Fourteen: Who am I?

Dagur walked away from the execution wiping his sword, the hubbub of shocked guards echoing in his ears. The guards who had let their prisoner escape had been swiftly and efficiently dispatched. In fact, Dagur hadn't even bothered to pay the axeman: he had impaled the men on the block himself in front of their fellows. He was Deranged but he understood how to get his point across.

"Was she involved?" Eret asked the Berserker as he left the yard. Astrid had been locked in the cell and screaming to be let out and demanding what had been done to Hiccup. Dagur resheathed his sword and frowned, peering up at the solid shape of Snotlout, sitting on the balcony watching the execution and scoffing a leg of mutton.

"I think not," he admitted, his tone disappointed. "She was imprisoned in the cell and distressed at what had happened. She thought the boy was being tortured."

"I don't trust her," the Envoy said calculatingly. "She just appears a little too often wherever he is concerned. I'm not as stupid as Snotlout: the girl still has feelings for the outlaw."

"She's the only one," Dagur reminded him. "The people are falling over themselves to condemn him. There has been a petition from the town guild masters to Alvin as Sheriff to recapture and execute the boy as a public menace! When they would have been helping him before…" Eret gave a nasty grin.

"I won't be happy until I retrieve those Treaties…and have the boy screaming at my hand for his actions!" he growled. Dagur stiffened.

"But Hiccup is going to die at my hand!" he said in a deadly voice. Eret nodded in acquiescence.

"I'll torture him to the brink and then he's yours," he said. "Any idea where he is?" Dagur nodded.

"He's badly wounded," he said cruelly. "He'll need a healer. And there is only one who would still treat him. The trick is where to find her…"

oOo

Gothi was worried. The Elder of Berk, a tiny, hump-backed old woman with long grey braids and a vow of silence was the spiritual leader of the country and the best-though most elusive-healer. She lived in a lopsided cottage deep in the furthest reaches of Raven Point and kept to herself. Only a handful of people knew her location-including Stoick and Gobber. And she had been shocked and horrified when the gaunt, tortured and maimed shell of the outlaw had been delivered to her door.

Hiccup had been swiftly carried into her main room and a warm fire lit. Her little clawed hand had stroked the battered face and he had moaned very slightly, his skin scorching under her touch. Stripping the wretched rags from the prisoner, she had gasped at his horrible wounds and had immediately set to bathing them, tenderly washing the filth and blood from his fever-wracked shape. Gobber had stayed, requesting the others wait outside, wishing to protect the boy he had helped raise from any more humiliation or scorn. On the way, the twins had explained very clearly what had happened in the castle and Gobber had realised instantly how devastating the ceremonial degrading would be to Hiccup, who had always lacked self-esteem. Captured, beaten, tortured and rejected, the old warrior wondered what Hiccup would wake up: the determined, sarcastic and brave outlaw or someone broken and destroyed by the torment he had survived.

Gothi had been horrified by the amputation, a clumsy and painful job that had disabled an active and agile young man. The stump was mildly infected but his other wounds caused her more concern. It was very obvious that Hiccup had been tortured savagely and he had a lot of wounds that she couldn't share with the others. So she treated him gently and carefully, ensuring every single wound and hurt was tended with every ounce of her skill. But all she could do with the fever was bathe him in cold water and try to give him water and potions to lower the scalding temperature burning him up.

She and Gobber spent hour after hour sponging his fever-wracked body, trying to cool him down. They packed icy water and cold damp cloths over him and sat at his side, never leaving him and soothing him. He had moaned in pain, whimpered through nightmares and begged his tormentors to kill him. Gobber had felt his heart wrench in sympathy for the young man. Hiccup hadn't asked for any of what had happened and he had done what had to be done, no matter the cost. So when the boy had whimpered and wept in his fever-fuelled nightmares, the old warrior had taken him in his arms and hugged him tightly, feeling the battered shape curl against him and seek solace in his embrace.

After three days, the fever broke and Hiccup had opened bleary eyes to a dim and warm room, the flickering light of the fire orange in his blurred vision. He blinked a few times and winced, his head aching and back still sore from the lash. Painfully, he had rolled onto his side, hissing against his other wounds…and then it came back. He hunched his shoulders and pressed a hand to his face as the loud snoring filtered into his scattered consciousness. He warily opened his eyes again and turned his neck until he could see the bulky shape of Gobber, sprawled in a chair, his mouth opened and rattling the windows with his sawing snore. With a wince, the young man squirmed an arm under his naked body and shoved himself into a sagging sitting position.

He instantly regretted it, his head spinning with the sudden change in position. He bowed his head and gritted his teeth, taking slow breaths against nausea. And his eyes fell on the lower half of his body, covered by a patchwork blanket. His right leg fidgeted but his left stopped below the knee-and then the blanket was flat. He shuddered and threw the blanket down, staring silently at the puckered and red wound, a poultice slathered all over the stump. His hand slowly slid down his leg, to the knee, down the shin…and then he stopped. He took a deep breath.

"Useless," he murmured.

Gobber suddenly sat up, his blue eyes landing on the scrawny shape bowed forward, inspecting his wound. "Laddie! Yer up!" he said with obvious relief. Hiccup cringed, grabbing the blanket and hauling it rapidly up to his bruised chest.

"Sorta," he said hoarsely, his voice parched from long days of fever and screaming at nightmares. The old warrior rocked to his feet and swiftly poured a cup of water, leaning forward to press the earthenware against his lips. Hiccup quietly grasped the cup for himself and drained the water thirstily, then offered it back. "Thanks, Gobber," he said slowly. Gobber refilled the cup and watched the boy, seeing the careful lean of his body away from the older man, the downwards cast of his eyes and rapid breathing.

"Hiccup? Are yer okay?" he asked worriedly. The young outlaw took a long drink of the water-he really was parched-then shook his head.

"You should have left me," he said quietly. "You shouldn't have risked yourselves for me. I'm not worth it." Gobber stared and scowled, slamming the earthenware pitcher harder than intended on the table. Hiccup started and dropped his cup, flinching and curling away. His hands were shaking hard and he stared at them ashamedly, refusing to meet his mentor's eyes. "I'm worthless. Useless. I should have been drowned at birth. I cause only destruction."

"Laddie-yer friends decided to rescue ye without any say from me!" he growled. "Do yer want ter tell them they wasted their time?" He shook his head.

"Why would they want to even see me?" he asked softly. "I mean-look at me! I've been beaten and whipped and now I'm down a leg. What use am I?"

"I'm down a leg and I don't see yer daring to tell me I'm useless!" Gobber growled. Hiccup flinched again.

"You're not. But I am," he said quietly. "I just need to get some clothes and a stick and I-I'll go. I don't want to put anyone in any danger…" Gobber's expression softened and he stared at the young man with real alarm. This wasn't the sarcastic, determined boy he knew.

"I'll give yer a few minutes…" he said and headed for the door-which slammed open as the twins and Fishlegs burst in.

"He's awake!" Tuffnut yelled, oblivious to the flinch and frightened hunch that Hiccup adopted as they erupted into the room. "Why didn't you tell us, Gobber?"

"He's only just woken," the old warrior growled as he saw the patient cringe back. "I didn't think he needed so many visitors at once…"

"But we're his friends!" Fishlegs protested. "You haven't let us see him at all since we brought him here and we were worried about him…" Hiccup was bowing his head, shaking it submissively and staring at the floor.

"Yeah-all he needs is some good company-and some Thorston madness-and he'll be back to normal in no time!"

"Tuff-even I doubt your pranks could make him grow back a leg!" Fishlegs pointed out.

"And what do you know, Fishman? There's very little than a Nut can't do…"

"Shut up. Both of you." Ruff's voice was stern. They all looked at her. "Leave. Now. I need a word with him. He's clearly tired and doesn't need your antics at the moment." She stared into Gobber's eyes. "You too," she said. Gobber frowned and then she gave a small nod. He stomped to the door, dragging the other two by the scruffs of their necks.

"Mind the hook!" Tuffnut protested as the metal scraped the back of his neck painfully. Ruffnut slammed the door behind them, then cautiously turned back to the cringing patient.

"Hicc?" she asked him gently. He stared at the bed but untensed slightly. "I think I know how you're feeling." His green eyes flicked up just for a second-and she saw the hollow, self-loathing expression in the forest green depths. He swallowed and nodded once.

"Thanks," he rasped. She sighed and took a wary step closer.

"You came to rescue me," she said to him softly. "I didn't have any friends. Why?" He inspected his hands carefully. They were still shaking. He clasped them together.

"I-I heard there was a girl in their clutches," he said very slowly, his hoarse voice reluctant. "I-I know that they don't treat prisoners well anyway. I knew you, Ruff. You wouldn't make life easy. I had to get you out." She stopped by the bed and perched on the small stool.

"So why wouldn't you expect us to come for you?" she asked him gently. "Our friend was captured trying to save a Lord and his household from being slaughtered. We knew you were suffering really badly. Tuff and I came to see what we could do." Hiccup sighed.

"You shouldn't have…" Ruff reached over and gently caught his hand.

"We saw," she told him softly. "We saw everything. Including Astrid weeping when she saw how badly you were treated." He swallowed and closed his eyes.

"I let her down," he murmured.

"She said 'I believe in you','" she revealed to him. "She helped us rescue you-but she knew she had to stay…for now."

"I never deserved her," he sighed.

"That's not true," Ruff said to him. "None of it was. And though I know you are feeling so bad and so helpless and hopeless and worthless…because I feel those too…I know you will come through this. She needs you. We need you. I need you."

He looked up then, the green eyes wary and surprised. His bruised cheek twitched.

"Thought you didn't need anyone…" he breathed.

"Only my brothers," she told him softly. "My weedy, girly twin…and you." He gasped.

"That'll be news to my Dad…" he murmured ironically, briefly imagining his father having to deal with the twins' insanity. Ruff tightened her grasp on his hand.

"I'm here for you-whenever you need me," she assured him and pulled him into an awkward hug. But she felt him tighten his arms hard around her and he pressed close to the girl, his breathing ragged. She hugged him harder, knowing that he needed to feel some human comfort, that someone at least valued him. "We'll make this better," she promised.

oOo

Astrid was in Hel. Since Hiccup's escape, she had never been left alone. There was always a guard, watching her every move, from her trips to the axe range to the time she spent in the stable with Stormfly and her groom. Snotlout had dropped all pretence of civility and was acting as if she was already her personal possession, commanding her brought to his presence for every activity, from his sword practice to his bouts gambling and roughhousing with his friends. She sat at the side, her body tense and fists rigid with anger.

And he was rude to her, commenting snidely on her figure, her choice of gowns, her hair style, her walk. He told her how worthless she was and how lucky she was to have him as a prospective husband when, as the daughter of a traitor, she should be condemned to servitude-or married off as a favour. He explained to her in graphic detail that Alvin had already expressed his interest and how rough that man was reported to be in bed. And he kissed and pawed her in the most unwelcome and intimate way until she needed to bathe after every encounter.

But at night, with the door locked, she lay alone in bed in her gown, the little pendant in her hand and her eyes closed, imagining Hiccup. Not as she had last seen him-beaten and broken and utterly desolate-but as the sarcastic, playful and fearless outlaw she had fallen in love with. She pressed her eyes closed.

Yes, she had fallen in love with him. He had been her best friend-friends forever and they knew their mothers had once dreamed of a wedding though that had died with the women and times had darkened. Hiccup had known his father would have sold him in an arranged marriage for an alliance and Astrid fully expected the same…but they had remained close and could trust each other under any circumstances.

But Hiccup hadn't called her when he was disgraced and outlawed. He had dealt with the scorching dishonour alone, the danger alone, the shame alone. And she had been angry when he robbed her…for about an hour. But then she had admired his bravado and his determination in pursuing what he needed to do as a protector of Berk, as well as his reckless and fearless daring and his imagination in outsmarting the Sheriff over and over. He had also determinedly courted her-very gently and respectfully but the kisses they had shared still drifted hotly through her dreams. But finally, his luck had run out. And so, it seemed, had hers.

She sat up. She knew that Drago's army was on the way, for Eret had been gloating with Snotlout earlier and though she knew Hiccup had been rescued, she had no idea if he was still alive. But she had heard the rumours as well: that Stoick had escaped and that he was heading home. He needed to be warned.

She thought about it the whole of the next day, as her wedding gown was fitted and refitted as she ripped an arm out angrily. She thought about it as she demolished every target in the axe range and stalked back to her room angrily, leaving her escort sprinting to keep up. And that night, after another unpleasant dinner with Snotlout, his father, Alvin and Dagur, she had locked her room, thrown the gown out of the window and kicked Snotlout's latest gift-a portrait of himself-to pieces. Feeling better, she had pulled a sleepy Sneaky out of her cage and had written a very densely worded note, before tying it firmly to her leg. She stared sternly into the little dragon's eyes.

"This is very important," she said to the little messenger. "Take this to Uncle Stoick. You understand? Find Stoick!"

She had watched the little dragon flap off into the night, vanishing into the light mists, completely unaware that unfriendly charcoal black eyes watched her long after the dragon had vanished.

oOo

Toothless had refused to leave Hiccup's side once he was allowed in, growling at anyone who suggested he should be banished from the sick room. The young outlaw had actually relaxed when he saw his wolf and had hugged the animal desperately, burying his gaunt face in the thick fur and feeling the rumble of his worry through him. Gothi had tended him carefully, forcing him to roll onto his front to salve his whipped back and the other wounds, the cuts and burns and bruises she hadn't shown to anyone. And she had managed to produce a loose green tunic and a pair of brownish leggings that were patched but did the job.

Hiccup was eager to get out of bed-well, to get out. He was feeling uncomfortable and unworthy and he hid from company, pretending to be asleep when he heard visitors arrive. Finally, when he was sure no one was around, he swung his leg over the side of the bed, hauled his boot on, wincing and hissing at the pain as he stretched his wounded back. He stared up at Toothless, who had inclined his head and was giving a confused little whimper. The wolf could tell his master was far from well and should be resting. But Hiccup reached for the crutch Gobber had made him and shoved himself to his feet. Unsteadily, he hobbled to the door, leaning heavily on his crutch. He crashed to the floor once but allowed Toothless to help him to his foot and made it to the door, cautiously opening it and limping out into the cool afternoon. He paused at the door, afraid. He could hear voices.

To his right there was a bonfire, chairs and benches resting by it. A boar was spitted and roasting over the flames and Gobber was talking thoughtfully to the straight shape of Lord Hofferson over mugs of mead. Both men started up as they saw the taut, skinny shape emerge and lean heavily on the wooden crutch and the Lord walked immediately over to him, laying a hand heavily on his shoulder. Hiccup flinched.

"I'm sorry you suffered so much," the Lord said bluntly, seeing the young outlaw bow his head and stare at the ground, his shoulders tense. "I owe you my life. Twice." Hiccup took a couple of slow breaths.

"I deserved it. I brought the destruction on you. You owe me nothing." His words were toneless, hopeless. Hofferson stared at him, his eyes narrowing.

"I think I owe you my allegiance, my Prince," he said sternly. Hiccup flinched and pulled away, shaking his head. His breathing was ragged.

"No!" he said quickly. "They took that. They took everything. And no one wanted me: they all rejected me. They all made it clear that I am nothing. Not a Prince. Not a man. Just a worthless, disgraced, outlaw traitor." Hofferson's face grew puce but he glared at the young man, then he sighed. He had no idea what to say: Hoffersons were all fearless. But Hiccup didn't seem to be any more.

"I am sorry you lost so much," the Lord said gruffly. "I wish your recovery is speedy." Then he turned and stalked away. Hiccup looked up, watching him retreat and seeing Gobber's worried expression, Toothless pressed against his leg, and he sighed, then turned away and limped down the small slope. He managed to get out of sight before he collapsed to his knees and slow sobs wracked his body. Toothless pressed against him, whining gently.

"I need to get away," he murmured brokenly. "All I can see, whenever I close my eyes, are their faces as they scream at me. Everything my Dad, everything they said when I was a boy was right…"

Footsteps approached and he stiffened but there was muttering and he bowed his head with a sigh. "Hi Ruff, hi Tuff," he sighed.

"I told you we should have been quieter!" Tuff hissed loudly but Ruff crouched down by the curled up outlaw.

"Hicc? What's up?" she asked gently. Tuff stared at her: he rarely saw his sister actually showing any sensitive side but he knew she had endured some horrible experience during her captivity and that meant she could connect with their damaged leader. He hung back and waited. Hiccup stroked Toothless absently, his long fingers digging into the thick, black fur. He noted two of them looked swollen and twisted: they had been broken.

"I don't know what I am any more," he sighed. "Everything I was, everything I thought I was is gone. I thought I was doing this to protect Berk, to look after Dad's people…but they don't want that. They just…don't. They would rather see me broken or dead. So what is my purpose? Simple…I don't have one. I am Useless."

"Hicc? You aren't. You saved us all. You are our leader."

"Gobber would be much…"

"Crazier," Tuff murmured.

"Or Lord…"

"You're kidding, right?" Ruff asked him. "We're your gang. We live for your whacky plans and outrageous heists!"

"Don't forget the tyranny!" Tuff added. Hiccup felt his lips curl in the slightest of smiles.

"I am not a tyrant," he whispered.

"But you fight one," Ruff breathed. "Astrid believes in you. So do we. So we need you to believe in you as well." Hiccup tightened his arm around Toothless.

"I don't know what I am any more," he sighed. "I-I need some time…" The twins shared a look. They knew time was a luxury they didn't have.

"We'll get Fury if you promise not to do anything stupid," Tuff said.

"You know we'll follow you, right?" Ruff added. He nodded.

"I'll lose you," he said softly.

"You can try!" Tuff grinned.

oOo

They had helped him onto Fury and ensured he had his crutch, a bow and quiver of arrows, a sturdy sword on his hip and a flask of water and satchel of food. He glanced down on them, dull green eyes staring hollowly at the twins and Gobber, standing worried at the back.

"I'll be back!" he promised roughly.

"You better, laddie," Gobber said, staring at the skinny shape on the jet horse, the patched tunic and leggings unfamiliar. The auburn head dipped as they wheeled away and he cantered down the hill, the wolf loping along at his side. "As long as that wolf is with you, I won't worry…" He paused and squinted skywards. "Yer hear, Odin? Keep him safe!"

Hiccup accelerated down the hill, his aching body protesting at the strain of riding-but at least this wasn't something he needed his feet for. He just needed freedom, the space to think, to remind himself of who he was. What he had left. He ducked his head and kicked Fury faster until they were thundering down the hill and into the main body of the forest. Hiccup knew his friends would be following him but all he wanted was to be left alone. He closed his eyes. Actually, all he wanted was Astrid.

He felt his eyes burn with misery. All he wanted was Astrid. That brief moment in her arms had been the only minute he had felt safe since he had been so rudely awoken on that day his home and life had been stolen. But he was acutely aware he didn't deserve her: he was literally nothing- rejected by his people, declared outlaw, broken.

A scream sounded and he halted, his head snapping up and turning in the direction of the cry. Without thought, he kicked Fury in the direction of the cry as another sounded. He reached for his sword and leaned forward. "Easy, boy," he muttered to the horse as they leapt through the bracken and brambles and arrived in a clearing where a young blond girl and her father were surrounded by Alvin's men.

"…orders to kill all yer wretched traitors!" the patrol leader explained as his men closed on the scruffy man-clearly a forester-and his young daughter. Toothless growled loudly and the man turned to see the scrawny auburn-haired shape on the jet war-charger. "What the Helheim?" he swore. Hiccup gestured with his sword.

"Let. Them. Go!" he ground out through gritted teeth. Fury was pawing the ground in anger and Toothless's hackles were up.

"What have we here? A horse thief?" the patrol leader sneered.

"Why is it always a horse thief whenever we go out, boy?" Hiccup sighed. "Leave them alone. I think you want me." The guard gave a slow smile in shock.

"Oh, this is rich!" he scoffed. "You're the fled traitor? The defiled one? Hiccup, son of nothing?" The men grabbed the girl and pressed a sword to her neck, another holding a sword to her father's chest. The other four men ranged themselves facing the ragged rider. Hiccup paused and sheathed his sword, Toothless growling furiously. Slowly, achingly, he grasped the bow and aimed an arrow straight at the patrol leader.

"I may have been called that," he said quietly. "Or possibly not before. It doesn't matter. This is my forest. Let them go."

"Or what? There are six of us and one of you?"

The arrow buried in his neck and he gasped, the sword falling away from the girl's neck, The man threatening her father was next to fall and an arrow was already nocked as the men looked up in shock.

"Four," Hiccup said. One made for the girl and she shrieked, but Toothless leapt with a roar of rage and the man went down, screaming. The man next to him, who went to help his friend was cut down by the bow as well before Hiccup grabbed his sword, his bow still held in his right hand. He kicked Fury forward and the horse danced at the two remaining men. One lunged at him but he was swatted aside with the sword. The other stared up in shock-and fled.

Hiccup stared down, breathing hard, the sword falling from his shaking hand. His head swung round, looking for Toothless-and then he started. The wolf was licking the young girl and she was smiling…and her face stirred a memory. "Ingrid?" he murmured, recalling the young girl from the forest. She threw her arms around the wolf as her father grabbed an axe from one of the fallen men and gave a scream.

"Get away from the monster!" he shouted and the axe rose. Hiccup threw himself from the saddle to hit his man as the axe fell and a pitiful yelp sounded in the quiet forest.

"TOOTHLESS!"