Disclaimer: I do not own How to Train Your Dragon, Rise of the Guardians, Brave, Tangled or any other movie characters seen in this story. No copyright infringement intended. All rights reserved to Cressida Cowell, William Joyce, DreamWorks, Pixar, Disney etc.
Warnings: AU, OOC, language, underage drinking, past sexual abuse, past abductions, past semi-slavery, past verbal abuse, past mental abuse, past emotional abuse, heavy angst at some points, underage drug use, bullying, suggestive themes [more warnings will be taken off/added as the story progresses] [my story may/may not contain triggers, it all depends on your personal experience in life and how it affected you.]
Notes: I hope you all enjoy this story, and please review, favorite, and follow! Thanks for all of the favorites and follows! Thanks so much for all of the positively wonderful reviews! There isn't anything too alarming in this chapter, I think. I've skipped to Thanksgiving in this chapter since even I've forgotten where the heck I was in the timeline. I sincerely apologize for taking so long to update this story. I had lost my muse and inspiration to write so I had left the story alone for a while. I'm sorry. Also, I'm also posting this on Archiveofourown (ao3); under the pseud of fadingmemories (dreamingunderthetstars).
One again, I am sorry.
A Quick Question: Should I do a Recap in the beginning for you guys? And a little "preview" at the end of the chapter? Yes? No? I don't care?
This is not Beta'd so I apologize for any mistakes.
To faisyah865: Yup, it was all the prologues and intro to everyone character and background. The only background I haven't really touched on is Merida's, though I'll dig into that really soon. I love HiJack, probably more than I should to be honest, lol, but I really don't know. I don't think Hiccup is ready for romance at this stage in his life, given how he was treated in the past. To be honest, when I first planned this story, it was going to be a HiJack pairing.
To Kitsu Maxwell: Aw, thanks. I know, I love Jack and his worry as well.
To x1tear1x: Thanks! I love new readers!
To Love Laugh Live Your Life: Thanks for your kind words. Yes, it does change my story line which is what I intended to do. Neither have I – angst sometimes makes me have slight anxiety because of the feels. I've, not once, planned on killing on Hiccup or any love interest at all. I hate it when authors kill off the protagonist, it just ruins the mood and everything and ugh. Yeah, I was going to read Divergent but then someone spoiled it for me and said she died and I was like, "well, guess what book I'm not reading…" Thanks for the review!
:: The Land of the Dragons ::
{Eleven}
Hiccup's fainting spell was soon forgotten by the people of Burgess.
Life moved on.
The clocks continued to tick.
The dragons continued to roar and fly.
Hiccup found himself standing in front of a grave that Thursday morning. It was Thanksgiving Day and he was back in Berk, the place of many firsts and ends. Most would visit their loved ones during their birthdays or Christmas, but Hiccup knew that Thanksgiving was Fishlegs' favorite holiday. He traced his fingers nimbly on the carved marble, on Fishlegs' name, and he breathed a trembling breath. It was cold, like always, but Hiccup wore nothing but his normal jeans and light long sleeve shirt. It was raining, like always, but Hiccup was used to Berk's daily rainfall specials.
"It kills me sometimes," Hiccup whispered against the whirling wind, parroting his favorite author, Markus Zusak. "How people die." [1]
Fishlegs Ingerman
"In a land of dragons, you can do anything, be anything – but most of all, you will always be free."
August 6th 1998 – March 25th, 2008
His eyes blurred and the wind screamed in his ears but when he felt a hand on his shoulders, Hiccup didn't know when he'd fallen on his knees in front of Fishlegs' grave. The boy who shared his passion of dragons, of the winged reptiles, and searched hours and hours with him online and in libraries for more information on the exotic, hypnotic, majestic creatures' people thought so little of. They shared sleepovers with dragon plushies in the first grade, whispered on the playground on the newest dragon book, swapped theories about the myths through emails and crumbled notes.
Fishlegs was a brother.
He was also dead.
Nothing but decayed bones and rotting flesh.
Nothing but a memory, a distant smile, bright eyes, and a boisterous laugh.
Fishlegs was another angel, just like Gustav and all those other lives.
Snotlout's voice is far away from his ears even though he hovers over him, like a guardian angel, like he always does when Hiccup travels to Berk. Hiccup is still touching the gravestone gently, as if the last remnant of Fishlegs would crumble to dust particles if aggravated and roughly handled. Hiccup doesn't fight Snotlout when the older teen scoops him up bridal style, soaking wet from the pouring rain and shivering from the stinging cold.
He numbly accepts the mug of hot chocolate shoved into his hands once he's inside, placed in front of a roaring hearth, wrapped in warm blankets. He doesn't drink it, though, even though his father gently tries to coax him to at least swallow a gulp. Chocolate reminds him of his mother. A mother he once loved. A mother he once mourned. A mother he now hates. The Haddock house in Berk is the biggest and the oldest, since long ago when Vikings first sailed on this tiny rock island in the middle of nowhere, the Haddock lineage were Chiefs of Berk. Everyone here has Viking heritage, whether it was Mildew the Hermit on his lonely hill and his sheep, or Gobber the Belch in the ancient forge. There are no new buildings in Berk, the old wooden Viking homes were only fixed and enhanced.
Berk is full of Scandinavian history, of buried Viking treasures in the lush forest surrounding it or on the small beach they had.
The hot beverage cooled and soothed his throat as he drank it. Hiccup pretended he didn't see the praising looks sent at him by his father, Gobber, and other adults in Berk. One might wonder why his father chose to leave Berk, his hometown, when the woman he loved slapped the divorce papers down on the breakfast table, stating she wanted full custody of their son, and refused to compromise or explain why. Maybe the memories were too overwhelming for Stoick the Vast to handle or maybe he didn't want to be reminded of everything he'd lost and would never have again. Hiccup didn't know – wouldn't know because his mother was untouchable territory. His father never brought her up and Hiccup didn't want to sully his tongue by daring to speak of the woman he used to love but was betrayed by.
Hiccup knew his father knew that he was kidnapped but what the people of Berk didn't tell him was that Hiccup was gone for a near year, instead of three months. No one knew why Valka chose to report him a missing child in January, instead of when he was first kidnapped. They assumed the police were already told and searching. Hiccup never dared to think and ponder about the reasons – he didn't want to feel the draining betrayal, didn't want to bear the thought of his mother lying because she wanted him gone, wanted him to suffer in the cruel, merciless hands of Drago Bludvist.
Tuffnut poked him, grabbing his attention. "We're all going to Snotlout's house if you want to come – you know, get away from all the adults."
Hiccup turned back to stare at the burning embers. "I'm fine. You go on ahead."
Thanksgiving is boring without Cami to sit next to him or Astrid to try and get him interested into a sport or Fishlegs—
Oh, Fishlegs…
His phone buzzed. Unlocking it, he saw that he had a text message from Heather.
Heather
Hey, Hiccup! Happy Thanksgiving!
Hiccup
Same 2 u. what's up?
Heather
I'm with the family, helping out. Though, it's a hard day.
Hiccup
Tell me about it. Memories?
Heather
Memories.
There was nothing left to be said. Drago was exhaustingly gruesome during any sort of holidays, as if he hated the mere fact of joy and love and giving thanks for everything you had. It was a chore to simply guess what kind of mood he was in and if it would end with you cowering on the ground, his towering silhouette above you, shouting how worthless you were and how I should just kill you now!
Hiccup shook his head. It was supposed to be a happy day. He should be grateful that he was surrounded by family members, third cousins and uncles and whatnot. Yet here he was, sitting in front of a roaring heath, drowning in the misery of his memories, ones he tried so desperately to forget. Hiccup saw that the teens were getting herded back inside of the old Great Hall, which was a place where their Viking ancestors held council and meetings and decided ones fate, with scolding looks. Either they tried something or the adults wanted them all in the Great Hall this holiday, instead of scattered around the historic village.
Younger children giggled at the embarrassed faces of Berk's resident teens as they shuffled morbidly into the Great Hall, as if they were about to be condemned a death sentence. Hiccup turned back to the hearth, pondering.
"Wake up," whispers Tiana. "Wake up, Hiccup. Please."
Groggy, Hiccup opens his eyes and blinks. "Tia? What's going on?"
"It's a horrible day, today," she murmurs. "Come on. Up and at 'm, little one. I was given orders to…ready you."
"R-ready me?" Hiccup breathes out, wide awake. He bolts upward from his makeshift bed on the floor. He wasn't "behaving" and therefore was given a threadbare blanket and a simple pillow case with little fluff inside of it as a bed. He was forced to sleep in the coldest room, and thought he'd die from frostbite or lack of warmth, barely getting a wink of sleep as he shivered and curled into the smallest ball possible. "Ready me for what?"
"I don't know," replies the dark-haired, beautiful sixteen-year-old. There were tears in her eyes. "I don't know, Hiccup."
Hiccup knew she was lying but didn't call her out on it. Sometimes, it was better to feign ignorance.
Gently, Tiana helped him to his wobbling, numb feet and guided him out of the Cold Room and down hallways before pushing him into the bathroom, with a set of clothes in his arms. "Make it quick," she orders. "But not too quick. He hates it when you're dirty. You have thirty minutes, little one."
"Ok," Hiccup responds obediently, knowing that someone is listening. Someone is always, always listening. The halls have ears. The door clicks closed but never locks. It's against the rules for a door to be locked unless one of the adults locks it. Once he was showered and clean, he towels himself off and blinks at the clothing. Timidly, he asks Tiana, whom he knows is waiting outside the door. "Er…Tia? W-what am I supposed to do with this?"
"Put it on."
"But…"
"Hiccup, please, for both of our sanities – put it on."
Whispering and downtrodden, he blinks. Just by the outfit, he already knows what's going to happen tonight.
"Ok."
Ruffnut whispered his name urgently, jolting him out of his reverie. "Yeah, Ruff?" asked Hiccup. "What's up?"
"You looked depressed again," she said, bluntly. In a way only she could. "Snotlout was starting to come over here but Dogsbreath held him up."
Ah – good old, Dogsbreath. Snotlout's best friend, captain of the football, rugby, and co-captain of the wrestling team (that position went to dear Snotlout). He was a tall, broad-shouldered, muscled jock who had decent enough grades but certainly wasn't as smart or "nerdy" in their words, as Hiccup. Dogsbreath had tanned skin, dark wild hair, and pale green eyes like most of the residents of Berk. It seemed that only Hiccup had emerald orbs, darker than most of Berk's residents. He was awkward around Hiccup, even now, as if wondering how to behave around the "fragile", "traumatized", little cousin of Snotlout Jorgenson.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Silence settled between the two but it wasn't awkward like one might think. Ruffnut, while may seem like a dumb blonde who played soccer and softball, was intelligent and knew when her comments were needed and when it wasn't. She was pensive most of the time, which garnered thoughts of her being a daydreaming airhead who ought to pay more attention. The twins both hid their intelligence, only letting it shine during exams and tests. They hid behind a façade so that they couldn't get hurt. Get hurt from what, exactly, Hiccup wasn't sure of.
"Do you remember now?" she asked suddenly, after a burst of raucous laughter emerging from the adults. Gobber was doing some sort of weird jig while holding a large mug of Viking mead. "They told us you couldn't remember – well, that you could but you didn't want to remember. They said you were a weird case. You forgot your childhood in your captivity to make the transition less agonizing to you and when you were rescued, you forgot about life with that…that man."
"I'm starting to remember," Hiccup told her. Ruffnut never truly bullied him when they were kids. She mostly trailed after her twin and Snotlout because she was too quiet and odd to hang out with Astrid and Camicazi. "It isn't pleasant."
Ruffnut fell silence, sipping on her own mug of cocoa. "I can't imagine – I don't want to imagine, actually. But…" her lip trembled and she sucked in a breath. For all of her pointy chin and heart-shaped face, and dirty blonde hair in two pigtails, and hardened scowl, Hiccup couldn't help but think she was at her most vulnerable in that single moment.
"Whatever is going on, Ruff," Hiccup said. "I won't judge you for it – that would make me a hypocrite considering everything I've been through over the past years." Hiccup looked into her pale blue eyes. "Just know that you're not alone. You will never be alone."
Ruffnut gave him a trembling smile. "Thanks, Hiccup. That means a lot."
Dinner time soon rolled around and sitting in the ancient Great Hall, they gathered. They ate, and drank, and told stories, and sang songs, and, the adults, got drunk off their asses. The little children were ushered off to bed whilst most of the adults stayed inside of the Great Hall with more alcoholic beverages being passed around.
Hiccup saw that even his father was participating.
Hiccup soon found himself inside of his old bedroom, sitting down on the soft mattress. Often, once he was completely alone, he found himself questioning why his life was so horrible, so perplexing, and so short at times.
Gustav, carried in Riku's arms.
Another little girl, we called her Stormfly. Her multi-colored hair is splotched and stained with blood. Her blood.
Ariel, standing protectively in front of little Melanie. "Don't you dare think you'll touch my little girl!"
Twins – Barf and Belch, they wanted to be called. Their lights went out two months after their capture.
A sloth-like, chunky little boy called Grump. He was burned alive.
Sora, the one who was killed to protect the ones he loved the most.
Heather stands over my broken body, fierce. "He's had enough," she snarls. "You're going to kill him, father!"
Are we all simply destined to die?
Hiccup walked towards his old desk, intent on seeing his old inventions and seeing what he could scavenge and upgrade when he stubbed his toe on a piece of wood. "Ow!" Hiccup grabbed his foot, looking down, and saw that the floorboard was sticking upwards. Something was put there, hidden. Hiccup couldn't deny his curious nature and got down on his knees to inspect the mystery further. He pulled at the floorboard until it was easier to remove and he blinked at the small box expertly hidden underneath the floor. If he hadn't have stubbed his toe, he would've thought nothing was there.
He picked up the box and dusted it off before opening it.
There was a folded map inside of it, a letter addressed to him, a ticket, and a picture of Drago Bludvist.
"What is this?" Hiccup whispered to himself in the darkness of his room. He knew his father wouldn't get home until midnight or maybe the man would crash in the Great Hall like majority of the adults in Berk, those who didn't have other responsibilities or children to look after. He chose to read the letter first. It would explain things to him – hopefully.
His heart thudded painfully in his chest.
He could hear his blood rushing in his ears.
The world around him went silent.
The letter was in his mothers' handwriting.
My little love
I understand if you don't want to read this or have nothing to do with me – after all, I left you to suffer in the hands of an abusive ex-lover. For that, I will not bother asking for you forgiveness for it would be selfish and uncaring of me to do so. I know that you hate me, loathe my entire existence. That's okay. I already cannot live with myself, even as I pen you this letter. It's been three months since you've been rescued, and two weeks since I've last heard from you, ever since I sent you to Burgess to be with your father. It isn't safe for you in Berk, anymore. I know that Drago will search for you continuously. Even before he kidnapped you, he was obsessed with you. For reasons even I am not privy to.
It was not my intention to tell the authorities about your abduction so late. I wanted to shout it to the entire world – my little baby was gone. But Drago sent some of his men to make sure I stayed quiet about it. I won't speak to you about what they did to make sure I never talked, but I rarely went outside after that. I was in a dark place, my little Hiccup. Though my dark place is probably nowhere near the level of yours, given what you've been put through.
I'm not going to lie to you now.
As you read this, I am most likely dead.
There is only so much time I've left before Drago trails me. I've left Berk. I don't wish the havoc Drago will surely cause on the small town of Berk any more than I already have. He has already broken so many families with his cruelty. I don't want that anymore.
But I will not lie down and take whatever he gives me. Not anymore.
The ticket is where I have currently taken up residence, with a few old friends of mine. The map has places circled of where Drago might be. Don't go after him, Hiccup. He will destroy whatever sanity you have left. I understand if you never want to see me again but I love you.
Goodbye, little one.
Your mother.
He held the letter limply in his grasp. Tears clouded his vision as they fell, slowly, from his eyes. A ball of emotion rose in his throat as he softly cried. He could hear his father drunkenly maneuver downstairs as he was having a small breakdown. He curled his fist around the letter, crumbling it.
Even now, he still hated his mother.
But she loved him still.
That's what mattered the most.
The rain beat down on Berk harder. Thunder boomed and lightning struck.
Hiccup continued to cry.
[1] : Quote from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak