Ten: A Dead Man

The water was freezing. Despite the fact that the weather was unseasonably warm and even the ground had thawed, the Sullen Sea was bitterly cold and as he hit, Hiccup felt his breath stolen. It was the one thing he had failed to take into account-but this was the only option he had. All other hopes had been dashed and his friend and partner in misery had been killed. Dying in the cold sea was better than slowly rotting of cold or hunger or despair in cell 34.

As soon as the water closed over his head, he lashed out with the hook and the chisel, slicing into the thick material and ripping a hole through large enough to shimmy through. Then he dropped the chisel and stuck the hook into his waist band before swimming upwards as strongly as he could…notwithstanding the fact he had a metal leg. His chest was burning and he could feel his limbs growing heavy but he thrashed away from the cliff as far along the coast as he could manage before he needed to surface to try to get out of sight. Yet when he finally broke surface, he squinted up at the cliff edge and saw that the 'burial' party had already left, heading back inside. He was safe…but was going to get hypothermia and drown if he didn't get out of the water. But the cliffs were sheer and steep and the ferocious rocks promised a vicious death if he tried to swim to them and clamber out. So the struck out, suddenly finding himself surging away from the shore and realising he was caught in a rip current. Every instinct was to fight but he knew that was the stupidest thing to do so he lay back and floated as he tried to work out which way to try to break to get away. But as the shore receded rapidly, his limbs grew heavier and heavier and it was all he could do was to kick his legs slowly and remain afloat.

"AHOY!"

His eyes snapped open and he raised his head…to see a small boat only a few yards to his right. He had missed them, almost dozing and he frowned, forcing his foggy thoughts to sharpen to enough focus to answer. Where was he again? He raised an arm and waved.

"'HOY!" he managed. A pair of heads poked over the dark green rails and inspected him.

"You need a hand, my good fellow?" a friendly voice called. Wearily he nodded and waved again.

"Y-y-y-yes…" he managed as the two heads conferred-and the a boat-hook was lowered down. Blinking, Hiccup managed a few feeble strokes that got him a little closer…and then his hand closed on Gobber's hook in his waist band, using it to snag on the book hook and hanging on for dear life with both hands as he was drawn in close and then finally fished unceremoniously from the frigid sea. Lying on the desk, his body heaving with the effort, the cool air just exacerbated his hypothermia and he began to shiver, his teeth chattering and head down.

"Th-th-thanks…" he managed as a blanket was placed over his shoulders. A gruff female voice was loud his ears.

"You're freezing," she said. "We'll get you inside."

"Uh…sis?" the male voice piped up. "You know what he is?" There was a pointed gesture at the dark shape of the island.

"Yeah…but no one ever escapes from Freezing-To-Death so who would believe us?" the woman said. "And anyway, we're not the boss of him. If he wants to run away from there, we're probably bound to help."

"Why?"

"Well, we're not exactly law-abiding, are we?" she told him, trying to rub some life into Hiccup's frozen limbs.

"A valid point, sister Nut," the male voice said. "Why is he holding a hook?"

"Maybe he wants to be a pirate?" the female asked, her hands closing on his shoulders. But he was shivering so hard and his legs were so weak that he couldn't move. "Give us a hand, Tuff? He needs to get inside and he's a dead weight!"

"F-F-Fishbone…" Hiccup managed through his chattering teeth. "'nd alive…" The male moved to his other side and between them, the two manhandled the shivering man into the cabin and sat him on the solid wooden bench bolted to the wall by the window.

"You know, that won't do," the male, Tuff, said. "I mean, we already have Fishlegs…we can't have a Fishbone as well…I mean, if we called Fish, half the crew would answer…"

"But already if you call Nut both of us would answer so it would be fairly symmetrical," the woman answered, still rubbing Hiccup's shoulders.

"A good point, Ruffnut," Tuff said solemnly. "Fishbone it is…"

"N-n-n-no…" Hiccup stammered through his chattering teeth. "Am f-f-f-fishbone…n-n-not c-c-called…"

"Awww…now that's unfair, confusing us…" Ruff whined.

"Unacceptable," Tuff said. "Throw him back in!" Eyes widening, Hiccup jerked forward, his hand clamping around the male's wrist.

"P-p-p-please…" he begged, eyes wide and the male stiffened.

"It was a joke…" he said urgently, not realising the man had taken it seriously. "Boy, you really haven't had it good, have you?" Hiccup shook his head, his head dropping.

"It's okay-you're safe with us," Ruff told him, sitting by his side. "We won't turn you in. We'll get you warm and feed you up and find you some clean clothes…" Tuff cleared his throat. "Well, clothes."

"Th-th-thanks," Hiccup mumbled as Tuff went to a grimy coffee pot and sloshed out a tin mug of the black viscous liquid. Steam curled from the drink and the male pressed it into Hiccup's shaking hands.

"This'll put hairs on your chest," he said confidently as Hiccup took a sip. His eyes slammed open and he forced himself to swallow, the drink warming him.

"And a h-heart attack…" he managed, the chattering of his teeth easing a little. "Strong…"

"Thorston blend!" the male said proudly. "I make it myself…" Hiccup took another large gulp and sighed.

"H-haven't h-had a h-hot drink f-for over a d-decade…" he admitted, hunched over the mug, his long fingers wrapped around the warm metal. "S'good…"

"No it's not," Ruff told him dryly. "It's terrible. But my brother always wanted to be a barista so we're stuck with his incompetent attempts to create the perfect coffee…once he made Fish pass out from caffeine overdose…"

"W-wait…y-you actually h-have someone c-called F-Fish on y-your c-c-crew?" Hiccup asked, feeling the sensation returning a little to his hands and foot. Ruff nodded. She was lanky with a long face, grey-blue eyes and long pale blonde hair in three thick waist-length braids. Her brother, Tuff, was the same shape with pale brown eyes and long blond dreadlocks. Both wore brown leather pants and boots, green shirts and darker green vests.

"Yeah, he's our resident encyclopaedia and respectable person," she admitted. "He's in the wheelhouse, steering."

"Y-you're smugglers?" the auburn-haired fugitive asked and they nodded, both grinning wildly.

"Welcome to the Barf'n'Belch!" Tuff said.

oOo

Hiccup's eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly, completely disorientated. He wasn't lying in the cold stone floor of his cell, the room was moving and he was relatively warm with a thick furry blanket tucked around his skinny shape. Frowning, he pushed himself up into a rocky sitting position. Instinctively, he felt for the oilskin packet that had been tucked into his shirt-and his eyes widened in sudden horror as he found it was gone. He looked around frantically-and then relaxed as he saw it tucked on the tiny desk that was hard against the bunk bed. He sagged in relief.

"Morning," an unfamiliar voice said.

He stiffened and his eyes widened. Trying to curl back, he felt wood at his back and the strangeness made his body tense further. A shape moved into view, a husky guy about his height with solid thick body and rather short legs, all topped by a round face with kindly blue-green eyes, a pudding bowl blond cut and a bushy moustache. The man gave a small wave.

"I'm Fishlegs," the man introduced himself.

"H…" Hiccup began and then his brain cut in and he closed his eyes. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third had been convicted of treason about eleven years ago and condemned to die in Jotunheim. And, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, he was still in there. And would never emerge. He needed another option. "Ingen Dodmann," he said.

"No one dead man," Fish translated automatically and then he smiled and offered his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Ingen." Warily, Hiccup leaned forward and grasped the warm chubby hand and felt a firm and reassuring grip as they shook hands.

"I'm pleased to be here," he admitted. "Um…where are we?"

"Moored in Hangman's Cove off Glacier Island," Fishlegs explained. "You pretty much passed out after your coffee-not an unusual reaction to Tuff's barista skills-and we put you down here in my cabin. There's a bit of a storm blowing out there so the Barf'n'Belch is safer here. Of course, it delays us delivering our load but better to be late than not at all." Hiccup frowned.

"You don't seem like a usual smuggler," he commented. Fishlegs gave a sad smile.

"Yeah, people say that a lot," he admitted. "I grew up with the twins as friends and there really wasn't any work going where we were. I mean, I love botany and reptiles and birds but I couldn't afford college and they refused me a scholarship I qualified for because they needed the money for the relative of the First Minister to go-even though she didn't even need one." There was a brief edge to his voice which just as quickly passed. "So there really wasn't much option. And the twins wanted to be smugglers because they had a great uncle Gorstag who was a smuggler and it sounded cool."

"And is it?" Hiccup asked politely, trying to assess the man. He seemed kindly enough but his ability to trust had been completely eroded by his experiences.

"No, not really," Fishlegs sighed. "The twins are crazy and dangerous enough in their way but they really aren't focussed enough to be big players. Or ruthless enough to get us a reputation to play with the big boys. So we get low value missions and ripped off by most people. And the really serious groupings, like the Outcasts and the Trader Consortium, are really dangerous and I do worry that they may decide to wipe us out if they sense we are a threat." Hiccup swung his legs round and rubbed his left leg, wincing. The cold had made the stump ache and a few sharp phantom pains were stabbing him. Gobber had explained all about them but it hadn't made them any less excruciating and they had become old friends in the frigid cell. "Are you okay?"

Hiccup looked up at the concern in the man's voice and another stab of pain-this time in his heart-almost took his breath away. Gobber had sounded exactly the same when they hit and he could still recall the man's arm around his shoulders and his warm, experienced fingers kneading the scarred flesh to try to ease cramps and alleviate the pain. He blinked.

"Fine, thanks," he said tonelessly as Fishlegs frowned, then rose and opened the little drawer in the small desk and fished out a bottle. He handed it to Hiccup.

"Try these," he said. "I got them when I had an abscess. They may help." Warily, Hiccup peered at the bottle, found that they were painkillers and then tipped two out and swallowed them.

"Thanks," he said more genuinely. The big man gave a happy smile.

"Look, we need to get you some food and try to find some clothes," he said. "I'm making breakfast in the galley…wanna come?" Nodding, Hiccup levered himself up.

"Gladly," he said and followed the man out. The boat was bobbing slightly and Hiccup found his sea-legs were pretty solid as they clambered up to the galley, a narrow room that was almost completely filled by the husky Fishlegs. Managing to squeeze himself into the corner, Hiccup watched the man brew coffee, fry eggs and bacon and bread and cook beans and serve him up a huge tin plate of food. Eyes widening, Hiccup launched in ravenously, hunched over the plate as Fishlegs began his own meal, watching the skinny man with sympathetic eyes.

Fed and warmed by coffee, the men headed for wheelhouse and Hiccup peered at the charts with interest, his eyes drifting to a shape that he recognised from the map he had pored over for so many long hours in the cell. He was so close…but for now, he needed to regain his strength and try to get a means of transportation so he could travel to follow the clues on his own. Fishlegs tried a couple of times to start the engines and then he sighed as there was an unpleasant grinding noise.

"Again with the engine," he sighed as Hiccup frowned. "Barf'n'Belch is an old ship and her engines are rather…temperamental…"

"Au contraire, my fishy friend," Tuff said, appearing at the door and yawning. "She is a he."

"But ships are always female," Fishlegs pointed out.

"Not this one," Ruff argued, appearing beside her brother. "He's a boy all the way…"

"He's not moving anyway," Fishlegs replied with forced patience. Hiccup raised a hand.

"Um…I may be able to help…" he suggested tentatively. The twins were scowling at Fishlegs.

"How?" Tuff asked rudely. "Unless you happen to be a kick-ass mechanic or engineer, I doubt you can help." Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ahaha…funny thing that…I'm both," he told them as they all started at him. "Look, I was wrongly condemned and have spent the last five years escaping but I am still an engineer. I built my aircraft from the ground up. He was a hulk and I basically rebuilt everything…" His voice had grown enthusiastic and his emerald eyes gleamed. The twins shared a look.

"Wow-and we believe you," Ruff said speaking for both of them. "You wanna take a look at the beating heart of our beautiful vessel?" He nodded and she beckoned him to follow her. They went down the hatch at the rear and he found himself in the engine room. Ruff shrugged. "Fishy has tinkered without much success and we try to keep my brother away because frankly, how he managed to dress himself in the morning is a miracle…anything you could do would be a help, to be honest." Hiccup nodded and frowned, then lifted the hatch, then peered at the engine. He looked at her.

"Any tools?" he asked and she found him the box, and then, adjusting the light, he leaned forward and began to explore.

Three hours later, grimy and streaked with oil, he sat back, satisfied. He had stripped back the main guts of the engine, cleaning, tightening and relubricating. There were a few old parts that would need changing in the next six months but the engine was basically sound. He wiped his forehead and carefully replaced the engine cover.

"Any good?" Ruff asked from behind him. He almost jumped and wiped his hands on his ragged pants.

"She'll do," he said. "Try her now." Ruff hauled him to his feet and they went up to the wheelhouse. Tuff was at the wheel and eagerly started the engine-to an immediate response, far smoother than it had sounded before. The twins high-fived and Fishlegs squeaked in happiness.

"Thank you!" Tuff yelled and threw a fierce hug around Hiccup. Ruff joined in, murmuring 'Thorston sandwich' as they squeezed him. He looked helplessly at Fishlegs, who was chuckling.

"I think they like you," the husky man said, assuming the wheel. "And this sounds much better than I've heard it."

"HIM!" the twins argued. Fishlegs chuckled and the twins glanced over.

"You know…I think you could be a good…no, great addition to our awesome crew," Tuff asked. "And if you're not in a hurry to get somewhere else…d'you wanna join us?"

There was a pause and Hiccup looked over at the twins and Fishlegs. They could all guess where he came from-and they didn't seem to care. All of them seemed reasonable though on the wrong side of the law…and it didn't have to be for ever. Just until he managed to get his bearings and recover a bit.

"I think…the life of a smuggler is just the career I've always been dreaming of," he told them dryly. The three all flung themselves at him and he found himself almost crushed by the multiple hug…but also, curiously relieved.

"Welcome to the crew," Fishlegs said.