Unbreakable
The middle of a war is not the best time for one boy to discover that he is not unbreakable. Sequel to 'Starlight, Star Bright'.
Chapter 36: Hurt
A/N: Well, I know it took awhile for me to get this chapter up. And that it's just full of Hiccup angst xD I'm sorry about that. I guess I'm just in the mood for sad stuff. And yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking: "You're always in the mood for sad stuff!" Just shoosh, okay? I actually do have a new idea for a new chapter of Untold and it's sort of fluffy. Kind of. Okay, not really, but if it's written the way I want it to, it will at least give people happy feels.
Oh, oh, also, I became a beta reader. I've helped people out with their stories and stuff before, but I've never been an "official" beta reader. Now I am. So basically, I'm open and ready for requests, but I'm also slightly scared. I shouldn't have really done it, because of all the stories on my plate, but mehhh. Spring break is coming up. I've got time. *flounces around pretending I actually do have time when I really, probably don't* But I am going to be pretty busy this summer, hopefully, so I might not be as active then. I'll probably still write a ton, though, because nothing can stop me from writing for long. Not even my love of the procrastinated word xD Yeah, see, get it because "love of the written word" but obviously mine wouldn't be written if I'd...yeah, I'm just gonna stop right now. I'll see myself out.
It was a rather quiet day in the tree trunk hideout – peaceful, almost. After I washed Eret's leg, using three quarters of the water Astrid had collected, I sat there for a long time, just watching him breathe. Mostly, I was just glad he was okay, that Astrid and Toothless and Stormfly were okay, that we had all made it out okay.
"We should get that arrow out, Hiccup." Astrid's voice was gentle as she knelt down next to me, her blue eyes speaking the concern her voice could not.
My own voice was difficult to use, after the silence that had pervaded the tree trunk hideout for so long. "I guess so."
"I'm scared it's going to get infected," she continued, as if she thought I needed an explanation. "I just don't want that to happen, because if it does, we'll have twice as many things to deal with. And Alvin would love it if you were too weak to fight back, Hiccup."
I already was too weak to fight back, I thought to myself. Sure, we had all gotten out safely this time around, but if I could only stop running from him one day and start fighting him, maybe things might change. I couldn't fight Alvin, I was too weak. I ran every time he got too close to me. It was what I had done my whole life. Just one long race, one long marathon, except there was no clear finish line because there would never be a time when Alvin would quit hunting me, never be a time when I could relax, where I could settle down, have a chance at happiness and a better life.
I closed my eyes, but instantly reopened them again at Astrid's next words. "Take off your tunic."
"Wh-what?"
"Take it off, Hiccup," she responded, taking the knife from me without waiting for me to give it, and brandishing it rather threateningly. "I need to get it off to get the arrow out, remember? Or if it's too hard one-handed, I can take it off."
"No." I was quick to reassure her. "No, I got it." I didn't like the idea of her looking at my bare skin, seeing my scars, and liked the idea of her helping me get my tunic off even less.
It took a lot of twisting and tugging, but I finally managed to unlace the shirt and pull it as gently as I could off my body, letting it fall to the floor. I didn't want her to see my scars, but I knew she would just continue to argue, and I didn't want that. I felt her hesitating, and could sense the sharp silver blade hovering just above my skin.
"Astrid." My voice came out sounding sharper than the knife in her hand. "If you're going to do it, just do it."
"Right. Sorry. It's just…" she took a deep breath. She swallowed. She was too nice, too polite to say she was freaked out by my scars, too worried for her reputation to say that the thin white lines, the whip scars all over my back scared her.
I almost flinched at the unspoken words in her sentence, and then cried out in pained surprise as I felt her beginning to make the first incision.
"Sorry, does that hurt?"
"Well, I made a noise," I responded. "What do you think?"
She gave a quiet intake of breath, and I shifted slightly, trying to straighten my shoulders, even though it hurt. "It's okay. Just keep going."
There were a few minutes of complete silence, but though she worked quietly, she worked efficiently. The pain let me know that she was doing quite well, and when it stopped, there was only a beat before… "Okay," she announced, taking her hands away from my shoulder. "Okay. It's out."
I twisted around to look at her, to see her still holding the bloody-tipped arrow, her fingers stained red.
"Hiccup, I'd say you have a god or a Valkyrie watching out for you from Valhalla," she said quietly, twirling the arrow around in her fingers. She didn't seem to care about the blood dripping freely from the silver head.
"What? Why?"
"That arrow…it hit maybe two inches deep, nothing more. The head was the only thing keeping it still embedded. Hiccup, you've got a god watching out for you, mark my words."
I was glad when Astrid finally collapsed in a nest of blankets at about five o' clock in the afternoon, because now this meant she couldn't fuss over me. After bandaging my shoulder, she'd taken the water from the jug and cleaned the blood off the back of my hand from where the knife had grazed me, inspected the area and informed me that, as the injury was not deep, it didn't look like the knife had hit anything major, and slapped a bandage on that, too. It was like she thought I didn't know how to go on with untreated wounds. I'd done it before, I could do it again. The people of Berk were weird sometimes.
The days were lengthening, too, as summer was coming, so even though it was five o' clock, the sun still hadn't set, but the sky was definitely not as pale as it had been that morning. I sprawled out on the floor of the tree trunk hideout against Toothless, listening to him breathe and knowing that, with every breath, he was thinking of the people around us, and thanking every one of our gods that they had gotten out safe and alive. I rested my head against his back, knowing that the sharp edge of his saddle would keep me awake and alert enough to notice if anybody else tried to enter the hideout. I knew Astrid would probably be mad at me for letting her sleep, but she needed the rest. I could see it in every tired, overworked line of her pretty, fine-boned face, and so I let her sleep, listening to her breathe evenly, in and out, in and out, just like Eret. Hearing the breath of both was a comfort to me.
For some reason, my dad jumped to the forefront of my mind – my real dad, who I had sped away from hours earlier, after getting into yet another argument with him. We seemed to have a lot of those and for a moment, I wondered if the relationship I couldn't remember was even worth saving, even worth remembering. Was I always fighting him, even back then? And then there was that word…traitor. It filled me with dread, made me shudder, and made me think of him, my father, staring down at me with a hard coldness to his gray eyes and there was nothing in his gaze. And…and…and… I couldn't remember anything else. He held a sword in one hand, that I knew, that I remembered. And the sword looked kind of familiar to me, as if I had had something to do with its presence in his fist. But I just couldn't remember. It was so frustrating that I wanted to scream.
My head was pounding from such a strong, scary memory. The back of my hand was stinging beneath the bandage. My heart was breaking because of everything that had happened, because of my inability to be strong, to be brave for the people who needed me. The inability to be the King they needed. My shoulder was throbbing from where Astrid had drawn out the arrow.
I thought maybe I understood what Eret meant when he said everything always hurt.