Chapter 8
When Stoick had a goal in mind he seldom tolerated anything interfering with it or hindering him, and now that he had made up his mind to find Hiccup's body and bury it properly, the only things that could have stopped him were the discovery of the dragon nest at Helheim's Gate or his own death. Once the weather was adequate for his purpose, which took a maddening two days, every boat Berk had available was out in the water by the afternoon and the Vikings began the long, drawn out process of searching for a corpse on the ocean floor.
It was easier said than done, for visibility was very limited, and in many places it was impossible to see all the way to the bottom. The only way around this was to have people dive into the sea and look around while submerged, rather like pearl fishers. It was a risky venture at the best of times, for in addition to the obvious risk of drowning, there was also the possibility of freezing to death. While the sky over Berk had cleared enough, the sun warmed nothing, least of all the ocean depths. The sea around Berk was never very warm to begin with, and by this time of year it was downright frigid and would only get colder until well after Thawfest. But Stoick persisted and set the example, so all anyone could do was grit their teeth, hold their breath, and pray Hiccup's body would be found quickly so they would not need to make more than one dive.
From some of the boats it was possible to see Hiccup's ghost wandering around on the seaside cliffs. Astrid explained to the people on her boat that, according to Hiccup, ghosts could only move on water at certain times of day.
"So we're as safe from him now as we ever will be?" someone asked, looking very relieved.
"You could say that," Astrid muttered. She glanced at Snotlout, who had been 'volunteered' by his father to join the search. Ever since his night in jail he had been incredibly downcast, jumpy, and quiet. The same could be said of the Thorsten Twins. While it was true Ruffnut had not been imprisoned, she had reacted to her brother's arrest very badly and was at that very moment ill and confined to her bed. So was Tuffnut. Astrid was not too sure about what Hiccup had done, because Tuffnut and Snotlout were completely refusing to talk about it now, but whatever it was it had been very effective. She could not recall ever seeing them so glum or less talkative.
Soon they were not the only ones who were in low spirits. Most of the searchers were not participating whole heartedly in the first place, and as the day slipped by without any success, they began to grow impatient and careless. Only on Stoick's boat was the dedication to the task maintained, and that was largely because the Chief was present. On all the other boats the dives became brief, ineffective, and after a while nonexistent. Everyone just decided they had searched enough for the day and with Stoick not present to give contrary orders they left it at that.
Fishlegs Ingerman was on Stoick's boat as a rower. Despite having the word 'Fish' in his name, he was an incompetent swimmer. Stoick did not call upon him to join in the diving but to merely keep the boat steady and on course. As the afternoon wore on they still had not found anything and Stoick himself was almost forced to admit the failure of the day. While he wanted to keep searching he knew it would be more practical to turn the boats around before it grew dark and trust to better luck tomorrow. While he was making up his mind, Fishlegs stood up in the boat, stretching his legs and his aching back whilst admiring the view of Berk from the sea. In an endless cycle the seawater rolled into the smooth cliffs and shot upwards, spraying everything within its reach.
Then someone shoved him and he fell into the sea before he knew what was happening.
He was so startled to be in the frigid water that he opened his mouth to scream, only for his cry to be met with the onrush of seawater. He flailed his arms helplessly, trying to stay afloat and get someone's attention. The water pounded against his ears like a hammer. Every movement felt like being stabbed by a knife. He could almost feel his body shrinking and shriveling up as he grew colder.
And then, unexpectedly, someone or something grabbed his hand, but they did not pull him out of the water, but instead began to pull him through it.
"And they called me useless?" someone shouted. Fishlegs was too shocked to recognize the voice or really even understand what they were saying. "They've got 20 boats out and still can't find one stupid body? How useless was I, really?"
Fishlegs hardly knew what was happening to him. He was being dragged through the ocean, freezing cold water slapping against his face so much he could hardly draw breath, and he could feel his limbs growing numb.
And then, all of sudden, they stopped. Only then did Fishlegs see that he had been pulled by invisible hands. He guessed easily whose they were, and his guess was confirmed within moments by Hiccup's voice telling him to take a deep breath. Fishlegs had barely the time to comprehend and obey this when he was shoved underwater.
It took him a few precious moments to orientate himself. Once he did he managed to glimpse an undersea world of small rocks and sand. Smooth dull colored pebbles with silt to fill in the gaps, and the whole floor was literally nothing else. There were no fish anywhere, nor any aquatic plants. Fishlegs had often heard stories of waters so teaming with fish a man could walk across them, of great and colorful reefs, and literal forests of kelp and seaweed, yet such waters always seemed to be in someone else's territory.
Not forgetting that he only had a few moments at best, he waved his arms so he could slowly turn around in the water. And then he saw the body of a large black dragon in the seabed. Not too far from it was Hiccup's corpse.
Both bodies were considerably worse for wear. They were recognizable but showed signs of decay and of being fed upon. They also showed signs that their final moments had not been peaceful. Some of their limbs were lying at odd, unnatural angles, and Fishlegs could make out some small distance away the faint shape of a boulder, the general size of which was equal to the boulders Berk used to fire from her catapults.
Fishlegs quickly fought his way to the surface, gasping for air. He had half expected Hiccup's ghost to pull him up but the ghost seemed to have disappeared and Fishlegs hardly had the inclination to look for him. He was more concerned about getting out of the water. Fortunately Stoick's boat was making for him as fast as they could row. Unfortunately it took a while to reach him and by the time they pulled him out he was shivering so badly they could have put him over a fire and he would have called it merely 'temperate'. His teeth were chattering so badly he could not have said a word if his life depended on it, so Stoick gave the order to head for shore. It was not until they returned to the village that Fishlegs was able to tell them, briefly, what he had seen.
Stoick thanked him and sent him to Gothi, and sent another Viking out to spread the word that the search would restart in the morning. So absorbed was he in his thoughts that he left Fishlegs to walk to Gothi's place alone.
"Rather rude of him," Fishlegs muttered as he rubbed his arms, "I nearly drown and freeze to death and he's only thinking about other things. But then, he is the Chief,"
"That's how it usually goes." Hiccup appeared next to him. Fishlegs did not even flinch.
"Thanks for that, by the way. You could've just told me where to look." He said crossly.
"It was revenge," Hiccup replied softly.
Fishlegs frowned. "Revenge?"
"Imagine friendship is a boat. You pushed me out of ours and left me to flounder and drown while you sat safely with the Jorgenson and Thorsten bullies. Call us even now." He disappeared before Fishlegs could speak again.
Fishlegs now walked to Gothi's hut feeling even more miserable than before, because he knew the metaphor had been accurate.
Stoick was now pacing back and forth in his house. A horde of Vikings were with him. A fire was blazing away, and by its light they were able to gaze at a crude map of Berk.
"So the body is located right here," Stoick announced, "We'll bury it as soon as we get it up. Phlegm, talk to Gothi tomorrow and see that preparations are made for another funeral."
"Yes Chief, I'll see to it."
"And Fishlegs said a black dragon was in the water next to it," Spitelout said, "what kinds of dragons are black?"
"Whispering Deaths and Night Furies," he was informed, "and judging by the description that was no Whispering Death."
"So that means we finally have a dead Night Fury," Stoick said happily, "That head will be a fine trophy to hang in on Mead Hall, wouldn't you agree?"
As everyone nodded the walls began to shake. Hiccup's ghost literally stepped out of the roaring fireplace. "You pieces of rotting flesh won't touch him!"
Stoick hardly jumped when he saw Hiccup but the harsh words amazed him. He had never heard Hiccup speak like that before. The ghost's gray eyes were positively blazing with anger such as Stoick had never seen in his boy.
"What do you mean by that?" Stoick asked, forcing himself to stay calm.
"Exactly what I said! Which word did you not understand?"
"And what concern is it of yours?" demanded Spitelout Jorgenson. "It's a dragon! It's a dragon and you're a ghost!"
"And you're a human. What concern is it of yours? He's dead and gone forever, so leave what's left of him in peace, or so help me, I'll bring down every roof on the whole island and then I'll start getting vengeful!"
Stoick said, "Hiccup, why are you defending that dragon so much? It killed you!"
"Do you never listen to me? I thought after I'd died you might look back, reflect on where things went wrong, and desire to make up for your failings, and yet now that I'm back among you, what happens? You instantly revert to your old habits and ignore what I say, just like you always have!"
"But son, it's a Night Fury! Think of the prestige and honor such a trophy will bring to Berk!"
"You found a corpse underwater. Oh yes, a very brave and dangerous adventure, a very brave bunch of Vikings you are, bringing a dead dragon up from the shallows to put on display. Very brave indeed!" he spat. "You couldn't even find him without the help of a ghost!"
"You won't be a ghost for long, son," Stoick replied, "We'll get you up tomorrow and have the funeral at once. You'll be in Valhalla before you know it!"
"And you'll be rid of me, so we'll both happy for once, won't we?" Hiccup said with such obvious sarcasm it made several people wince. "You don't even know who killed me! Do you even care about finding that out? And if you even think about saying it was the dragon—"
Stoick held up his hands. He smiled and shook his head in a condescending way, as if he knew a simple truth that Hiccup was too stupid to see. "All right, perhaps the dragon didn't kill you directly. I think I know what's happened now. The dragon found you in the woods and carried you off. One of the villagers saw the beast flying away and, quite naturally, shot at it. The shot was good and sent the dragon into the sea. Unfortunately, you went with it. I'm sorry son, truly, but it was an accidental death, and all my apologies can't restore you to life, so I don't see what more I can do. But I assure you, son, we'll send you to Valhalla, and you'll be happy there, so there's nothing more to worry about." He would have put his hands reassuringly on Hiccup's shoulders except they went right through him.
But Hiccup was not reassured at all. Instead he smiled icily, as if he knew a simple truth that Stoick was too stupid to see. "Oh, Dad, you think you're so clever. But there's one problem with your little theory. I wasn't 'carried off' by any dragon."
Stoick looked confused and angry. "Explain yourself for once then,"
"I hadn't planned to tell you this. I thought 'let him spend the rest of his life never knowing what really happened', but I think the truth will hurt you even more. So tell me: what do you plan to do about the dragons around here?"
"Kill them of course!"
"Why?"
Stoick was growing annoyed. "Haven't I taught you anything? They raid us! They attack us, steal our flocks, they're dangerous monsters, and they've killed—!"
"Hundreds of us, yes, we know. It seems you say that every time this comes up." The ghost snapped impatiently, "Well I've spoken to a few of those hundreds, and you know what? They all said that they don't care about people avenging them. Your bloodlust certainly hasn't helped them out in any way! They wish you'd learn from the past and find another way to end the war instead of making the same mistakes we've been making for centuries. Good grief, Stoick, you're a man who keeps ramming his head against a brick wall to get it to fall over, and instead of trying to go over or under or around it you just keep on ramming, even when that's clearly not working! When is this going to stop?"
"When they are all dead of course!"
"And here's more of the ramming. You don't even know what you're talking about! How many thousands of dragons have been killed in the last 300 years, yet they keep coming, don't they?"
"And once we find the nest we'll be able to wipe them out for good!"
"And here's even more of the ramming. People have been trying for 300 years to find that nest! How many lives did you lose on the last expedition? Who's to say the next one will have any better luck? What are you trying to do, throw bodies into the jaws of death in the hopes that the mouth will eventually be so full it can't eat any more? Do you want Berk to be doing this another 300 years from now? My point is: don't you think it's about time to try something else?"
"Like what?" Stoick spat, "what could possibly work that we haven't tried yet?"
"How about befriending them?"
Nobody knew whether to burst into laughter or feel insulted at such an idea, so they exchanged perplexed glances.
Then Stoick laughed. "Ha! Befriend them? Haha, that's a good one, son! You always did dream of impossible things—like thinking Astrid would ever fall in love with you, remember that? Hahaha!"
Hiccup's fists tightened and he vanished briefly. When he reappeared he was holding a piece of parchment. "Here,"
It was a picture of him hugging a black dragon. Even though it was a drawing there was clearly love and affection in the eyes of both figures.
As Stoick held the parchment his hands began to shake and contort, until the parchment was crumpled up. "It's true, then?" he asked in a deadly whisper.
"I freely admit it," Hiccup replied smugly.
"You…you actually…"
"I met a dragon, befriended him, named him, spent time with him, learned from him, and even flew through the air on him—and the whole time kept him hidden from everybody! Hah!" he burst into a loud laugh that abruptly dissolved into a sob.
Stoick's face turned red. Everybody else in the room was shocked and afraid to move or even speak.
"You befriended—"
"Yes I did! And though it ended up costing me my life, if I had the chance to do it again, I would—only I would speed things up so we'd have more time together! How impossible does it sound now?"
Stoick nearly exploded. "You…you traitor! Didn't I teach you anything? Didn't I—"
"Oh yes you did. You taught me that dragons are dangerous beasts that only go for the kill. Well I wasn't killed by a dragon, but by a human!"
"You've disgraced us! How dare you even think of looking at me like that? You little piece of filth—you—" he was so angry he could not speak.
Hiccup looked around at everyone else. "Well don't just stand there! Let's hear the pigs in the room squeal a few times because something happened that they don't like! Go ahead and disown me, if you think it'll change anything! Throw me out into the streets if you can, you pack of rabid moles! Oh, what's the matter, too scared to move faster than a starfish? Call me 'useless' if it'll help! But the truth is I made friends with a Night Fury, and I named him Toothless, and the only person on this pile of rocks who has even came close to equaling his kindness is Gobber—one dragon showed me more kindness and friendship than an entire village! Sleep on that, if you can! Try and wrap your acorn sized brains around it! Oh, and one more thing, remember how during the last raid so many dragons were getting away even after you thought you'd trapped them?"
This sent them into pure outrage. "It was you!" Spitelout Jorgenson shouted, "You helped those beasts escape!"
"Guilty as charged! What are you going to do about it?"
Stoick might have half strangled the boy if he could have actually held him. Spitelout would probably have strangled him entirely.
Hiccup just laughed, and his laughter grew shrill. He sounded half mad. "I rescued them because I am sick of violence and pointless bloodshed. You bunch of idiots are in a war you can never hope to win, and you keep going because you can't bear the thought of giving up! Fine, make the island suffer for your stubbornness, but you aren't going to make any more dragons suffer too if I have anything to say about it!"
"They attack us!" Stoick roared.
"Well who was here first: the Vikings or the dragons? A bunch of people in boats showed up one day and declared this was where they would live. Didn't they ever think that perhaps there might be wildlife living here that would object to this or try to take advantage of it? I seriously doubt they ever did. Vikings are about as agreeable and considerate as an ulcer. And we've stuck it out this whole time, well congratulations for proving your resistance in the face of adversity. You've gotten a lot of people killed and haven't gained a thing, of course, but at least you proved your resistance in the face of adversity! Honestly, Dad, you said Vikings can conquer mountains and tame the seas: you can't even keep control over what happens on this stupid little rock!"
"And you think we should just leave?" Stoick shouted.
"I'm just saying it's time to change tactics. I made friends with a dragon, and until our untimely deaths it was going very well."
"I'll bet it was just playing friendly so it could eat you at the right moment." Spitelout spat.
"You don't have a clue of what you're talking about—as usual." Hiccup retorted, "You were just shouting that dragons are mindless beasts that always go for the kill, and now you're suggesting they are cunning creatures who wait for the right moment to strike—and pass up a million good chances in the process? Smart or dumb, which is it? Or is it just whatever suits your drive to satisfy your own bloodlust and pride at the moment? That's what this all really is about, you know. You swine are so proud you'd rather destroy the island and everyone on it than have it be said you gave up."
The Vikings were stunned. Not only was Hiccup talking in ways they had never heard nor imagined they would ever hear, but he had turned the tables on them. Upon his revelation one might have expected Hiccup would be forced to defend his behavior, but instead he had turned the argument around and put them on the defensive! Instead of merely defending why he had broken with Berk customs, he was essentially demanding why Berk had ended up with those customs to begin with.
Hiccup took a deep breath. "I repeat what I said. You won't touch that dragon. And now that you know it's possible to be around one without any risk, perhaps you'll reconsider your options. Or more likely I'll be seeing the ghosts of your loved ones later on. Think about it."
"What did I ever do to make you hate me so much, that you would disgrace us like this?" Stoick cried.
For the first time, Hiccup's voice trembled. "Hate you? I wish I hated you! It would make this so much easier! You think I like it, looking at a man whom I once practically worshiped, looked up to, and respected, and knowing it was only an illusion that bit by bit has been broken? You think I like seeing what our relationship is today and comparing it to what it was so many years ago? You think I like being able to recall a distant time when you actually cared about me and wishing for those days to come back somehow? What made you hate me so much that you've hardly even cared about finding who actually killed me?"
Stoick tried to look indifferent. "What difference can it make? Finding your killer won't bring you back."
"The same could be said about mom, yet you thought of nothing but finding her killer when she died!" Hiccup shouted accusingly.
Stoick shrugged. "Maybe I've learned that revenge doesn't help."
"Or maybe you just don't care enough about me to bother. And you have the nerve and stupidity to wonder why I turned to a Night Fury for comfort. It's not like I had any humans I could turn to!"
"You would have!" Stoick insisted, "If you'd just been a little more—"
"I've heard enough."
Hiccup vanished. The picture, which Stoick was still clenching, was pulled from his fist. A moment later one of the windows shattered, followed by another one, and another.
"Hiccup, stop it!" Stoick yelled.
"This is story of our relationship. One by one every tie that connected us shatters!"
Stoick tried to reassert his parental authority. "Now you listen here, young man, keep this up and I won't give you a proper funeral! You'll be a ghost forever!"
Hiccup laughed even louder. "Then my body will remain where it belongs next to Toothless, and I'll haunt Berk forever! Or until I get bored or you succeed in destroying it, whichever comes first!"
"Son, be reasonable—"
Another window was smashed. "You lost the right to call me that a very long time ago."
Every window in Stoick's house was smashed that night. The entire village heard the mad cries that wavered between laughter and sobbing.
