I'm sorry this one got in so late – I fell a little behind with updates for my stories and business with finals. But here we are, the next chapter, and it's my longest yet.
And wow, 200 followers already, just from posting these admittedly rather depressing chapters! I can hardly wait until we get to the big stuff.
This chapter was based on a request from a reviewer, for Hiccup to have a final confrontation with Stoick of sorts. I wasn't planning on it when I planned out the plot, but I liked the idea, so here it is. So yeah, you can give some more suggestions, and I'll be willing to see what I can do to fit them in if I like them enough. Don't hate me too much, but here's where the angst rises up to dangerously high levels.
All rights to Httyd belong to Cressida Cowell and DreamWorks.
Hiccup was having a hard enough time as it was trying to see Toothless for the next couple of days, never finding time to sneak into the forest. He was always too worried his father would see him sneaking away, his actions only increasing the man's rage even further. Stoick was still heavily intent on delivering the lecture of a lifetime to Hiccup for his neglect of work at the forge and assumedly causing trouble. That annoyed Hiccup greatly, to think his father would just jump to conclusions about his being a pest to the other villagers.
Hiccup had actually been working at the forge while hiding from his father, despite Stoick's opinions on his lackadaisical attitude. He was in his little workspace in the back of the forge, the spot Gobber had rented to him so he could have a nice quiet spot to work without someone yelling at him every five minutes. Hiccup loved this space, the walls decorated on every inch with pictures of ideas he had for machines, crude depictions of what they were and what their designated function was. The space was his own, a practical journey inside his mind where a plethora of ideas were being born each and every day. A candle was lit to provide the boy a sparse amount of light to draw with in the dark room, half-melted from previous use, illuminating the dark corners and highlighting inventions that were yet to be created. The shelves were lined with spare parts for use in building these inventions, as well as a few books here and there explaining the mechanics behind different weapons and machinery such as the catapults that lined the perimeter of the island for defense against dragons. As a whole, it was a bit sparse and empty, but Hiccup figured ways on from now the room would be littered with other, newer, better ideas, ideas the others would have to recognize.
He was hard at work on another one of those ideas now, for a new machine, another invention of his that could benefit Berk somehow. He didn't care what anyone else said: he wanted to make a fair contribution to help improve life on Berk, and this was the only way he knew to do it. He was powerful in mind, not body, already showing prowess beyond his years; beyond his time period, really. He agreed that yes, his plans may have seemed a bit ambitious or crazy, but if people were just willing to give them a chance they could really change things around Berk for the better.
This machine in particular was designed to make planting crops a little easier for the farmers; it was a bouncing stick meant to quickly plant seeds with rotating canisters of dirt and water attached. The stick could dig a hole with the perfect amount of deepness and then eject a seed from the spring built within the tip of the metal piston into the ground, dispensing dirt to seal up the hole, then water it. His attempts at making dragon killing devices didn't go well, and now that he had a dragon for a best friend, Hiccup couldn't bring himself to make anything that could potentially make a dragon's life. Hiccup figured the next best thing was improving daily life; it was basically the same thing as before, doing something that was sure to make the people see his worth.
He had just finished calibrating the springs within the metal pole and was now attaching the canisters to the top near the handles when he heard a knock at the door. Hiccup was surprised at the gentleness of the knock – it couldn't have been his father, who was breaking doors down with one good pound nowadays. It couldn't have been Gobber either – the smith could never be that gentle, Hiccup sometimes wondering if he even knew what gentle was. So then who…?
"Hiccup, what are you doing?" A young girl's voice asked. Hiccup groaned, it was Astrid. He said nothing and returned to his work, trying to ignore the continued knocks.
"Hiccup, I know you're in there. You better not be working on another crazy invention of yours, your dad's mad enough as it is." She pointed out. Again the boy ignored her, focused solely on getting his invention to work and not have a repeat of what happened the last time.
After the dream he had had the other day, with the giant flaming Viking figure, he didn't really want to deal with anyone right now. That, and the villagers hadn't exactly been very kind to him in recent memory. The latter alone wouldn't have been enough for him to isolate himself from everyone, but the former had left him with a feeling he couldn't place. A feeling of suspicion, maybe, like everyone around him suddenly wasn't trustworthy; he did question it, considering he had lived with these people all his life for the short amount of time it was and was mostly convinced they wouldn't try to do him harm. The evidence against his people was overwhelming though, and his nervousness around them had increased to a point beyond a lack of happiness, where he simply no longer felt safe among them. He had considered speaking to Gothi about the matter and receiving her sage advice on what the dreams meant. The elder had asked if he had any strange dreams lately, and what he saw the previous nights definitely qualified. But he couldn't help but notice Gothi giving him a small flash of the evil eye, possibly sensing the connection to Toothless; Hiccup wasn't about to be interrogated like some criminal, so he put the matter aside.
Quickly getting frustrated, Astrid pounded on the door interrupting again, hard enough that she knew the irksome boy could hear her. "Okay, listen up! I have better things to do than check up on you like some nanny. So either you come out this door right now or I'll bust in and drag you out!" He better have come out in the next few moments or she was going to take her axe and hack the door open. She might get reprimanded by Gobber, but Hiccup was being too annoying for her to care anyway. Hiccup was the problem here, not her.
In the blink of an eye, the door was opened, revealing a very irritated Hiccup standing at the door, his face fixed in a scowl that, although rather soft compared to his elders, was very unbecoming of him. Astrid was surprised, but the look of anger on her own face did little to betray it. A second passed as they just stood there, staring at each other in pure annoyance, the tension practically choking them with airy hands. Hiccup was the one to break the silence and speak.
"What do you want?" He asked.
"I came to tell you your dad's looking for you, he wants to talk to you." Astrid said.
"Tell me something I don't know…" said Hiccup as he prepared to go back to work. Astrid held back the door before he could close it completely and forced it completely open. The torrent of light from outside was blinding next to the singular flicker he had been working with for the past few hours. He winced from the sudden discomfort it brought upon his eyes.
"No, how about you tell me something I don't know…" She stared angrily, "…like why you've been avoiding him for the past couple of days? He's your chief – when he talks, you listen."
Hiccup never turned to face her, instead he continued to work on his project, his arms fiddling around working with the components. He tried to tighten the screws which would fasten the canisters in place, Astrid's words driving his hand more than necessary. Others were expected to listen when his father spoke, but in the rare moments when he talked or simply given the chance to, the chief just cut him off. His words could never break that wall that fortified his father's thoughts, because there was no strength to back them in his opinion. Hiccup was not that ideal son his father wanted, so Stoick must have figured his thoughts just weren't listening to, and never would be until the boy could learn to walk, talk, act, and think like everyone else. Why his way of doing things, his thoughts of progress, were so terrible, he would probably never know.
"Well? Aren't you gonna say something?" Astrid asked, her anger flaring up to dangerous levels. "I'm not leaving until you give me an answer."
Hiccup only turned his head partway to spare her a glance, stopping his work and giving her his attention out of simple courtesy. "I thought you said you weren't my nanny. You don't seem to have any trouble acting like it."
Astrid's eyes widened briefly before narrowing them again in anger, pointing a finger of accusation straight at him. "Hey, I'm just trying to figure out what your problem is."
"MY problem!?" Hiccup asked incredulously, spinning around to face her in full, in total disbelief at her statement.
"Between these inventions and your running off and disappearing every day, you're already causing a lot of people headaches. Now there's this attitude to go with it all – you'd think you'd show your people a bit more consideration than that."
Those words may as well have been a slap in the face to Hiccup, his heart feeling the sting as opposed to his cheek. His jaw was dropped to the ground and his arms fallen limply at his side, his bones left slack over her statement. Astrid, on the other hand, showed not a hint of remorse from her 'attack' on Hiccup; she meant what she said, with no more respect for their former friendship she honestly believed it. It was about time Hiccup had heard the truth about how much of a nuisance he was, but unlike Snotlout, she was going to do it the right way. No insults, no threats, just come out and say it, and if he felt bad, good. It would be all the more inspiration for him to get his act together and start learning to do things like he should be.
"All you do is cause problems; why can't you just help Gobber in the forge like you're supposed to!? Stop wasting time on these ridiculous ideas of yours and start doing something for you village!" She shouted.
Hiccup's fists clenched with white-turned knuckles and anger boiled over inside of him like broth set over the fire. No way was he going to let Astrid just insult him and his efforts like this; sure they didn't always turn out well, but his intentions should have at least shone through. Her arguments were completely unfounded, especially if all she had to look at were results – he wasn't one to think of himself but he figured he deserved at least a little more than that. With a foot set forward he shouted, trying to stop any tears before they even had the chance to form.
"I am doing something for my village! That's all I've ever done!" He gestured back to the wall of pictures behind him hidden in the semi-dark room. "All my inventions, all these 'ridiculous ideas', everything; I come up with it all to try to help you guys! That's all I've ever wanted, to do my part, to be a Viking, to show I can do things right, that I'm not… 'Hiccup the Useless!' I don't need some lecture on responsibility from my father, which, by the way, you've already spared him the trouble of giving. Go ahead and tell him; I'm sure he'll give you a big pat on the back for that, and you can feel especially proud because that's more than he ever gave me!"
Astrid was unfazed at the boy's outburst; in fact it seemed Hiccup had said something that she was expecting him to spit out. She scoffed and crossed her arms and held herself in a dignified manner just as any adult Viking like her parents or the chief would, blowing back her bangs. "And the truth comes out…"
"What?" Hiccup said.
"You're doing all this because you want to get attention from your dad; don't deny it, you just said so! I bet you're running off into those woods, even after he told you not to, and you're doing it anyway just to make him run in after you! Here I thought you might be a worthwhile chief, and here you are acting like a spoiled brat!"
"So what does that make you?" Hiccup asked, getting Astrid's astonished attention at last. She just gazed back at him frozenly while Hiccup continued on. "Your parents tell you to stop talking to someone and you just go along with it, no questions asked? They say it's for your future as a shield-maiden and you need to get rid of anything that might get in the way of that. If they told you to jump off of the side of the island 'cause of your future, would you do that too? You're just trying to please them, and my dad, and pretty much everyone else – I know how hard you've been pushing yourself in training, and I know it's so they'll think more of you. You're calling me a spoiled brat, well you're just a-a… lap dog!"
Just as he finished, he felt a hand grab him and shove him down to the floor, the hard stone colliding with his elbow and sending a sharp jolt of pain up his arm. That was all Astrid could take, all the insolence a little fishbone like him was going to give to her. Her parents were right, Hiccup was only going to be a hindrance to her just like he was to everyone else. Looking at him now, she could perceive his entire future, a life of incompetence, of embarrassment, of making things worse for everyone around him. From the moment she met him he had just held her back, wasted her time with foolish sentiment; she was a Viking, a shield-maiden, she was destined for greater things. She was going to be, no, she was already more than he could and was ever going to be.
"No one… calls me a lap dog… especially not you." She growled dangerously at him, walking over to where he laid in a fetal position on the ground. She was towering over him while he held his elbow and easing the throbbing in his arm, but still felt the surges of discomfort slither down his arm. With a glare she spoke. "That was for the attitude."
She then walked off to his worktable and picked up one of the drawings he had just completed, the makeshift diagram of the bouncing planter. She turned back to Hiccup and coldly glared at him, holding up the paper to give him a good view. With cruelly slow speed, she tore the paper in half and tossed the remains down upon him, Hiccup only watching in shock as the pieces fluttered down to the ground.
"And that… was for everything else."
She walked back over to him and held up her heavy practice axe, releasing her grip and letting it fall down upon his side. He felt the wooden pole puncture him and he let out a sharp gasp, bringing his hand to his side to soothe the pain. Astrid just walked off leaving Hiccup to writhe – that was the price he would have to pay for insulting her pride.
Gobber, who had just finished delivering repaired weapons to their owners, came in from the side of the forge, toting his now empty wheelbarrow. He managed to spot Astrid coming out from the opposite end, face fixed in a look of fury that could rival even Stoick the Vast's. With a cocked eyebrow he parked the wheelbarrow just outside the entrance and moved in. Pushing past the barrels of weapons still in need of repair and the shelves of tools with which to repair them in addition to weapon replacements, he found Hiccup. The boy laid there curled up on the floor just inside his workspace, trying to close himself in even further.
Gobber connected this to Astrid's foul mood as she was just leaving and sighed and shook his head. The boy obviously had done something to anger her – not that that wasn't believable. Hiccup had a knack these days for driving people up the wall; the boy could drive even a passive sheep into a frenzy. It seemed he learned the hard way that Helheim had no greater fury than a woman scorned. The smith walked in and lazily scooped up the boy by the hem of his tunic, Hiccup just continuing to stare down.
"So, ya want ta tell me wha' exac'ly happened here?" Gobber asked.
Hiccup just held his head down to the ground, glaring bitterly to avoid showing the smith his pathetic appearance. Bruised and beaten, with pain that confirmed the silent warning of his dreams, he only spoke in a miserable, angry tone.
"No."
A day of flying with Toothless the day after had left him in much better spirits for today, much more confident and prepared for the big moment. Though the skies above were overcast, looking as though it might rain, it did not affect his sunny spirits. He had completed the final touches on his device, making absolute certain that nothing could possibly go wrong, anticipating every possible problem and adjusting it for such, and now it was ready for its first test run. He let loose a breath of excitement from his nostrils, just letting the eagerness well up inside. He headed off to the fields just past the farmhouses, not letting the calm, chilling breezes signaling winter's approach slow down his pace.
Hiccup dragged out his device underneath his arm, letting the bottom piston drag along and dig a trail in the ground, hefting it back up once it started to slip from his grasp. Passing Vikings who were running their errands, carrying wood, cloth, and scrap metal to repair the still broken ships or distributing food to the workers saw the trail and looked to see the boy with his new invention. Almost instantly a million cries of annoyance and exasperation were heard, blending together in one massive outcry of protest. Most people were just staring angrily at him, shouting to the point where their lungs could burst from the strain, but some were fed up enough to try and chase after him and try to rip the mechanical menace out of his hands before he could wreak as much havoc as he did with the last one. Noticing that he was headed off in the direction of the fields only made them quicken their pace, worried that his invention would end up devastating their food supply.
Hiccup took notice of the Vikings chasing him and ran off, going as fast as his legs could carry him while holding the large metal object. Luckily his size and his lack of fat enabled much greater speed from the young boy, but the weight of the planter and the fact that it kept slipping out of his arms only made things more difficult. They ran past several rows of houses, the number of Vikings in pursuit of him only increasing once others caught a glimpse of the planter and feared the worst. Hiccup had to move in between several houses to try and shake off the larger, burly men; his bone-thin body for once providing an advantage. He was able to gain a few feet more distance between him and then, inwardly sighing in relief while the men had to take the longer way down several paths. It gave him a little more breathing room once he'd finally reached the fields, having the chance to test out his invention before anyone else could interrupt him.
He set the planter upright while grasping onto the handlebars, placing his feet atop the foot pegs and trying to steady himself when it wobbled and tipped front and back. He pulled on the bars to pull it back when it tipped forward and placed his foot back on the ground and pushed it when it tipped back. Once he had gotten his balance aligned and his nerves straightened out, he began bouncing in place to test out the spring, and to his delight found it to be working efficiently. So fat things were going well; maybe he should have built things like this from the start.
The most important part of the test, where he could see if it could plant seeds, was about to get underway when the Vikings finally caught them. They wasted no time in trying to take the device and rip it to pieces before it could do any damage, heading straight for him with clenched hands ready to tear the infernal device apart. Hiccup gasped and fell back from the planter landing on his seat on the ground, just watching as they approached like a herd of wild boars. Worried his device would be destroyed before he even got the chance to see if it worked or not, he crawled over to the planter and sat atop it, holding out with his hands and crying with as much force as he could muster.
"WAIT!"
The crowd stopped, just inches apart from him, looking no less angry and apprehensive as they did mere moments ago. Hiccup stood from his position, taking up the planter by the handles and holding it upright while leaning it on his shoulder. He gulped audibly looking at the sea of glares before him, feeling the bones in his knees turn to jelly and spikes jutting around inside his stomach. He always hated being the center of attention, having everyone look at him, especially with those eyes. It was one of the big reasons he didn't want to be chief, knowing that this was going to be common occurrence for him. Still, he had to prove that he was onto something, that his inventions could work, and he had already seen signs that they could, so he held his ground and spoke out.
"I-I know… my last invention didn't go well…" and he was greeted by roars of anger and complaint to agree with him. Though he couldn't hear the words, some were stating that they still sported the scars from that arrow launcher, pointing to the stitched up wounds on their arms and stomachs that just narrowly missed their vital organs. "But… I know this one will! I've already done a little testing with it, and it's working just fine. This one will work, I'm sure of it!"
"Bah!" Shouted one Viking. "What does that little runt know!? I say we smash the thing now before it does any damage!"
"I agree!" Shouted a female Viking. "You've seen what that last contraption o' his did! He's practically lendin' the dragons a hand in killin' us off!"
"I'm not trying to kill anyone!" Hiccup shouted, offended that they would think he would purposefully try to do them harm. "This isn't even a war device! You use it for planting seeds, and it'll do it a lot faster; just let me show you how it works!"
The Vikings all looked to each other – admittedly some seemed a bit bored after hearing the device's intended function. Their penchant for war and violence and their culture's heavy emphasis around it left them not entirely interested in anything that wasn't related to killing dragons. On the other hand, some were still skeptical that something could go wrong: as handy as that planter sounded, it was a Hiccup-invented item – enough could be said about that, and more than enough had. In silent consensus, the villagers decided overall to give the boy's invention a look at: they could worry about cleanup once the damage had been done. The crowd backed away to give the boy space to work, perhaps a few steps too many, in fear of the planter going rampant and willing to preserve themselves a few more years. From gaps in between the adults, some of the children started coming out, including Fishlegs, Snotlout and the twins who were already laughing at him, and Astrid. The girl gave him a hard glare and crossed her arms, just waiting with silent anticipation for the boy to once again make a fool of himself.
Seeing the kids his age and their enjoyment at his being put up on the spot stoked the fires of determination in him. With a glare locked with Astrid's he set himself upright on the planter once again, and began hopping in place once more. Some of the villagers' gazes actually started to soften, the device appearing for now like it was completely harmless. Hiccup had hardly noticed, keeping his attention fixed upon his current task.
"The way it works is… you bounce a hole into the ground for the seeds to be planted in." The piston bounced and dug into the soft earth, each hop applying Hiccup's meager weight into it, though the boy pressed down hard to compensate for this. With each bounce, the hole grew deeper and deeper, the tip sinking further in while the dirt around was pulled into the radius of the hole. After about three bounces, the hole had been rendered deep enough to continue.
"Then, with a press of a button, the seed gets planted into the ground." True to word, he pressed a button on the left handlebar, engaging the spring within the metal rod. With another bounce down, the tip ejected a small vegetable seed into the soil, revealed to the crowd once he bounced away. Though the mood was still something to be desired, a few people had given nods of approval at seeing the effectiveness of the device. It did seem like it could be helpful, the farmers in the crowd blissfully imagining how quickly their work could be done with this device.
"And now you cover up the seed and water it." He twisted back the other handlebar, engaging the wheel where the canisters were attached. The first canister dispensed a mound of dirt that plugged up the hole with a plop, evenly covering the hole to give no indication that it had ever been dug in the first place. The wheel then rotated and the second canister dispensed a small shower of water to nourish the seed.
Hiccup could barely contain his delight and excitement seeing his invention working properly. It was doing exactly what it was intended to do, even as the minutes rolled by and he had planted more seeds in. The crowd of Vikings watching was starting to lighten up, some were actually smiling seeing his device at work, gazing at its results in wonder and whispering words of praise to their nearby neighbors. It was all Hiccup could have wanted: for once the Gods were smiling down upon him, granting him good fortune. All of the darkness and sadness of the past couple months blown away in the happiness flooding through him, the exhilarating feeling like a blizzard with winds powerful enough to tear stone from the earth. The feeling was so strong it could almost match with the day Toothless took him flying into the air, though nothing could ever truly surpass that incomparable joy even the memory alone seemed to give. He could see this was only the beginning: now that people had finally recognized his genius, they could build more of his devices, more inventions to help the village. They could build machines to harness the wind, the water, all of nature for everything from agriculture to even their defenses; Hiccup didn't want to kill dragons, but he figured he could still help fortify the village from the raids. They could grow more food, be better prepared for the harsher months, and finally be able to build their homes more nicely, maybe even with more solid material like stone. He could see it now, a better, more advanced Berk that would be the envy of all the other islands, oh the elation his father would feel. Hiccup could almost hear his father actually say the words, 'son, I'm proud of you…'
But that might have been too much for some, knowing that Hiccup was going to be the star of the village. The other kids were still staring at him with looks of disgust, Astrid and Snotlout specifically; it was ridiculous that Hiccup was actually going to get recognition for his stupid machines. If he was going to get people to respect him, it should have been because he did things properly like the rest of them; he should have earned it for his skill as a warrior, his strength, with the head of a dragon as his trophy. On any island, in any tribe, that was what counted most: how strong you were and how many dragons you killed, and what kind – that was what defined the greatest, most honorable Vikings. That was how real Vikings like his father got to the top and made people admire and even worship him so. That was what Astrid thought, at least.
For Snotlout and the twins, it was just stupid seeing Hiccup be congratulated simply because he was Hiccup. The boy wasn't worth respect in any form or on any level, he was a worm compared to them – they were the perfect Vikings, they were the ones who should be praised, for being everything Vikings should have been. They who stood on a higher level compared to people like him, Snotlout especially. The large boy turned back and sneered at the crowd looking on in awe in Hiccup when it was clear, to him, that those gazes should have been pointing in his direction. He should be treated like a king for all the evident virtues he possessed, and yet they were gawking at some stupid twerp on a bouncing stick planting seeds.
Tuffnut was chuckling next to his sister, a wicked, demented grin on his thin face, hunched back with a pile of rocks in his hand. "Hey, bet I can nail that stupid stick dead center." He whispered to his sister, tossing the rocks in his palm.
"You're on…" Ruffnut whispered back.
Tuffnut reeled his hand back ready to toss the rocks, catching the attention of little Fishlegs. The chubby boy gasped; he felt he should have said something or grabbed Tuffnut's hand to stop him before it was too late. It would have been the least that he owed Hiccup for never bothering to lend him a hand in the previous months when Snotlout and the twins beating him up. But looking over at Snotlout now, he realized he ran the risk of getting picked on, of being ridiculed like Hiccup was. Fishlegs was too timid, too sensitive to handle all that abuse that he put his own cousin through each and every day; it was the reason he never bothered to help Hiccup at all. This time was no different; the boy just covered his eyes and prepared for the worst.
The stone shot through the air and collided right with the main rotational gear the canister were attached to. The impact had managed to knock a few gears loose inside, causing the spring connected to the piston to go out of control. Hiccup was now bouncing wildly all over the field, desperately clinging on to the handlebars for fear of falling off. The bounces were now much stronger, each one taking Hiccup up at least ten feat in the air and rising. He was tearing the field apart, splattering crumbs of dirt everywhere, the Vikings shielding themselves from the onslaught of sprayed soil.
The now-dysfunctional planter was bouncing straight for the crowd of Vikings, who all quickly broke apart and ran for cover while Hiccup yelled and screamed for dear life. Grabbing onto the dispensers he accidentally caused them to activate, squirting out soil and water in large amounts all over the villagers. The pressure burst the nozzles on the dispensers, even breaking their restraints and sending them flying through the air. People screamed in panic and fled for shelter while everything quickly descended into chaos, but in the midst of his own distress, Hiccup could see the other kids down below. Astrid was still glaring at him, mocking him through her gaze alone, while Fishlegs just covered his head to try and avoid the mess. Snotlout and the twins, however, were on the ground rolling around and laughing their heads off, delighting in his torment. Hiccup could see the spare rocks in Tuffnut's hand while the weasel clenched his chest to keep himself from laughing so much: he was the culprit.
The planter bounced through the town, going so high it landed on the rooftops of multiple houses and crashed through to the inside. Upon landing, he'd bounce straight up and out of the house only to crash down again and break a new hole in. With some houses it crashed down right on the support beams causing them to topple over themselves. Three houses ended up suffering this fate, and the owners were none too happy, even when Hiccup apologized.
Once he descended once more, Hiccup felt a strong hand tug at his backside and easily wrench him away from the planter, now shooting off on its own. Looking back he could see his father's red beard and even redder face focused on the machine. With a toss of his weapon in the air and a single glance for aim, he hurled a double-edged axe towards the machine; the blade spun through the air and collided with the planter, anchoring right in its main pole and sending it to the ground in a bent and crumpled heap. Turning around to face the crowd he shouted:
"What in Thor's name is goin' on!?"
The crowd all just turned to glare at Hiccup, the weight of their hundreds of stares of fury crashing down on him like a boulder to the head. Hiccup panted for breath and gazed up at his father, and never had he seen the man so angry in his life. Veins were actually forming along the sides of his face and his cheeks were so red it would have made blood seem colorless. He was huffing through his nostrils like a dragon prepared to blast its fire, and Hiccup anticipated a very similar occurrence from the chief.
"Of course…" He said tiredly but with as much control as possible, but Hiccup could feel the maelstrom of anger just waiting to be unleashed. Stoick stormed off with Hiccup in tow, the boy's last glance being of the amused children behind him.
The door of the Haddock household opened wide for Hiccup to be tossed down hardly onto the floor. Collapsing onto the wood, he ignored the flash of pain to look up at the angry grizzly bear of a man that was his father. He stood over Hiccup like a looming shadow, yet Hiccup could see the flash of anger in his seemingly glowing eyes of rage and shame. Hiccup cowered back slightly in the face of his, not his father at this moment, but his chief, backing along the floor with eyes widened with fear.
To say Stoick was utterly enraged was the understatement of perhaps the millennium; the man was ready to explode in a cataclysmic burst of fire and engulf the entire island. Hiccup had blatantly disobeyed his orders to do his assigned work in the forge and instead had created another one of those miserable machines of his, and once again caused trouble with it. If Hiccup was half as smart as he thought he was, then surely he would have been able to see the consequences of his actions. He knew the boy was naïve, even reckless, but this counted as outright stupidity. This boy in front of him was clearly a threat to himself and to others, and for a moment Stoick wondered if this child with all his dangerous thoughts would not be satisfied until the entire island would be destroyed. For his own sake, the boy had better have had a good explanation for his dangerous behavior, the chief thought.
"Well, out with it…!" Stoick snapped.
Hiccup could not bring himself to look at his father, too scared to think, to move, to even breathe. He kept his gaze locked on the floor and stayed completely silent, wishing he could just vanish completely. Silence was not the answer Stoick was expecting though, sadly.
"Do you enjoy making a fool of me?" Stoick asked, a furious growl in his tone. "Defying my orders left and right? Tarnishin' our name with your childish lunacy? What have I done to make you ignore my every word?" Again, Hiccup did not speak; really, he did not know what he could say.
"Let me tell you somethin', boy. When I was your age, I had much greater discipline; I obeyed my father to the letter, followed his every word, he told me to smack someone in the face, I said 'how hard?'" Stoick ranted, going on and on about his perfect childhood; Hiccup had to hold himself back with all his might to keep himself from groaning. It was, after all, only about the twentieth time this month he had heard it. "I never questioned him, even his most nonsensical commands, and it was because of that loyalty that I was able to win his respect and become one of the greatest warriors this island has ever seen. You, on the other hand, clearly know nothing of obedience and in turn you continue to disappoint me. Tell me, Hiccup, what will it take for you to understand that neither I nor this tribe will not accept failure?"
Hiccup did understand, it was one of the greatest driving forces behind his actions, what fueled his thoughts while building both the arrow launcher and the planter. He had to make sure everything was perfect, that nothing could possibly go wrong, and he was willing to accept the overwhelming pressure that came with it. To him his father's dedication to his grandfather was nothing short of blind loyalty, doing something that in all common sense you knew was ludicrous, so he'd tried to handle things differently. He wanted to prove that things could be done even if it wasn't in the Viking way, that there was nothing wrong with doing things differently and failure was only avoided by following one path. That belief that he could compensate for his weakness in this manner, still drove him, even now as he dared to gaze partly at his father.
"I-I tried to help. It… it was working..." Hiccup squeaked.
Stoick's slight glance at him prodded him to continue, and with a strong gulp, he did. "It was s-supposed to p-p-plant seeds faster, and it… it was w-working… But then Tuffnut…" His fingers dug into the wood in anger at the dimwitted bully's act of sabotage. "He threw a r-rock at it, and that's wha-"
"AGAIN with this!? Blaming others for your mistakes?" Stoick shouted. "I know for a fact I raised you better than that, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III! This selfish behavior of yours is completely unacceptable and I will stand for it no longer!"
There it was again; he was making himself bleed for this entire village, for this man in particular, and someone was calling him selfish. The fact that Snotlout and the twins could blame anything on him and get away with it scot-free was beside the point. Here his chief was now, insulting all his efforts, throwing them onto the ground just as he did with him and spitting on them. Now it was Hiccup's turn to be angry; never mind how it ended with Astrid, he wasn't going to let anyone get away with it. He was a human just like these people and he deserved to be treated fairly like they were.
"No… no, you… you don't get to say that. Not you, not after everything I've done!" He growled.
"And just what have you done? Making a mess of the village, injuring people and destroying their homes, ruining our food supply and neglecting your duties! You'd shame me further by saying this was all done on my part, you'd make this my burden to bear?" Stoick asked.
"It's not always about you! I'm trying to help everyone and for some reason it's never good enough!" He shouted.
"How dare you speak to me like that!" Stoick roared back. "I am your chief, and you will show me proper respect!"
"So just being a chief means people have to respect you, or else? Does that mean people are gonna start respecting me once I'm old enough and I'm chief, as opposed to now when I'm trying to do what I can to make Berk better and I'm getting yelled at and bullied by everybody for it?" Hiccup asked.
Stoick scoffed and raised himself back up to stare down at his son, putting on that unseen cloak of arrogant authority that only the truly humble like Hiccup could see. "That day is quite far off, boy – your actions have clearly proven that the honor of being chief is one you are far less than deserving of."
"Who even cares? Dad, I don't want to be chief!"
There, he said it, the thing he had been thinking of for the longest time. Hiccup had no intention of wasting his life sitting in some seat of power and letting it corrupt him to the point where he held himself so highly the earth could no longer be seen. He'd wanted to tell his father for the longest time that he was no leader and had no intention of being so to a bunch of jerks that openly mocked him daily either, and now it was out there. He felt bad that his father might be disappointed, he knew it was all the man could hope for him, but he wanted to live his own life and not be someone else's puppet. It took all the courage he had to muster to speak it as well, and Hiccup, though he held his stance, quickly felt the energy in his body running low, pouring his soul out into the words to increase their impact.
Stoick got the full force of it, though; he was floored, shocked beyond words that Hiccup wanted nothing to do with being chief, perhaps one of the greatest privileges a Viking could receive next to killing dragons. Hiccup probably didn't want anything to do with that either – it was aggravating to the chief, his son stepping on tradition, denouncing such honors so easily. Right then and there, he felt like slapping the child in the face, and could feel the muscles in his arm tense in preparation to do so. Such a blow would send the child flying across the living room, but he didn't care; he raised his arm up ready to deliver the blow, and Hiccup winced upon noticing.
But his words beat his reflexes. "You have no right… you can't just throw it away. This is your birthright, Hiccup! It's not a matter of choice!"
"Yes it is! You said it's my birthright so it should be mine to do whatever I want with it! You can just give it to someone else; you and I both know practically everyone else here is better suited for the job!" Hiccup shouted.
"So you'd throw it onto someone else, ignoring your responsibility!? This isn't something you can just walk away from, you cannot just rid yourself of your duties whenever you feel like it! A chief does not-"
"That's all you ever talk about, you don't care about anything else, not even me!" Hiccup countered, feeling his voice starting to break. "I do everything I can think of to try and make up for the way I was born. If I could change the way I look I would, but I can't, I just can't dad!"
"And now more excuses! Bah, disgraceful!" Stoick scoffed raising his hands up in defeat. "A chief does not get to complain about the unfairness of the world, he must seize justice with his own hands!"
"Well, I'm not-"
"A chief's duty is to his people, he must cast aside his own needs for theirs!"
"But-"
"A chief must be an example for his people, he must be unyielding, never showing weakness of any kind so that they will not succumb to hardship!"
"Will you please just-"
"A chief must be prepared to bear any pain for his people, protect them, be willing to pay any cost for them!"
"Can you let me-"
"You are going to be chief, and you are going to accept it gratefully! You are going to learn to act like a real Viking and cease this… this… being you!" Stoick ended finally, gesturing his hands out to signify his whole self, personality, interests, and all. "No more inventions, no more drawing, no more playing and gallivanting off doing whatever it is you do behind our backs, no more-"
"No more mistakes?" Hiccup said, outside of his father's knowledge repeating the very words he had used in his conversation with Gobber weeks earlier.
"Exactly… It's become obvious I haven't been training you hard enough and you've been getting' lazy because of all this freedom. That stops here and now: you'll be in the ring, ten hours a day, doing training that I've approved of." Stoick said, moving over to the fireplace and grabbing the war hammer that he had placed upon the mantle. He placed the object into Hiccup's hands, setting it upright when the boy teetered over from the weight of it. "I'm not about to let you throw our legacy aside because of your childish whims. You're a runt now, but when I'm done you will be the ultimate dragon slayer – beasts and men will cower before you, you will be the strongest of them all. You will be a real Viking."
Hiccup just stared straight up at his father for the first time their argument had begun, and it was clear that Stoick had no intention of going back on his word. The man had predicted that his child would be the strongest of them all, even as Hiccup lay there, barely breathing as an infant, so small it was questionable whether or not he would live. Valka certainly had her doubts, especially with the fact that he was born premature and she had been the one to hold him. But Stoick knew otherwise, he knew he would be the father of the greatest warrior the world had ever seen, he expected no less. Even now that that vision had become blurred with the pitiful growth his son had displayed, he still kept the image in his head. This was the destiny his son was meant to have, he was convinced of that.
Hiccup, on the other hand, wasn't; he just turned to look at the weapon in his hand, then to the axe secured in his father's belt. If his father had his way, then he would grow up to wield these same weapons coated in dragon's blood. He saw a glimpse of himself as an older man, one built just like his father, with a beard of auburn, muscles as hard as stone and a face riddled with scars, his eyes dulled from a life of carnage. He was standing in the cove where he and Toothless always met, under a sky filled with storm clouds, darkening the land below. There were scorch marks on the ground, and even some on his body, yet he felt no pain from them whatsoever. He looked around for any sign of Toothless, already being given a bad feeling from the stains of blood on his adult-sized tunic.
He turned around and there he saw the dragon, a sight that induced bile within his throat. There, lying in a pool of blood, limbs twisted and torn, wings shredded apart, was the young dragon. His face was frozen in mid-roar, his jaws opened wide and his slitted eyes still opened wide, trapped in an eternal final moment. Blood cascaded down his pink flesh, many of his scales having been removed, and his tailfin had been torn to pieces, one ripped clean off. He felt sick at the sight, trying to at least picture any other dragon there in his friend's place, but there remained the image of a dead Night Fury, its carcass completely mutilated. And he could hear the Vikings cheers of glory to his name, this bloodshed being a cause for celebration to those animals.
No amount of glory, or respect, was worth the life of his best friend. Hiccup was no dragon killer, and if that was what it took to be respected, if that was what served as the source of compassion to these people, then let he be known as 'Hiccup the Useless.' He gazed at his father hardly, and dropped the weapon to the round, letting it fall to the floor with a hard thud.
This time there was no restraint, Stoick's arm came down and gave Hiccup a heavy smack to the face with his giant hand, launching the yelping boy towards the stairs with his head hitting the bottommost step. Hiccup felt a trickle of blood run down the back of his head and gazed fearfully up at his father, shocked that he would hit him. Stoick was breathing hard, the rage ready to burst out in full at last.
"Why do the gods spite me!? WHY DID I HAVE SUCH A USELESS, IDIOT CHILD!?"
Hiccup let the restraints break loose as well, letting the tears fall down like tiny waterfalls. Stoick was utterly disgusted at the sight, and turned to face the door, ready to just get away from his difficult child and assess the damage his stupid contraption had caused. Just as he was about to open the door, though…
"Why…" Hiccup asked in tears. "Why did mom have to go away… why'd she have to die?" He whispered so quietly with rage and pain no child should ever have carried within them.
"WHY COULDN'T IT HAVE BEEN YOU!?"
Stoick's eyes were wide open with devastation, the horrible question echoing throughout both the walls of the house and his mind. His own child had just wished for his death out of pain and anger, feelings he had obviously placed within him. He felt his heart shatter into pieces just as it had when Valka was taken to her doom that fateful night, and he could imagine her spirit glaring in shame down at him, screaming in rage just as Hiccup had for his callousness. He had sworn he would protect their child and here he had done the complete opposite, he had torn the remainder of their family apart. He turned around to face Hiccup, but the child was gone, small puddles of blood and tears all that remained of him.
Hiccup had already run outside, crying his eyes out rushing through the rain that had been falling on the island for most likely the whole duration of their fight. He rushed to the forge, to lock himself in his little workspace and never come out again. This time he didn't care about the hurt he might have inflicted, he was done with being charitable towards such ungrateful people. This time, he was the one who would get to cause hurt with his words, this time he could be the one who broke someone's heart, and in his father's case, he hoped it burned. He finally got to the forge and just locked the door behind him, then just huddling into the corner and bawling his eyes out. Hiccup had planned on staying there for the whole night, possibly for a few days, but fate would not have it.
At that moment, he heard a loud sound from behind the walls. A loud, shrieking roar.
FYI, I don't know if the idea for the planter came from some subconscious memory. I feel like I just invented it right on the spot. Which is what I do for most of these conversations, so yeah, I'm willing to just roll with it.
Anyways for those that are getting sad, don't worry! Next chapter we finally start getting somewhere. As the title and summary suggest, I am not writing this just to tell a 'woe is Hiccup' story – there'd be no HicTooth fluff if that were the case. And for those that might be hoping for a little Hiccstrid in this or the re-write, don't. You want to read some Hiccstrid, go somewhere else – there are literally thousands of those on this site. And just as many that have Astrid as your main character, for all her fans out there.
Anyways, review, favorite, follow! Like I said, next chapter's where we wrap this up and get the ball rolling. And it will definitely be on time.
