Gift or Curse?
Hiccup Haddock can't be sure whether his strange powers over winter are a gift...or just a terrible, terrible curse. Plot of Frozen (with a few changes) characters of HTTYD. Rated T for child abuse and a mentally unstable parent a.k.a, two of the changes.
Chapter 10: Castle Breach
A/N: Sup. Um. Yeah. This chapter took me awhile, but it is a bit longer than most of my chapters. Being completely honest, I like it. At least the parts with Stoick and Hiccup. The parts with Astrid are a bit short, because I meant to alternate between Astrid and her mother and Hiccup and Stoick, but the thing was, I got so into one of the Hiccup Stoick parts that I forgot to write in a scene with Astrid XD
Stoick's initial reaction?
Awe at the handiwork, if we're being completely honest. He stared up for a second at the glistening purple, white and blue that shone brightly in the dazzling sunlight. He shaded his eyes against the sun as he looked up at it; the sheer beauty of the structure took his breath away.
And then he shook off his wonder with a scowl. Those gleaming towers and turrets housed a truly brutal monster. He couldn't afford to get wonder-struck by good architecture. He had to focus. He had come here for a very specific reason. He couldn't afford to get sidetracked.
He took another step forward; the ice creaked under his weight. He looked down at the steps and noted the snowflake imprint in each.
Yet another reason Hiccup deserved to be punished.
He needed to be reminded that using his powers was wrong; that it could kill people, just like it had killed his mother all those years ago. Stoick's renewed determination pushed him forward, up the glacial steps and to the great, purple double doors. The snowflake imprint was much larger here, spanning across both doors.
Stoick reached out for the door, the slightest hesitation creeping in as his fingers met the cold, hard surface. He pushed it open, at the same time pushing back all of his hesitations and fears. He couldn't afford to be afraid. He thought of Astrid Hofferson, the girl who had visited him last. She had come back ice cold and shaking. She had come back with a frozen heart.
But that was her, Stoick reminded himself with a shrug. It wasn't like Hiccup would dare do that to him; or if he did, Stoick would make him regret it.
"What?" Astrid's whisper broke the silence. "What are you talking about? A frozen heart? I mean…that's…that's…"
"In the times when the gods still walked the earth in their human forms, there were evils such as frozen hearts all the time." Her mother looked at her pointedly as she smoothed her daughter's hair again, forcibly reminding Astrid of all the times she would sit by the fire with her parents and hear tales of the gods. Myths like these had been fresh in her mind in her childhood, but thinking back on it now, a frozen heart sounded so preposterous.
She glanced down at herself, her hands tightly curled into fists. "'True love will thaw a frozen heart'," she recited flawlessly. "But, Mom, I don't think—
"Sweetheart, this is dangerous." Mrs. Hofferson responded sternly. "An act of true love is normally thought to be a kiss between two people who are deeply in love. I need you to think if there is anybody out there who could cure you of this. Isn't there anybody out there for this?"
Stoick was rather surprised to reach the doors of Hiccup's castle unharmed and with no attacks, but he had little time to remark upon his relief; he opened the purple double doors and slid carefully inside the icy building, his breath misting from the freezing air.
He glanced around the slightly eerie foyer, turning a full circle to take in the full beauty of the palace built here.
The second time around, he caught a flash of warm color that didn't belong in this place; glancing around for it again, he realized his son was standing there, frozen with fear, his hands shaking. He had discarded his Berk clothing for sparkling armor made of ice. Spiked shoulders and a glittering cloak swirling with tiny snowflakes and icicles hanging from every staircase, a light dusting of snow in the boy's hair…
Though he looked so much more natural here, surrounded by his true element, he didn't look happy. He looked terrified. His hands were shaking; he reached out and gripped the wall to steady himself. Stoick half-expected him to say something defensive and sharp, but the other part of him expected Hiccup to come forward with his head bowed and his hands up in submission.
Hiccup did neither of these things, however. He stared at his father in horrified shock for another instant and then shook his head slightly, in utter disbelief that the man could have found him here. And then he turned around and ran, up the staircase, down several hallways and weaving in and out through rooms, trying desperately to lose Stoick in the icy maze.
Stoick gave a startled cry, but this only seemed to make Hiccup move faster. The Viking chieftain then did the only thing that came naturally; he chased his son, up the staircase and through the hallways.
Hiccup glanced behind him only once and turned to keep running, throwing open another door. This room had only one other pair of doors, thrown wide open to reveal the balcony they led to.
The boy's breath hitched as he realized he had nowhere to go; there was no escaping his father anymore. There were no clever tricks to pull, no defense he could offer.
So much for you can't hurt me anymore.
His father entered the room after him, looking around furiously and spotting the boy crouched fearfully against the wall. Hiccup took a deep breath.
Stoick made a move towards him, taking a step forward, his hands curling into fists, one going automatically to his sword.
"Please," Hiccup pleaded desperately, losing his footing as he frantically stumbled backward, meeting the wall of ice behind him. With nowhere to go, he simply crouched there in terror, awaiting the blow that he knew would end his life.
Astrid thought. She considered it as she ran through everything that had happened and somewhere in the back of her brain, a voice quietly insisted that she could cure the frozen heart. The answer was right in front of her. The problem was also the solution.
But her brain was moving slowly today and for some reason, with the answer on the tip of her tongue, she found she didn't quite know it.
The problem is the solution. Think, Astrid. You know the answer to this.
As Hiccup crouched there against the wall, about to bring his arms over his head, about to try and protect himself from the blows, he realized Stoick had already reached him and that he wasn't reaching out to hit him; rather, he was reaching out to grab him.
He did often use one hand to hold the boy still while he hit him with the other, but this time he grabbed the boy by the wrist and, instead of bringing up his other hand to land a blow, he merely began dragging the boy back towards the door.
The lack of violence so far was surprising and, to Hiccup, at least, encouraging. "Where are we going?" he tried to break free from his father's grip, but the man was too strong.
"I'm taking you back to Berk," Stoick snarled. "So you can stop the winter."
"Let me go!" Hiccup tried to sound forceful and not scared at the mere idea of having to go back to that hellhole. Again, he tried to jerk away, but the chief held him fast.
He allowed himself to be dragged painfully along for a few more moments, wincing slightly at the pain of Stoick's firm grip. And then he glanced down at his hand, the one Stoick did not hold in a death grip…and he hesitated. He stared down at his palm, all covered with snow and glowing a brighter and brighter blue as the power became undone all over again, what little control he had managed to gain fleeing in his terror and hesitation.
By that point he knew that using his powers around his father was going to be an unavoidable task, but it always had been. And this time, he thought, his heart beating rather hard as he tried to think only of getting away and not of Stoick's reaction to him doing it, this time his father wouldn't hit him. He couldn't hit what he couldn't catch.
His heart hammering away in his chest, he turned his hand on Stoick, silently willing the ice to come, willing it to happen. And when it did, when Stoick was temporarily disoriented from the ice blast and his grip on his son's wrist slackened, Hiccup broke free and ran.