A/N: References to rape and aftermath of rape.

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Twenty Nine: Lost to Berk

Hiccup slowly regained conscious and bit back the low, animal moan of pain that escaped his bruised mouth. Everything hurt, from the swollen slaps on his face to the bites on his skin and the searing agony on his rear. His head ached from crying. Even his foot hurt from when he had lain strangely on it. He slowly moved his pale arms-ignoring the purple bruises around his wrists from where he had been restrained-and folded them, then buried his face in the little nest they formed and began to sob. Really sob. Each wrenching sound juddered through his abused shape, through his open mouth and vanished into the cradle of his arms.

Nothing had prepared him for this, not his slavery, his branding or whipping or beating. Not even the session with Sundby had compared to the brutality of the rape, the violence of Alvin's assault on his body. The man had exulted in violating his body, deliberately hurting him. He took a shuddering breath and moved his head to realise he was carelessly wrapped in a fur, half his body uncovered. The brand was still red and raised on his white chest and he pulled the fur up higher before he saw his clothes. And he had the strongest desire to get them back on.

He couldn't walk or even crawl, he rapidly discovered. The pain was simply too much for him to bear. So, with the determination he had used his entire life, he dragged his broken body to the little pile of clothes and struggled into them. He could feel blood dried between his legs and he tugged his leggings up, then slowly pulled on his boots. His tunic was ripped but he dragged it on anyway and curled up, pulling the fur-stained with his own blood, he realised-tight around him.

When he awoke, he was thirsty and he had to drag himself up to reach the water bowl that had been left. His throat was completely raw from screaming and he wondered if he could even manage to talk. And then he realised: he was a prisoner of Alvin and he stood no prospect of escape. He was unlikely to see Stoick again. And that hit him harder even than his rape: somehow, in the short time he had known the man, the Chief had become the father he never knew. He had found himself looking forward to seeing the man over breakfast, taking his lunch with him, discussing the events of the day. Listening to his thick accent as he recounted his life with his wife, his sadness at his lost son, the lessons he learned from his father, the responsibilities of Chiefing. And he asked about and listened to Hiccup.

Hiccup hugged his arms around his battered shape and recalled the way Stoick saw him up to his room, the way the man had tucked him in and hugged him before wishing him goodnight. It was a completely normal action for a parent but meant the world to the boy who had lost so much. And who had now had even that comfort taken from him. He closed his eyes and tears slid down his face: he had lost Stoick as well. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

He was roughly shaken awake and he blinked muzzily. He blinked in surprise and then his eyes widened as Savage grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet. His legs gave way and he slumped into a little huddle on the ground. The Outcast gave a nasty sneer.

"Oh, did Alvin ride you too hard, boy?" he sneered. "I'm sure he'll be delighted to know he fucked you so hard you can't walk!" Hiccup glared up at him with a surge of stubborn defiance and allowed himself to be pulled up again but then he braced his legs and managed to stay upright. He lifted his chin and bravely took a few steps towards the door. Savage laughed: his gait was very peculiar, an uneven limping stagger. There was absolutely no doubt as to what had happened to him and the Outcasts knew Alvin would be delighted at his effect on the boy. But Hiccup froze as he realised the direction he was being led and he refused to walk further.

"No," he rasped. Savage tightened his grasp on the boy's shoulder and began to drag Hiccup along. Hiccup just went limp and allowed himself to be taken: in truth, he had no choice. He couldn't fight his way free and had no plan and no one to help him. But he was dragged past Alvin's chamber and out into the yard, his shape barely drawing any notice. It was a complete change from the stares and whispers of Berk-and in a way, it was far, far worse, for it meant he was beneath notice. He was a slave. He was nothing.

He glanced up as Savage pulled him into the Forge and for a moment, his heart lifted, wondering if he would be able to offer his help tot he local smith and maybe have some hope of trying to fashion an escape. But that hope was dashed when they got into the space, the barred gates on the walls letting the cold, dusty air of Outcast Island swirl in. The smith was there, a dour man with unkempt whiskers and a scarred face-but beside him, the huge shape of Alvin was waiting with a sadistic grin on his face. Hiccup pulled away desperately but he was hauled in and held still as Savage grabbed a generous handful of his hair.

"Wh-why are we here, Al?" Hiccup asked, his voice shaking. "I-I mean I am almost a fully qualified blacksmith and I can be of use to you…" Alvin chuckled darkly.

"Yer already of use ter me, 'Iccup," he sneered lewdly and Hiccup felt his innards curl in shame. "But I want ter make sure that everyone knows who yer belong ter. Yer me slave, 'Iccup and you should forget about Berk-because you'll never see it again. And even if ye did-they'd never let yer back with the Outcast mark on yer skin."

Hiccup's eyes widened as the man lifted a red-hot brand from the fire, the sterile metallic smell so familiar from his times in the Forge-but he knew this was for him. He tried to pull away but his tunic was ripped open and Alvin grabbed his shoulder, held him still and pressed the brand into his flesh, obscuring the previous brand and extending over his left shoulder. Hiccup screamed desperately, his entire body tense with pain and his mind blind with horror and pain. He was being marked as an Outcast, a mark that meant he shouldn't be welcomed on any other island, that he was exiled from all the other islands of the Archipelago…and that he was a slave. Property. Nothing.

He felt his vision grey and sounds grow echoey as his body went limp. And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would never see Stoick again.

oOo

Stoick leapt onto the ship, his helmet on his head and axe grasped in his hand. Gobber was at his side and the rest of the fighting Vikings were racing aboard as well. The catapults were armed and loaded and expedition was ready. No one wanted to argue with the Chief. All the Elders had agreed with his demand for the armada and all the teens-with the exception of Snotlout-were permitted to go as well. This decision had not been popular.

"I should be going with you!" the arrogant boy had argued. "I am your Heir."

"No, you will NOT," Stoick shouted. "You gave him up and ensured he was badly treated. Had you introduced him as my adopted son-even my foster son-they would have treated him with respect. You should have volunteered yourself, boy! But you did neither: instead, you ensured he was sent to them as a slave and a sex toy. You almost instructed Alvin to abuse him. That I cannot forget-or forgive. So you will not come to rescue him. You will not linger in my sight. I suggest you try to find a way to make up to me and to Hiccup." And then he turned away and signalled to the captain to push off.

Stoick glared forward as they sailed out of the harbour. All he could see, all he could hear, were Hiccup's screams as he was abused in the whorehouse, his wide green eyes begging for rescue, streaming with tears of pain and shame. His hand closed tighter on the wood of the hull, his own anger bubbling. He had known the boy wasn't much of a fighter and he hadn't done enough about that, though he had approved some secret lessons with Astrid. He had assumed that he was as capable as every other teen on Berk…except, he hadn't benefitted from a Berkian education. Yet he had run forward, heedless of his own safety, to protect Stoick. He had risked his own life for Stoick.

And Alvin…the Outcast leader had once been Stoick's friend. Until that terrible day when it had finally gone down and Stoick had to take the painful and irrevocable step to banish Alvin for his crimes. And Alvin hadn't gone quietly, vowing revenge. He had gone to Outcast Island and taken the place over, forging the Outcasts into his army and set his course on revenge. They had periodically attacked Berk over the years and Stoick knew his aim was to hurt the Chief. If his son had lived, he would be the prime target but Alvin knew better than to target Snotlout. But now he had Hiccup-skinny, frightened Hiccup who had risked his life to spare the Chief and who Alvin would abuse without hesitation to get back at the Chief.

"Sir?" He looked up to see Astrid, her blue eyes determined. She self-consciously bushed her blonde hair back off her left eye and met his gaze. "We will get him back, sir," she said steadily. He sighed.

"Yes, but what state will he be in?" he asked softly. "Thor knows what Alvin will have done to him. And you heard his tale, didn't you? You know how much he has already had to endure!" She nodded.

"He's tougher than you believe, sir," she said. "He-he won't give up." And then Stoick closed his eyes.

"Why?" he asked softly. "I've known him a few weeks? Why should he remain loyal to me? Why should he endure any torment on my behalf? Why should he believe I will come for him?"

"Because you promised," she reminded him. "You came for him when he was in such trouble. He believed you when you said you would protect him. He lost so much-but he believes in you, sir. He knows you will come." Stoick sighed.

"But what if I am too late?" he said in a halting voice. "What if he's dead? Or so badly harmed he can never recover?" Astrid wrapped her arms around her slim body and sighed.

"You can only do what you can, sir," she said practically. "We are sailing as quickly as we can. He will be praying for rescue. We have to answer those prayers."

oOo

Hiccup just lay still when the cell door opened. His body hurt and his mind was shattered with fear and shock. Following the branding, Alvin had dragged him back and Hiccup was desperately trying to forget what had happened. The man had just taken what he wanted, abusing the boy brutally and laughing as he had committed the act that he wished that Stoick could see them. That Stoick would know the boy was now his and that he should give up on him.

Steps closed as the guards paced back and forth, their muttered conversation audible to the miserable prisoner. And as he lay there, he realised they were talking about Berk.

"…said the warriors would be away on a stupid search for the Nest," one grumbled. "There shouldn't have been half the people there. It should have been a breeze! Instead…" The man snorted.

"Aye, well never said you could trust someone called Mildew," the other guards said. "I mean, if he's willing to betray his own people, why should he help us?" There was a chuckle.

"Because the old man fancies a shot at the top job-and he thinks Al could help him," the first one said. "Berk is dying. The raids are worse, the Chief has no family and the Heir is a certified idiot. They're doomed anyway. And Mildew wants us to help him take over."

"Why would we want Berk if it's on the brink of destruction?" the second guard asked. There were the sounds of a new set of steps.

"Because Alvin wants his revenge not just on Stoick but on the whole Hooligan Tribe!" Savage sneered. "Berk still has a good store of gold and there are fertile fields, good land for keeping animals and plenty of boars and birds in the forest. There is wood and water and honey. No matter the challenges, there is far more on Berk than there ever has been on Outcast Island."

"And that Mildew is going to help us take it?" the second guard asked cynically. Savage chuckled.

"Mildew will be handing it to us on a plate," he said.

Hiccup's eyes widened in horror at the confirmation that Mildew was a traitor. It was the slightest of vindication to the boy that his instinctive dislike of the old man was dead on the money because no one else of Berk knew…until it was too late. And all of this would mean that Stoick would be captured or killed-and if Alvin was the captor, the two would mean the same anyway. Slowly, he lifted a trembling hand to his chest, raw and swollen from the weeping brand and he felt tears begin to burn his eyes. The brand made him an Outcast and he had lost Berk. He would never see Stoick again, never see Astrid's smile, never listen to Fishlegs talk so eagerly about the dragons…and he would never see Toothless again. That one hit hard, for the Night Fury was the one person who had accepted the boy unreservedly and befriended him with no ulterior motive.

Sobs shook through him and he felt his chest tighten in utter despair…but Toothless would be waiting for him. Brave, loyal Toothless who came with him to save the Searching Vikings even when they would have attacked him for his mere presence. He swiped his face dry, sniffing hard.

He would find some way to get free, he would find a way to train a dragon and he would return to Berk and Toothless. And then they would go, because he knew he would never be allowed to stay any more. Maybe he would get the chance to say goodbye to Astrid and Fishlegs, get the chance to thank them for their friendship. But he had lost Berk. And Toothless was his last chance of freedom…

oOo

In the dark forest of Berk, Toothless the Night Fury paced around and sniffed. He couldn't even smell the boy. Puzzled and worried, the dragon headed stealthily towards the village, flapping towards the shadowy peak above the village. Somehow, being near the boy and the affection, the bond he felt for him provided a shield against the Queen. The image of Hiccup warded off the evil whispers of the monster who demanded obedience, who insisted dragons raid, often at cost of their lives simply to feed her insatiable maw. And without Hiccup, he could feel her voice scratching away at his mind. He needed to find Hiccup because the boy would only not come if he was in trouble.

But as Toothless arrived at the top of the village, hovering silently above the boy's house, invisible against the dark, starless cloudy sky, he sniffed carefully. The boy's scent was faded and he knew he wasn't home. The village was damaged and there were the signs of a raid as well as the damage of a Viking attack. Hiccup had been here-but his scent headed down the village towards the docks.

Eyes narrowing, the dragon flapped down and followed the trail out over the water-and out to sea. Hiccup had gone…and Toothless needed to find him…