often than not had merely stuck to the side-lines when Hiccup had been attacked or bullied, found herself in a difficult position. Of course, she wouldn't have come to the defence of the runt anyway, she was perhaps the one person in the tribe that now hated Hiccup more than anyone, but now she was starting to see the Jorgenson boy's point of view, even share it.
With the day drawing to a close, one thing was certain, Hiccup Haddock was no longer welcome in the Archipelago, nor did he want to be there. But the artistic thing about fate is that it always appears when least expected.
Hiccup's sleep was haunted by the screams. The harrowing sounds of death reminded him of exactly what he had done. There was an unbearable heat around him, flames that leapt up whenever he tried to push through. Turning around, he found himself trapped, entirely encircled by the blaze.
Shapes prowled around the outside, mere shadows flickering in the light, and for a fleeting moment Hiccup feared that it was some hostile species of dragon. Such concerns were banished and replaced with a much more palpable dread as the shapes drew closer.
A gargantuan figure forced its way through the flames, abhorrently scarred and face twisted with cruelty.
"You did this." Stoick the Vast accused, stalking towards the boy. The closer the man drew, the smaller Hiccup felt. He shrank back, cowering as close to the flames as he dared.
Other figures, similarly disfigured, limped through the flames. Some Hiccup had seen die in the arena, some had been killed because of him. Others were survivors of his escape, their injuries less pronounced but nonetheless gruesome.
They closed in around him, before an animalistic growl could be heard behind Hiccup, beyond the blaze. Just as Stoick raised his ever-present axe, a black shape flew over Hiccup, a blast was fired, and all went dark.
-The Clearing-
The first thing Hiccup noticed was the lack of noise. Aside from the twittering of a few of the native birds, and the huffing of the dragons in their sleep, there was nothing. It was peaceful, infinitely more so than his dream, and for a moment the young ex-Viking simply relaxed. After a few soothing seconds his eyes finally cracked open, allowing light to filter in.
Unfortunately, the smell surrounding Hiccup was not nearly as pleasant as the sound. The sweet stench of sweat filled the air immediately around him, and he realised that his clothes were damp not from dew but were the result of his nightmare. There was also a distinct aroma of dung, and Hiccup was horrified to see a large pile of it just metres away from the area that had served as his bed for the night.
"They thought they were helping." Came the helpful voice of Toothless, who had been standing guard for the last few hours, ever since Hiccup had woken him with the nightmare.
"They wanted to keep you warm but didn't want to risk burning you." The black dragon continued, a hint of amusement creeping in at Hiccup's expression of disgust.
He sighed. The newly-formed flock clearly had his best interests at heart but perhaps it was time for a talk of some form.
He was touched that they cared, but he desperately wished that they had come up with a better way to express their concern. Dragon dung was not the perfect gift, although he did have to admit that he hadn't felt cold once during the night.
Toothless laughed in his head, which still felt beyond strange to Hiccup, having his best friend constantly able to tell what he was thinking.
"Is there some way to control what you can see in my head?" The boy asked, making sure to keep the conversation a mental one so as to not disturb the other dragons.
"Why would you need to?" Toothless questioned, completely oblivious to the human construct of privacy, even as a solitary species of dragon.
Hiccup did not much want to explain himself, but he knew that Toothless wouldn't tell him without a good reason to back up the decision.
"No reason, it was just a question." The boy answered, knowing that the matter would not be forgotten, but Toothless seemed content to drop the conversation for the time being.
Around them the other dragons began to stir, and then Hiccup became busy in greeting them and attempting to explain that humans didn't eat raw fish and so he had to cook his breakfast. Unfortunately for the poor boy, he simply didn't know enough Dragonese, and so repeatedly relayed information through Toothless, who soon became bored of playing translator.
"Enough!" The Night Fury barked, stunning the small group into silence. "Two-legs are a strange species, and do not enjoy the same earthly pleasures that we do. Therefore, Hiccup cannot eat the same as we do. If we were the same, he would have wings, and breath fire just as we do."
Although everyone present was very aware of these differences, no one was willing to further test Toothless' patience, and so they lapsed into silence as they watched the human cook his fish.
"Where will you go?" The boy asked, struggling with the unfamiliar Dragonese words.
The dragons looked at each other before Stormfly answered.
"We have heard of a great king in the North, that offers sanctuary to all," she began, "and we have decided to try to find him."
They all looked sheepish, if dragons could do so, but Hiccup merely smiled.
"A good choice." He responded, then switching to Norse to better express what he wanted to say next. "I wish you all the best on your journey, and for what it's worth you have my blessing."
He had heard his father say something similar to couples that came to him asking for permission to leave the tribe to find their own way in the world, and he felt distinctly older and wiser as the words left his mouth.
Despite his previous complaints, Toothless deemed the phrase important enough to translate.
"May your wings be string and the wind at your back." The Night Fury added solemnly.
The small drove dipped their heads as one, a show of respect that even Toothless seemed shocked by. As they rose, Meatlug spoke.
"Would you come with us?"
Boy and Night Fury looked at each other, and collectively shook their heads.
"We have our own journey to undertake first." Toothless informed them, and Hiccup felt a tinge of sadness emanating from his friend, adding to his own. "But if we ever find our way north, then we shall endeavour to find you all again."
It wasn't long before the dragons had prepared for their flight, and as they all spread their wings to take off they called their goodbyes. It was truly a majestic sight, to witness the small myriad of colour lift from the ground in such a grandiose manner. The drove gained height, their wings already seeming so much stronger than the previous day as they rose towards the clouds.
As their allies wove their way back north, skirting west slightly to avoid both Berk and the Nest, Hiccup and Toothless remained fixed on the horizon, watching the group until they were mere spots in the sky. A solitary tear rolled down Hiccup's cheek, and he sniffed as he wiped at it.
"Just you and me, bud." He stated, glancing at his best friend.
"Always." The dragon replied.
