Foreign desires of unforeseen transformations
Chapter 57 - Arduous abeyance
Visskara and Acacia landed in the clearing together - the clearing she had not only created in her past rage, when Toothless had called her selfish, but also where they had spent the last of their time together before departing for Berk. She absorbed the warm sun as it welcomed her home, the clear blue skies framing her lands, but in some ways, she missed the snow. She missed the contrast to the normality she had come to expect, the joy a simple pile of well-aimed snow could bring as it erupted into her Ameor's face, or the soft feeling of it beneath her paws. Mostly, she missed Toothless, and he was where the snow was - on Berk.
She had been home a while, had finished announcing her return, checked on the status of her island, and recounted her events and experiences on Berk with Acacia. Understandably though, Acacia had circled the conversation back to Hiccup and Toothless - she was worried about their break up, and she had many questions of her own that Visskara answered diligently as her friend. Now that she had experienced her ameors way of doing things, she was certain that friendship wasn't just a misguided concept. There was nothing wrong with being friends with the drekis under her command, nothing wrong with 'loosening up a bit' and not being so strict. Acacia was quite taken aback at first, by her willingness to share the details of her trip so freely, but she didn't comment on it.
"I am quite certain that they will both be okay. Toothless was returning home to Hiccup - albeit as friends, and he had a good Snoggletog with-"
Visskara was interrupted by a painful slash to her back. She turned, growling and powering up a plasma shot to shoot at her attacker … but there was no one there. The pain had been rather fleeting, but she had definitely felt it across her back - sharp and stinging while it lasted. Blinking, a foreboding feeling stirred in her gut before she felt the pain again. She almost attacked Acacia standing behind her, but her older friend's word's and reaction only caused her further confusion.
"Visskara! What is wrong, what is it?" Acacia asked, backing away from her in fear and caution.
Visskara roared and spun once again, as another strike of pain hit her back, and just like before, the burning sensation vanished as quickly as it had come … but no one was there. Something wasn't right, that much she was sure of, but she couldn't sense her assailant anywhere. The pain was abnormal, it only added to her confusion; if she had really been struck the pain would linger and build the more she was attacked, but it didn't, it came so suddenly and so real, and then it fled as if it had never happened.
Acacia was familiar with Visskara's mood changes, but this was a serious cause for concern and certainly out of the ordinary. Glancing around for clues to the changes her Alpha was exhibiting, she noticed the ground glowing bright green. She slowly moved closer to the glowing, noticing the soil dipping slightly where … where Visskara and Toothless had nearly died when they had tried to remove the binda-heit, she was certain it was the very same location. The tiny, glowing crater had her worried. Theories grew and died in her mind, pulling and pushing, as she tried to figure out what could be happening. She was positive though, positive that this was something related to Toothless.
"Visskara!" Acacia called to her, but her alpha wasn't listening in her own panic.
Visskara shot a plasma blast at her imaginary assailant. Something was attacking her but leaving no marks - a Hugreaetlavafi perhaps, making her imagine the pain - confusing her, but that was impossible … Gora was the last of his kind and he wasn't here. She shot three more times at her invisible assailant - each time she felt the slashing, burning pain down her back, and it confused her, scared her even. She frantically searched with her vision for an attacker … but saw no one.
"Visskara!" Acacia called again, louder this time as she tried to calm her Alpha and explain her theories to her.
Visskara, however, only stopped when the pain ceased - when she felt no more piercing, burning sensations down her spine, and when she was no longer fighting an invisible assailant. She turned to face Acacia, but her attention was instantly stolen by the green glowing crater she'd only just realised was there. She walked over slowly, staring into the shallow hole of green swirling smoke.
"What is it?" Visskara breathed, her gut wrenching with the foreboding as it grew deeper, colder. Her eyes never left the crater, the swirling gas was forming an image and she wanted to see it.
"Sorcery I believe. This is where you and Toothless spilt blood when we tried to spare you both from the broken binda-heit promise."
"Toothless!" Visskara breathed, the image finally becoming clear. Toothless was in pain, he was being harmed, attacked! He needed her. "I must go!"
"Wait!" Acacia stopped her. "What did you see?"
"Toothless! He was being attacked. I must go to him!" Visskara turned again to take flight, but Acacia's whispered words halted her once more.
"You are still bonded." Acacia whispered to herself.
"How?" Visskara panicked and turned to face her. She couldn't be bonded; the binda-heit was made void and they had separate lives to live. She had thought his sal-binda to Hiccup was stronger, that it ensured her bond to Toothless was severed. "How is the binda-heit still-"
"I don't think it is the binda-heit. I believe you are bonded in another way, a way I have never heard of before and therefore cannot explain. A type of ameor bond that lets you know when your ameor needs you perhaps. Whatever you were feeling just now, I believe it was a type of imitation to what Toothless is feeling."
"What? How is this possible Acacia?" Visskara demanded answers. She did not like knowing that her ameor was feeling such pain, knowing that he was suffering much worse than the fleeting, sharp, burning pain she had felt only moments ago. It angered her, and if it was true … she would kill the ones responsible. She would tear and blast Berk apart if she had to, until the one that dared to harm her ameor was ripped apart limb for limb.
"I do not know … but this land has captured the aura of Toothless and his sal-binda. Their blood, their mating fluids, their sorrows and joys, and their mark, has been imprinted on this island … but the sorcery eludes my understanding. I will never understand it completely, and the knowledge we do know will die out in time along with us. Perhaps the sorcery of this island is thriving more than we once believed, that it is fed by the very souls that live here. I believe you are all now connected in some way, you, Toothless, and the boy. Perhaps Toothless's blood, and your own, has intertwined withing these lands and created an unknown bond between you both. If Hiccup's blood has also intertwined, who knows what bond you could share between the three of you. It is all theories of course; I have nothing solid to base my assumption on, and hardly any knowledge on such things."
"Whatever this is, the theories can wait. I need to go to him, immediately!" Visskara insisted. She was fascinated, desperate for solid answers, but her worry for Toothless over shadowed everything else.
"What about the island? What do I tell the others?" Acacia asked, forever the voice of reason. She agreed that Visskara should go; the island, the sorcery, it was clear on its desire that Visskara should find Toothless or it wouldn't have shown her what it had.
"Tell them that- Tell them I'm- … Tell them to go fuck themselves!" Visskara quoted her ameor, resolutely. If he could rule without always being present, then perhaps it was high time the drekis of this island learnt to function without her - occasionally of course. Acacia's shocked face would have made her chuckle if Toothless's life wasn't in danger, but she held her posture stern and absolute in its authority. "If they ask, tell them I had urgent matters to attend to, and that unless they really do lack common sense and sensibility, and need their arses cleaned for them, that they should be fine to deal with their own issues maturely and reasonably until I return. You may use my exact words." She went to leave, but paused. "You could always ensure that they take a long nap should things get obstreperous and uncivilised. Kill the problem, and use their bodies to fertilise the trees perhaps."
Acacia didn't have time to be shocked with Visskara's final words, a sudden gust of ravage wind nearly knocked her off balance as Visskara took off at an impossible speed. She blinked when she regained her stance, and when the forest around her had settled from its rude - windy interruption, she wondered if her alpha was serious. A smile soon donned her lips however, and she sighed shaking her head … it seemed Toothless was a rather big influence on her - bad or good, she hadn't decided yet.
Turning around, her eyes widened considerably. She sighed in exasperation, a familiar yet unwelcomed scene of destruction lay before her. She had better get to work … Visskara's rogue plasma blasts had destroyed more of her precious forest.
Gora winced in pain as he awoke, alone and confused, but at least his wing was nowhere near as painful as before. As he regained complete awareness of his surroundings, he could smell Cloudjumper, Trid, and Valka's remaining scent. He looked around at the strange materials, the outside hut thingy that he was under, and the weird round thing in-front of him that held strange water in it. He sniffed it, wondering if he trusted it enough to drink. When it didn't smell fatal or threatening, and he noticed the strong scent of Valka around it, he decided to drink it. It wasn't bad, it tasted alright he supposed, but he was still hoping he wouldn't die of poison for putting his trust in Valka - in a human of all things!
After finishing the strange water, he examined his wing… panic rushed to the forefront of his mind when he realised, he couldn't fly. His wings opened, the right one albeit painfully, but it would be far too painful and heavy to fly with. What the hypnuch was stuck on his wing? Would he ever be able to fly again? How would he hunt food? How will he get out of here? He wished Toothless or Cloudjumper where here to explain things to him. "Hypnuch!" He swore to himself. He'd even take Valka and her half understandable babble to just gain some bloody answers to his predicament, instead of this unknown shit he was left with. He was doomed! He was a downed dreki thanks to Toothless, he'd kill him!
It was then that he remembered why he'd broken his wing in the first place; Toothless had been taken by hunters! He'd saved the torht humans of all things and let his faifuh best friend get snatched by hunters, all because the plifigen ordered him around as the mighty bloody alpha he was. He'd never seen hunters before - they smelt of death and rot. He needed to get to Cloudjumper, to Hiccup! How would he find them? Hypnuch! He'd have to walk! He really would kill Toothless if the hypnucha, faifuh plifigen wasn't already dead - and he better not be!
As he slowly left the strange place he'd woken up in, nervously taking in his surroundings, he recognised where he was - thank the dreki gods. It was strangely quiet, and the few humans that saw him just stared or ignored him as he continued on his way, it helped with his fear of the humans - that they stayed out of his way, but he was still cautious and vigilant.
He finally reached Hiccup's house, wondering how he was meant to get inside, and decided to roar his orders for the humans to fix that issue - hopefully that human would be Hiccup or Valka; he had saved them all from burning alive, because of them he couldn't fly anywhere safe or go after Toothless, so they could bloody well figure it out!
Gora, had just about squeezed in through the front door; Hiccup, helped to keep the door frame from rubbing against his bad wing as he pushed through, and he was now lying down by the fire listening to him - those human hands of his worked wonders on his neck. He'd been trying to get Hiccup to understand that they needed to find Kalean, but Hiccup had obviously felt the need to calm him instead for some reason - he most definitely… hadn't been freaking out!
What Gora had deduced from Hiccup's weird dialogue however, was that he couldn't or wouldn't go after Kalean. He'd assumed the 'couldn't' option; Hiccup looked and smelt more worried than he was. Gora didn't blame him; Kalean was his best friend, his … alpha - Gora rolled his eyes and huffed gently. It was still weird that Kalean was his leader now, not that he acted it most of the time - for that he was grateful, but Kalean had spent his last ar'tios with Hiccup, he was Hiccup's sal-binda, and Hiccup's best friend now too.
He'd watched Hiccup's eyes make salty water, watched him sniffle and make strange noises, and he'd listened to his strange words - taking in everything he could understand. He was extremely worried about Kalean too, and he could relate with Hiccup on that. He wanted to do something more than just wait for Cloudjumper to return, and he felt useless having lost his flying ability - temporarily if he'd heard Hiccup right; apparently, his wing would take a while to heal, but then the 'amber' would be melted off and he'd be good again.
If Kalean wasn't found before he could fly again… the minute he could flap his wings he would find him. He didn't give a shit about Kaelan's alpha order - to not follow him, he wouldn't leave his friend to suffer if there was something he could do.
"I wish you could respond Gora." Hiccup thought out loud, glancing at the amber covered break in Gora's wing. He continued to scratch the purple scales down the side of Gora's neck gently, calming himself with the repetitive motion.
Gora looked up at him. Hiccup was sure that if Gora had eyebrows they would have lifted, as it was, his eyes were wider in obvious displeasure at his statement. He couldn't understand Gora, not in the conventional way anyway, but that look spoke quite loudly to him.
"Oi, I do respond ya Quiazule. Ya just don't have our intelligence to understand me. Not my fault yer a human."
Hiccup breathed out a single chuckle. Gora reminded him so much of Toothless sometimes, and he couldn't work out if that was a good or bad thing yet, but Gora being here with him, it was nice. He appreciated the company as much as he was sure that Gora did too, and he felt safer with Gora; if anyone tried anything, he knew Gora would confuse them… literally, or hypnotise them to leave.
"I meant talk to me Gora. Talk to each other. You have very expressive responses." Hiccup wore a light smile as he continued to scratch Gora's neck, but the smile soon left to be replaced with a sigh. He frowned. "I had to force information from mum about the village you know, before she left with Cloudjumper to get medical supplies or rally some additional help."
Hiccup hated that, hated that his mother hid things from him or hesitated to share information that she thought would trouble him. His chief status might be standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff, but he was still the chief for now… and still an adult. It wasn't her choice to what information he was privy to, and whatever his 'state of mind', he had a right to know. He felt like a prisoner in his own home, and he deserved to know what was happening outside of it, even if he could do nothing to help.
"I feel so useless! I'm worried sick about Toothless, and I can barely keep it together not knowing my fate, and Olen and Haldor-" Hiccup's sigh was broken as he pushed his lips into a shaky clenched fist, leaning his head on it - elbow on his knee. He breathed in through his nose, exhaling sharply around his scabbed and bruising knuckles.
Maybe his tribe were better off voting on a new chief, he'd failed to keep his people safe; he wasn't the leader they wanted nor needed, and at least he could start putting himself and Trid first for a change. His leadership had gotten people killed, had destroyed his relationship with Toothless, and now Toothless was gone - killed maybe. If it wasn't for Trid, he'd have somehow found a way to find him.
His mother had begrudgingly decided that Hiccup needed to know of Hofferson's threat, and with that lingering over him he couldn't leave his son alone on Berk. Trid needs his father, needs stability, and he'd be damned if anyone would take his son from him. That particular news, along with the 'suggestion' that he stay home from Alex Alvarisson, had thrown any plans he had been making into a burning fire … he was back at square one.
If Hofferson hadn't made such threats, if the dragons were here, or if Gora wasn't injured… he'd have taken off like a fool and perhaps died trying to save the one his heart ached for the most, feared for the most - leaving Trid with Valka, Gobber, or the Hoffersons. In hindsight though, dying in a solo mission would not only leave Toothless unsaved and his mission unsuccessful, but it would also leave his son without a father - something he vowed never to do … if he could help it.
He'd entertained the ridiculous thought - for all but ten seconds, of taking Trid with him on such a suicide, solo mission to save Toothless, but he slammed that thought away as soon as images of his son laying dead crossed his mind. No risk, small or otherwise, was worth his son's safety. Toothless, the sweet, beautiful, stupid sod, had given up his life for Trid; Toothless would kill him, hate him, slap him again even, if he put Trid in danger like that. He wouldn't insult Toothless's sacrifice, and his own heart and conscience couldn't risk his son's life, period!
No one was going to aid him in a rescue mission to find Toothless, and Gobber was right; things were such a mess right now that it would be unfair to even expect it from his people. If anyone even did miraculously agree to go with him, they were too injured and weak from the attack that Maligon would only win again - he'd be sending his people to die. It seemed that no matter how much he wanted to find a way to save Toothless and keep his son safe, it was impossible. He couldn't do both. Toothless would agree with him that Trid must come first, and that was why his heart was crumbling. The loss of hope was building the more his thoughts failed to reach a plausible suggestion to rescue Toothless, but he wouldn't give up; he refused to believe he would never see them lime-green eyes again.
Having made the hard choice, for the time being, to keep Trid safe and put him first … he couldn't stop the guilt. No matter how justified his choice maybe, it didn't stop his mind conjuring images of Toothless crying out for him. It didn't stop the nausea born of pure worry, of a crippled heart, and of missing the comfort and strength that Toothless offered him when they were together. He'd give it all, anything and everything but his son, to have Toothless back, safe, and by his side where he belonged.
He felt Gora's head rest in his lap, two red-orange eyes looking up at him, sharing his worry for Toothless. His fingers had stilled in his thoughts, thoughts that hadn't stopped since he'd woken up, and he gently rubbed the side of Gora's maw in apology.
"We'll find him Gora. We'll find Toothless. I don't know how, but we have to!" Hiccup felt like he was assuring himself more than Gora as his voice broke, but he had to eventually find a way to get Toothless back and still keep Trid safe.
He'd thought so much he was getting tired, cried so much his eyes were dry, and he still felt sick just imagining what Toothless was going through right now - ignoring any nagging part of him that thought Toothless could already be dead. He decided his own fate didn't matter anymore, titles didn't matter anymore, and he was prepared to leave Berk with his son and screw the lot of them! He was done putting Berk before Trid and Toothless, done trying to please others at the cost of his own happiness. He closed his eyes, silently apologising to his father and Astrid for whatever he chooses to do next - for not being the chief they believed he would be, and for disappointing them. When he opened his eyes, he patted Gora twice before standing up to check on his son.
Trid was still asleep in his downstairs crib, but he would wake up soon. He gently brushed the soft auburn hair with his index finger - noting its slight growth and thickness, ran it slowly over the bruises on his son's neck, and back up over his tiny, perfect, rosy-pink lips. As much as he loved his Mother, Gobber, and his friends in different ways, Trid and Toothless were easily his whole world… nothing mattered as much as them. He tucked the blanket around his son's shoulders, and left to prepare for his son's inevitable needs - changing and feeding, and of course, love and safety. Collecting the materials he will soon need to change his son's diaper, his mind continued to think.
It was only a matter of time before the village recuperated enough - before the council recuperated enough, and a decision would be made; he needed to be ready to leave Berk with Trid, should they outcast him, or sentence him to death, or try and take his son away from him. He was worried about Trid's future, knowing that a chance to be the next chief would offer him stability, wealth, and a tribe at his command… but at the cost of losing him - losing his father and a family, was it worth it? He had to make a choice.
Maybe he was selfish, but he loved Trid, loved him so much that he wanted to be a part of his life, always. Trid was his and Astrid's beautiful, perfect creation, the one thing he would never regret. He wouldn't lose his son - couldn't lose him!
Living in the wild wasn't the best environment for a baby, but Trid was weaning now - a few more weeks and he would be off the bottles entirely. He wasn't the best hunter, but he could build. When the dragons returned, he was sure at least one would help him. He would learn, and he could make it work! Maybe even obtain a chicken or two and a yak for milk. In a couple of weeks, the Dragons should return and he'd have an army willing to save Toothless with him. If Toothless was still alive, if he could hold on until then, he will find him! He will destroy Maligon - kill him, and leave with Toothless to start a new life, just the three of them - somewhere isolated and devoid of humans. He'd miss his mother, Gobber and his friends, but he wouldn't miss Berk, his duties, or holding the entire weight of his tribe on his shoulders. He wouldn't miss the deaths, the struggles, the lack of sleep, or the sacrifices he has to make every day. Yes, if the moment came where he was to be stripped of his title, outcasted or worse, he would run. He would leave Berk with Trid and start a new life.
Making his decision to be ready to flee, he planned to prepared his hasty getaway should it come down to it. Now, preparing Trid's bottle - starting with the boiling water, he began thinking of all the things he would need to take, and all the preparations he would have to make to be ready at an instant.
Gora had stayed by the dying fire, watching him move about the house, and he wondered what to do about Gora. His mother and Cloudjumper would keep him safe, but Hiccup knew he would want to come with him, want to help him find Toothless. He wouldn't be ready to fly for at least six weeks. He would have to return for him if he had to leave before Gora was ready, or send a dragon to fetch him - to bring him to wherever he ended up. He would have to leave his mother a letter explaining everything, and he also needed to find and tame a male dragon - that hadn't left with the females, or he would have to ready a ship somehow.
A short, thin, cloaked and hooded man, knocked cautiously on Maligon's cabin door. His hands shook as he rapped three times on the slimy green stained wood, pulling his hand back quickly and fidgeting.
"What d'ya want?" Maligon shouted from inside the cabin. His voiced laced with anger, frustration, and annoyance.
"I have news from Slanousa." He replied with a shaky voice. "He wanted me to tell ya that the winds-"
The door suddenly swung open, and Maligon stared at the man before him. The man swallowed and failed to find his string of words, the fear was obvious in his hunched stance and dark green eyes, but Maligon didn't have the patience for people that didn't spit it out and get to the point.
"Arnstein!" He shouted warningly. He was already angry that his whipping had failed to make the Nightfury change forms.
"The w-winds have vanished y-your g-greatness. Slanousa says… h-he says to t-tell ya that the s-ship isn't … it isn't m-moving…"
Maligon's eyes were frowned in thought. He eventually turned slowly, walked back to his desk, and underhandedly picked up a long dagger. As he turned around again, to face Arnstein, he slipped the dagger behind his back - in his right hand, and he forced his face into its normal stoic appearance. Maligon then crossed the distance back to an anxious and fearful Arnstein, his left hand slumped around the man's shoulders, yanking him closer.
"You're shit messenger, and ya know how much I hate stuttering Arney." Maligon spoke gently, only an inch from his ear. Arnstein gulped and nodded - his hood falling back to reveal his tied-back brown hair, but before he could apologise, Maligon continued. "I can help ya with that, make you a better man. Would you like that?"
Arnstein nodded vigorously, but just as his mouth opened to speak … his breath was stolen by the immensely sharp pain that had been pushed into his gut.
Maligon twisted the blade, forced it up, and then removed it viciously. Arnstein's hands went to his blood spilling wound as his legs went weak, he stumbled before falling onto his knees, whimpering and stuttering incoherently before his entire body hit the ground. Maligon turned Arnstein's body with his booted foot, and he smirked at the fear and betrayal that danced in his eyes as the life left them. "There see, I told ya I'd make ya a better man."
Maligon hoisted the dead body up onto his shoulders and walked out to the main deck. Eyes turned to face their leader, some scared, others awaiting orders and standing to attention, and a few more curious to what pissed off Maligon this time. "Get back to work ya bootless blithering idiots, before I toss ye over board as well!" Maligon boomed before throwing the dead body of Arnstein into the sea below - not even waiting for the splash as he turned back. Everyone scattered back to work, or back to previous tasks… everyone except Pikredal of course. 'That annoying cunt.'
"What d'ya want Pike? I'm in no mood for your company!"
"All that blood not quenching your thirst? I'd have thought your greatness would be in better spirits. You have a Nightfury below deck, have blood on your hands, and are rid of one more imbecile." Pikredal listed.
If he wasn't Maligon's best, right-hand man, he would toss the fucking smart-arse overboard too. Pike had smarts, he thought of things out side the box, and his hands were just as dirty as his own.
"I hear the ships not moving; last thing we need is ta be sitting ducks. Until we reach the Barbaric archipelago we might as well wave a white flag over our heads and hand ourselves in, even then, Berserk caught the fucking curse Berk did … bloody dragon loving traitors. You sleep at night with a dragon next to ya, yer cursed is what you are. No other explanation for that revolting notion; their beasts, nothing more."
"Yes, quite." Pikredal drawled. "The dragon? I assume you left it alive."
"I did yes, but the stubborn beast refuses to change. Even if it won't change, I can't kill the vile thing or no one will pay up for it. It's stubborn! I whipped it good and proper but it just took it. He can starve, the minimum water allowance and I'll see how it feels in a day or two. In me thirty years killing and hunting the beasts, there wasn't one I couldn't break!" Maligon cracked his knuckles and ran his hand over his sebaceous face. "Let Spears know what I just said, make sure he follows the orders and keeps an eye on the beast, I need to talk to Slanousa."
In the cold, death befouled, window-less dragon cells below deck, Toothless had been left fading in and out of consciousness for hours - or so he guessed; he didn't have any sense of time, and no natural light to offer clues.
He could hear voices, pieces of conversation, but nothing that he could piece together in his current state; the pain was far too loud in his mind to focus on distant dialogue, and his state of wavering consciousness sometimes gave him wonderful, relieving moments of nothing - nothing that sometimes graced him with memories, loving smiles, and forest-green eyes. Until he gained consciousness again that is, and the pain made him want to vomit as if flooded back … and he had - vomited.
He vomited a few times after the whipping. Maligon had ordered the muzzle to be opened just enough so he hadn't choked to death, but it had since been tightened; he hoped therefore, that he didn't succumb to nausea again, he didn't want to die that way. He'd rather die standing proud, then choking on his own vomit - vomit that showed his lack of pain tolerance, weakness.
The heavy chains, bounding him to the disgusting, freezing, blood stained wooden floor by all four feet and attached with metal cuffs, were short and strong - dragon proof, just like the cell bars were. His tail was clamped to the ground, fixed in place tightly by bolts. It gave him the smallest room for movement - perhaps a few inches at best, not that he wanted to move. His wings were bound tight with leather straps, cutting into them and his underside if he dared move but a fraction. His mouth - his maw, was muzzled so tightly that he could only sip air through his lips, and his pained breaths were restricted to his nostrils. Every breath fed his nausea and told another tale of a dead dragon that was once held captive down here; these hunters obviously still hunted. The air reeked of blood including his own, and of rot, mould and mildew.
His own blood must have ceased bleeding, or he would be dead already. The simple action of breathing, caused the burning agony in his back to rage violently as his chest rose and fell. He couldn't even turn to lick his wounds, to see the damage, or to let his own healing saliva attempt its ability. He was in too much agony to feel hunger, but his mouth was dry and tasted bitter from the sick and bile. His leg might have been painful, but the screaming, agonising pain in his back stole all his attention - even his sanity and consciousness.
He was resigned to dying, not that he truly wanted to - he'd just accepted that his death was imminent. He was sure that any life without Hiccup, would be empty and cold anyway. There was no way out, no chance of rescue or escape, and he'd die knowing Hiccup and Trid were safe. He'd die stubbornly, not giving Maligon what he wanted - not that he could. He couldn't change forms for some reason, and he didn't want to; he feared the pain would be completely intolerable for one, and he wouldn't be ordered by the hunters.
As he lay there with his eyes closed, trying to control his shallow breaths, his thoughts fought between the demanding attention of the pain and the memories of Hiccup. Eventually, once again, his mind went calm and dark… and he slipped back into merciful unconsciousness.