Greetings all.
Welcome back to I, Alone. The epic story of how one young Viking just can't catch a break!
Thanks so much everyone for the amazing feedback from the previous chapter. It had been a massive effort to pull things together for it and I'm ready to tackle one of the core interactions I had in my plans for this story all the way back in the dark ages of 2015 when I first started this story.
So we are finally back in Berk with the new story arc 'Alone in the crowd'. There's going to be a lot of revelation as to what's happened in the time Hiccup has been away and we get to see how people have been dealing with all that's going on and how they will be handling things in the future!
A bit of warning to you all! Things are not going to get any better for our intrepid young dragon rider so be aware there will be some very difficult stuff coming up soon, nothing too graphic to make this an M rated story but it may be a bit distressing. I know it's all based around a kids movie but it's set during a brutal time and the stakes couldn't be higher which makes desperate people do desperate things. Also I'm sorry how some of you feel about what happened to the dragons in the previous chapter.
Big shout-out up top for my good friend Whiskerface for beta-reading this chapter for me.
She made a great point when she told me in a comment "Wow, Hiccup really screwed up when he said 'I, alone control the dragons!' all the way back in Chapter one".
Indeed he did and now we are going to see just how true that is.
As always, I thank-you for taking the time to read this.
Enjoy
I, Alone
Chapter 15
Alone in the crowd: Part 1
Hiccup felt like he was back in the dream world. Time slowed while strange sensations leapt out and swiped at him.
Barefoot, he was marched up wet planks of the dock ramps, he stumbled over rough uneven stone pathways, and nearly slipped on patches of damp grass. He would have fallen flat on his face if not for his guards roughly supporting his feather-like weight. In certain moments he felt like he was floating.
The hessian sack was doing a great job of confounding his senses. There was a constant din of seagulls, the hammering of homes being repaired mixed with an ever increasing number of gasps, hollers and unsubtle gossiping of villagers. They all condensed and muffled inside his prisoner's hood, making Hiccup feel his head was being crushed. He was actually thankful for it as he couldn't exactly make out the taunts and insults thrown his way as he passed certain Vikings. Though he couldn't see much through the thick weave of the hessian, he could make out big blurry shapes in the bright morning light that passed by him in the street.
'The Vikings of Berk definitely needed less feeding if a half-blinded child could make them out' Hiccup thought, desperately trying to distract himself from what he was being dragged towards.
Suddenly the terrain became steeper and Hiccup found himself nearly tumbling upwards as uneven, unforgiving edges clipped his toes. Knowing this meant he was heading up the steps to the Great Hall, Hiccup began to struggle and fight. If he went through those doors then it was all over.
If he could somehow prevent it then maybe … 'Maybe?' … He had no idea what 'maybe' could mean.
Still it didn't stop him from trying to struggle, doing anything to halt his momentum, or telegraph his distress to anyone that would 'maybe' hold an ounce of sympathy for his plight. Alas 'maybe' was denied to him as Hiccup felt himself lifted off the ground and thrown over one his guard's shoulders with barely a hint of effort. The trip was uncomfortable, the bounce of each step jarring him and Hiccup guessed every Berkian was coming to see this.
Hiccup guessed correctly.
Set roughly down at the top of the stairs, the boy was shoved and his surroundings got instantly darker. Hiccup realised he had finally been led into the Great Hall, the sounds of the muttering tribe being amplified and echoed around the cavernous room to ominous effect. There was some flickering orange ahead of him, so he must have been facing the great fire pit by now. With more jostling at his shoulders Hiccup felt a sharp pull that made his arms ache in a spike of pain.
"Shink, Click, Clack"
With the pressure from his arms removed and a slight tug, Hiccup figured out what had happened. The long chain around his wrist manacles had been secured to the ground. The noise in the room began to rise as Hiccup darted his hooded head in the infinite number of directions they could have been coming from. Each voice was indistinct yet their combined tone was undeniable, Hiccup heard subtle undertones of fear, curiosity and uncertainty. Above all of them was the strongest of their emotions.
Anger.
Hiccup tried to quell his shaking nerves as the tidal wave of Viking voices tried to drown him as it did in Gilgamesh's dream. As the roiling mass of sound reached its fever pitch, mocks and jeers becoming clearer and more vicious, Hiccup believed his former tribesmen were simply going to lynch him right here and be done with it.
Abruptly, the sound ceased.
For a few seconds, it sounded like all life had been sucked from the room and he was alone again. But the shuffling of bodies along with the sound of heavy boots clomping past, alerted Hiccup that the last people were finally here. The heavy scraping of chairs just above him made Hiccup realise that the highest ranked Vikings had arrived -'the council, some clan-heads, the elders and the Chief …
'my father'
Hiccup grimaced as the hood was yanked from over his head, scratching his skin and taking strands of his hair with it. His eyes adjusted and Hiccup tried not to laugh at how right he was. Arrayed in their seats on the wide steps up to the great fire pit sat the entire Berk council. And at their head, seated in his huge, ornately carved throne, was Stoick the Vast 'oh hear his name and tremble' Haddock.
He had never looked so stoic in all the years Hiccup had seen him, the Haddock patriarch's eyes betraying no emotion, yet boring into him with all the weight of Midgard.
The room was still eerily quiet, yet Hiccup could feel the collective tension of the gathered tribe. He was alone in the centre of the room with a good ten metres between himself and the nearest person, every eye raking over him. Everyone was jostling to get the best view of what was about to happen, unable to look away from the biggest event since, the founding of Berk itself. Hiccup looked around and was met with many faces he knew and even more he didn't, some prominent in his sight, others conspicuously absent. At the back, some folks were even standing on the tops of tables to witness proceedings while smaller children who had crawled forward, were peeking through the legs of the adults in the front row, staring with frightened eyes at the deviant that had been brought back into their midst. The oppressive scrutiny was threatening to overwhelm Hiccup and he thought the crowd was once again about to surge forward and finish him off. Hiccup stepped back a couple of paces and used the slack in the chain to pull himself up to stand as straight as he could. If he really was going to die, he would try and bear it as best he could.
At least his dragon family weren't here to see this. The ship he was on didn't seem big enough to hold dragons so he could take comfort in the knowledge they had gotten away.
'But why had they not taken him with them? Did they have no choice? Or did they make a choice? Had they abandoned him? Decided they were better off? Scooped up Toothless and just left without him?'
Toothless
What had happened to his beloved Nightfury?
Had his best friend abandoned him too or had the black dragon been left behind on that island, alone and helpless, just like Hiccup was now?
No'.
Hiccup refused to let such thoughts cloud his head or sap his resolve. The dragons were far stronger than that. He had to hope they were out there, still acting like a family and taking care of each other. Even if Toothless couldn't fly on his own, it never stopped the ebony dragon from being brave or protecting him. It was his turn now, Hiccup decided. He had to be brave for the dragons now. If he was going to die, at least it would be just him. Hiccup figured it was only a matter of time before …
"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third" a voice announced, bringing the room to a more tempered order. All eyes fell on the council, the boy expecting his chief to have spoken. However Stoick and his distinctive tones remained silent and the higher pitched voice of Spitelout Jorgensen spoke out again.
"You have been called here to answer for your, heinous, treacherous, unheard-of … treacherous crimes against your tribe and your kin" the tribe's second-in-command declared as he rose from his seat and oozed his way down from the dais, into the empty circular area where Hiccup stood as its only, unwilling occupant. The normally scruffy clan leader was clean shaven, immaculately dressed (for a Viking) and looked as if he had bathed in the bathhouse of Asgard itself. Yet that didn't stop Spitelout from eyeing Hiccup the same way a spider eyes a tasty morsel that has been trapped in its web.
Hiccup tried not to cringe as the large man began raising his hands. If his uncle decided to strike him with all of his strength, the dragon rider would have no way of defending himself and probably be knocked out. Yet, Spitelout passed Hiccup, flicking his wrist to lightly cuff him on the side of the head. A gesture with little force designed to disorientate, intimidate and humiliate that sent a wave of chuckles rippling out through the crowd.
"Hiccup," Spitelout intoned as he padded circles around him, "You are charged with; mocking our sacred rite of dragon training, kidnapping our best young warrior, imprisoning your fellow tribesmen, stealing their weapons and sacred heirlooms and threatening your chief ..." 'Aye's', sneers and grunts of approval followed each proclamation Spitelout made as a spark suddenly appeared in his eye and he added "... Coupled with a lifetime's worth of incidents were you and your contraptions were responsible for damage to countless homes and lives".
Hiccup sighed. Not a single Berkian had forgotten or forgiven him for the unfortunate side effects of his inventions, his attempts to make up for his physical under-development, his attempts to help his people. It seemed this was their moment of vengeance. Hiccup found himself preferring the meticulous gaze of Spitelout as he kept pacing.
"But the worst of these charges, the most unholy …." Spitelout's voice suddenly dropped down into a quieter tone as he hissed, "... is that you fraternized with our ancestral enemies. You made your camp with the dragons. You are a betrayer … a defiler … You are Hiccup the traitor".
A round of applause along with mutterings of 'Here here!' simmered from the crowd. Hiccup saw Spitelout's power stance and smile, made harsh in the flickering torch light, at how the man had built up the Hooligans into an effective wall of condemnation.
"What say you?" Spitelout asked his restrained nephew.
Hiccup held the older man's gaze.
"Well? …. I guess 'Hiccup the traitor' is better than being called 'Hiccup the useless'". The crowd gasped in surprise at the nonchalant, sarcastic response Hiccup gave."By the way uncle, Nice speech. How long did you practice that? A week? Two? Or did you start working on it the moment I left? Sounds like you had to put in a lot of work to sound that eloquent".
Some of the crowd groaned as if begging Hiccup not to dig himself any deeper. But Hiccup didn't care anymore. He knew Spitelout's tricks and if he was going to die then he'd at least try and damage that infamous Jorgensen ego as much as he could. The next cuff to his head which was harder this time, followed by being grabbed and lifted into the air. Hiccup struggled to breathe as spasms of pain raced through his neck and down his arms as he was brought close to Spitelout's face, his uncle's eyes wide with rage.
"This is no joke boyo" the second-in-command snarled as his huge fingers tightened around Hiccup's neck, "You've no idea the wrath you've called down on yourself. On us. No-one betrays the Hairy Hooligans and gets away with it. Not Grimbeard, not Barnstat, not even Alvin the Treacherous himself. They all faced our justice and got what they deserved. So will you."
Hiccup's knees failed him as Spitelout released his grip. He collapsed to the ground, coughing and spluttering, the stone floor as cold and unyielding as the Vikings around him.
"Oh yeah? And what justice will I face?" Hiccup wheezed as he cast a look up at Spitelout towering over him, pretty much knowing the answer already.
"For such crimes there is only one punishment fitting for you ….. you will face death by the Blood Eagle!" Spitelout declared as hollers of approval mixed with gasps of shock erupted from the onlookers. Hiccup's eyes widened in fear. Saying the punishment out loud made it real and Spitelout revelled in Hiccup's reaction as he reached down and grabbed the boy's tunic in both hands and hauled him up to his feet. The big man leaned in and Hiccup could smell mint leaf.
'Gods. Did Spitelout actually brush his teeth for this? What was going on?'
"First you will be tortured, then strung up" Spitelout growled, a sadistic smile splitting his face, "Then you'll have the skin on your back peeled open, your ribs pulled apart one by one and then your lungs ripped out. We'll make sure you'll be awake and in agony for hours." Hiccup winced as the now silent hall let Spitelout lower his voice and rumble into his ears.
"And when you die? Horribly, painfully, your cursed soul will be unworthy of finding any peace in any realm ... save the deepest, darkest pits of Helheim."
It was odd when Spitelout gently released Hiccup from his grip. Though there was no force put into the gesture, it felt like the warrior had punched him in the chest before turning away and heading back to the dais. Hiccup took the chance to look at Stoick again. That impenetrable, unreadable expression was still on his face. There was nothing to found there. No understanding, no compassion, no love. The Chief was letting this happen. Spitelout was enacting his father's will or he would have intervened by now.
Just like his disownment. The despair, the anger and the passion. It threatened to overwhelm him again.
It was then Hiccup noticed it. To any observer it would have been imperceptible; a trick of the dancing firelight, an errant shadow or just thinking the Chief was casually adjusting himself in his throne. But Hiccup with his keen eye saw Stoick drop his gaze for a mere moment and look toward his approaching brother. Stoick gave Spitelout an odd glance along with the smallest, most subtle nods of his head, Hiccup had ever witnessed. Everyone else's gaze was on Spitelout, but Hiccup saw it and Spitelout halted in his tracks, his posture becoming even more puffed up.
'If such a thing for a Jorgensen was even possible.'
"Yet there is hope!" the big man declared, spooking Hiccup with its ominous portent as Spitelout began prowling toward him again, "All of these crimes may be forgiven with one simple thing".
The idea seemed ludicrous as Hiccup began to step back from the encroaching man, his mind racing at what possible humiliation he might have to undergo to miraculously avoid certain doom.
"You can prevent your ghastly, torturous suffering."
Still Hiccup edged back as Spitelout kept intruding on his personal space, that terrifying smile still there. He stepped as far as he could until the chain went taut, tangling with the restraints around his ankles, locking him in place, leaning back from his looming Uncle.
"You can save yourself Hiccup" Spitelout urged, "All you have to do is …
'This was it! What degrading fate worse than death would be the alternative to actual death?'
… tell us how to control the dragons!"
'Wait what?'
Shocked, Hiccup's knees buckled and he fell backwards to the floor. Gasping through the pain, Hiccup tried desperately to make sense of Spitelout's words.
"What?" Hiccup rasped out as he looked up in bewilderment.
"Aye," Spitelout crooned creepily, that smile still on his face "you said you wanted to make things different? To show us? Well, here's your chance."
Hiccup was stunned. He glanced about quickly and saw that the toxic crowd's continued silence seemed to indicate they approved of this deal, due to there being no audible sound of protest to Spitelout's words. Even from Stoick there was no sign of disagreement. In all of his wildest and darkest imaginings he never expected this to be the result of his actions.
"You want me … to show you …. how to train a dragon?" Hiccup asked warily from his position on the floor.
"Of course" Spitelout replied, dropping to one knee and placing what one could assume was a 'comforting' hand on his shoulder, his voice deep and persuasive. "What better way to redeem yourself in the eyes of your people? Show us how to have the same power over the beasts that you do? I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement".
Hiccup's eyebrows raised up at the proposition of his dreams coming true. Despite his treasonous actions, the Hairy Hooligans were finally willing to listen to him.
'It must have taken his drastic actions to finally get past their stubbornness issues. Figures.'
Here was the chance to teach the people of his home the truth he had learned about dragons. He'd never be chief, but he could carve out a new place of value by showing what he was really worth. Immediately Hiccup forgot about his future in exile and was making plans for lesson outlines, flight manoeuvres, converting the kill ring into a dragon training academy and even updating the Berk Guard into aerial defenders. He could search out Toothless and plan the defeat of the Red Death from a base of strength with his people and his chief behind him. He could still be accepted and 'maybe' even a hero.
Then, when that battle was won, he could finally address how he felt about Astrid and 'maybe' she would join him at his side. It all seemed too good to be true but Hiccup dared to believe it might be.
"And if I show you how … to train dragons … What will you do with that knowledge?" Hiccup asked as a hopeful smile broke out on his face.
Spitelout's smile grew into something more genuine and he even gently helped Hiccup stand back up, placing him on his feet and stepping back a bit. The Jorgensen patriarch's swagger seemed to increase ten-fold as he moved, gesturing to the council with a tilt of his head.
"I think it's best we let our chief decide about that. Don't you think?"
Hiccup was about to become the dragon trainer he believed lay in his future. If it was going to earn him his freedom, Hiccup was determined to take this opportunity. Here and now he would give his entire tribe the lesson he had been denied with Hookfang in the kill ring, but do it right this time. He had the words practised ad-nauseam in his head.
'The first rule about dragons is, everything begins with trust. Not only must the dragon follow the Rider's lead, but the Rider must listen to the dragon, as well. But once you earn a dragon's loyalty there is nothing they won't do for you!'
He had taken a deep breath to speak the words with enough volume and clarity, that even the people at the back of the Great Hall would hear him. He became even more elated as he noticed many Vikings lean forward in anticipation.
Then Hiccup brought his gaze to Stoick.
The chief, like others on the council, was leaning forward in his throne, wide eyes boring into him with even greater intensity, their blazing green stopping Hiccup's voice in its tracks. In that stare, Hiccup still did not see a compassionate desire for new wisdom. Instead he saw a burning desire for something he couldn't define, but was definitely not in keeping with his ideals. Breaking away Hiccup looked slowly about. Spitelout, Snotlout, the twins, the Steinsons, the Irongiants, the Borkers, the Gutrotters, the Larsons and more. They were all staring at him with a strange, ugly leer, ready to go wild with his knowledge, thinking only about what they could do with it, caring not for the intention of its giver.
More importantly, Hiccup did not see a single ounce of trust they would be willing to give. They would only take. If he showed what he knew, it would be like his uncle had said.
The Hooligans didn't want to train dragons, they wanted to control them. Dominate them, enslave them. Twist and distort them into something as ugly as they were. Hiccup knew his answer would spell his doom. But he had made an oath on a lonely island in lashing rain, probably witnessed by Thor himself. He had vowed to do anything to protect his dragon family. Even suffer and die. Hiccup looked again at his former tribe. He could tell, he could not give them his trust. It made his decision all the clearer as he summoned his courage, swallowed deeply and took another breath.
"No." Hiccup uttered, his hope and smile lost, himself along with it.
"What?" Spitelout gasped, declaring the shock of himself and those around him.
"I said no!" Hiccup retorted, trying to keep his voice from shaking and his legs from trembling, "I tried to show you that dragons could be friends, but you weren't interested …s-s-so NO … I won't".
It was as if the temperature in the room plummeted. The crowd muttered, rumbled and hissed amongst themselves, pulsing like Pandora's nest of Whispering Deaths.
"Oh Hiccup, Hiccup, Hiccup" Spitelout shook his head slowly, voice dripping in condescension, "Laddie, don't be sour now. Just because you have an idea, doesn't mean it belongs to you alone. It's too late to be greedy now. You will tell us or you won't like the result. There will be consequences."
Ignoring the threat, Hiccup pushed on, hoping he could at least try and remind them of who he had been.
"Oh yeah?" the boy shot back, "Well maybe you won't like the consequences when my dragons track me down and come back here. Stormfly is an excellent tracking dragon and once they know I'm here, they will tear this place apart until they find me. So you best let me go right now!"
It pleased Hiccup that some of his former tribe cringed at his threat. He knew he would do all he could if one of his dragons were captured. He hoped it applied the other way round. Yet Spitelout remained unnerved by his words. In fact, worryingly, it seemed to make his burly prosecutor even more confident.
"On dear, oh dear, oh dear" Spitelout scolded as he wagged his finger, "You really shouldn't have given one of the poor beasties a name. It's just gonna make this a whole lot harder. Heh heh heh! Don't ya know your dragons are gone?"
Hiccup ignored his uncle's mocking laughter. He had to hold out for his dragons until they came for him. He knew they would. All he needed was time.
"For now" Hiccup retorted, his voice finding that anger he felt before. "You may have chased them off, but they will be back. They'd never abandon me. They will come, and then you'll be sorry."
Bizarrely, Spitelout's laughter increased in volume, spreading like eel pox around the majority of the crowd. Those that didn't laugh, Stoick included, kept their grim expressions locked on the mad dragon rider in their midst.
"OH ho ho ho. That's a good one," Spitelout chortled as he took a drink, waiting for the laughing around him to calm down, "No lad. You don't get it. I've been told by those who where there, your precious dragons are gone … as in … dead."
The temperature dropped a few degrees more, despite extra logs being added to the fire pit.
"What?" Hiccup gasped.
"Aye boyo," Spitelout purred back in sadistic glee, "the dragons are bereft of life, rotting in Helheim, d…e…a…d."
"You … You're lying" Hiccup tried to accuse in response.
"Am I now?" Spitelout crowed, his smug grin back.
"Y-Y-Yeah. You're just saying that, I don't believe you" Hiccup retorted as an icy feeling was creeping up to his spine.
"Really?" Berk's second-in-command bit back, "Well? How bout we ask the brave warriors who hauled your traitorous soul back here and killed your little devils while they were at it? Boyard, Draven, Greta, Holst, come forward!"
At the command, the four trackers pushed themselves in front of the crowd, geared up in their armour and weapons. Hiccup knew them from snatched glances in the past when they visited Gobber in the forge late at night. The old blacksmith thought he was sleeping in his little back room. Spitelout paraded past the assembled team, hands behind his back like a military commander.
"Draven, Holst, Greta! Did you in fact, kill all of the dragons this boy was cavorting with?"
"Aye Spitelout, that we did" Greta snarled triumphantly, "we blasted them in their cave, brought it down on their heads, crushed the soulless beasts".
The cheers of approval at her declaration made Hiccup sink even further into chilling paralysis.
They couldn't have killed his family. They couldn't have killed….'
"No no no no no." Hiccup stammered, desperately trying to be heard over the crowd "You're lying. I don't believe you!"
"It's true boy" Draven intoned from the shadows of his hooded cloak, "Holst and I finished off the Nightfury ourselves."
"What?" Hiccup demanded, sweat beginning to bead down his face, wide eyes holding back gathering tears, locked muscles straining to keep himself upright.
"I stabbed it in the face and Holst beat it down" Draven continued evenly.
"Then we blew up their wretched den and buried them. They're nothing but dragon paste by now, Heh heh heh!" Greta exulted, eliciting another round of jeers and scattered applause from the Great Hall.
"Thank you for that colourful description" Spitelout added, as he turned his attention back to the quaking boy. He nearly had Hiccup right where he wanted him.
Still Hiccup fought back against the rising tide that was chilling his very soul. Gritting his teeth and dropping his gaze, he ground out "No. Toothless is stronger than that … They're alive, I know it, they are….."
"Holst" Boyard muttered quietly, "show him."
"Urgh fine," the large warrior groused, "here".
Holst stepped forward undoing the strings on a small blood-stained sack at his waist. Hiccup kept his eyes fixed to the floor, trying to ignore the tribe's murmur of approval at what Holst had taken out. Shadows of the big man cast on the floor caught Hiccup's attention and he swallowed tightly against the growing lump in his throat, begging the Gods he was mistaken in what he made out in the torchlight.
Thwap
Hiccup found breathing impossible, as the lifeless body of Sunset landed crumpled at his feet. The once vibrant red scales of the Terrible Terror were now chipped and dull, her wings broken in a dozen places and a huge lump sticking out of her neck where her head bent back at an unnatural angle. The tears Hiccup had been fighting to hold back began making their escape down his face and he sank to his knees to look closer at the dragon's corpse. Hiccup just about managed to wheeze out.
"Sunset, no."
"Oh, you should really stop naming them" Spitelout jabbed again, revelling in the boy's distress. Holst made a coughing sound, gesturing to the pouch at his side. Catching on, Spitelout rubbed his hands. Holst reached back into the sack and pulled out something that made everyone gasp loudly. Hiccup didn't look up as Holst held his trophy high, walking around the circle so everyone in the crowd could get a good look, eliciting more gasps of shock and awe. At Spitelout's direction, the large tracker came to stand in front of the grieving Hiccup and slammed what he held to the floor with a sickening wet ….
Schlap
Hiccup flinched back as a spray of congealed blood spattered over his face and tunic. Regaining what little of his senses remained, Hiccup looked on in horror as he recognized the big piece of Toothless' right ear plate. It was the ear the Nightfury had used to 'correct' him when he made bad adjustments to the tail-fin mid-flight, the ear that would tilt at impossible angles when Toothless was honing in on a far off sound or hunting a piece of game. The ear that was part of one of the many facial cues that helped the dragon communicate with him.
It may not have been a cape made of Nightfury scales or a hat made out of his best friend's skull. But in this heart breaking moment, it was all the proof Hiccup needed.
Toothless was dead. His best friend was … dead!
Hiccup's chest convulsed painfully as the weight of the realm-stopping reality threatened to crush him into the floor. His mind - numbed to the now roaring cheers of the Hooligans – was re-running every moment he had spent in Toothless' company. From their terrifying first meeting, to making discoveries, to happily snuggling together as they slept, to saving dragons and making plans to do so much more. It was all gone, leaving a cold empty void with Hiccup as its sole occupant, helpless … useless … alone ... always alone.
The cheering of the crowd covered up Hiccup's wild sobbing, the dam broken as he leaned as far forward as he could to the two pieces of dragon flesh that represented the best part of his life. He was close to Toothless' ear flap when he was snatched up by Holst.
"Toothless N-N-NOOOOOOOO!" Hiccup screamed at having the last part of his best friend ripped from him, his face wild with heartbreak, the surrounding council and Vikings reduced to muffled, hazy blurs, seeing Hiccup had no way of wiping himself clean. He felt another strong cuff to the side of the head, as Spitelout dragged him back to a reality he no longer wanted.
"Toothless?" Spitelout mocked, playing to the crowd, "That's your name for 'the unholy offspring of lightning and death' itself? Toothless?! HA! It must have been a runt of its kind with a name like that. Eh everyone?" With each passing second the laughter of the Berkians became crueller. "Now the last of the Nightfuries is gone for good. Taken down by true Berkian heroes. What say all of you?"
"Ug… Ug … Ug... Ug … Ug …. Ug!" The crowd chanted as they stomped the floor or slammed tankards on tables. Spitelout held up the hands of the other trackers in tribute, Holst jealously guarding his trophy as he bore Toothless' ear-plate aloft.
The sights and sounds were too painful for Hiccup to bear, his body beginning to betray him. He spasmed and shivered, trying desperately not to be so consumed by grief he would pass out. The noise of the crowd subsided as they drank a toast to the trackers. Those closest to Hiccup began to take notice of what the boy was saying.
"No." the boy choked out, "no-no-no-no-no" Some children and adults looked on in confusion as the deviant of Berk, the heartless scourge who had threatened to obliterate them was leaning forward, straining against his chains and giving little nudges to the lifeless Terrible Terror, trying to get her move.
"Sunset? come on girl, wake up … please wake up … There's games still to play. Wh-who's gonna make me run for my boots now?"
Immersed in his suffering, Hiccup didn't realise one of the children watching him, a little girl, tugged on her mother's leg to ask "Mama? Why is the dragon boy so sad? Why did we kill his friend?" The child was hushed and quickly carried to the back of the room by her equally disturbed parent. Hiccup's eyes were only on Sunset, begging the little dragon to get up and bounce around.
"Ah ah ah That's mine!" Holst interrupted Hiccup's forlorn nudging of the dead dragon as he snatched up Sunset's body, ignoring the boy's grief-stricken expression, before stuffing her back into the sack at his waist. "There's not much to this beastie but I guess the tanner could make it into a fine belt for the wife," the large man said, "and this here?" He shook Toothless' ear, taunting Hiccup, "I'll have it woven into the covers of my bracers. Too bad Draven couldn't slice any more from the big lizard. Can you imagine how much coin I could get for a Nightfury scale cloak? I'd be the best dressed Viking in Berk."
The crowd chuckled at the jest as Holst waved in victory one more time, casting an arrogant smile at Stoick who remained silent in his throne. "Bet you're glad I took some trophies now, eh chief?" the big tracker said mockingly, "Guess this head is good for something smarter than just hitting rocks with, ha ha ha."
Stoick never flinched as the trackers dissolved back into the crowd, quiet resumed and everyone remembered the weeping boy at the centre of this debacle. It was a pitiful sight. Hiccup had never looked smaller, surrounded by the people who had been his prisoners a month ago, his eyes fixed in the direction where Holst had gone. To squash even the slightest chance of sympathy for the crying boy, Spitelout took charge once more.
He had broken his nephew's hope. Now he just needed to crush his spirit.
"Well now" Spitelout said, dusting off his hands, "Now that we've got that sorted, what say you Hiccup? You've got no beasts coming to save you. So why don't you save yourself. Save us. Give us your power over the dragons".
Hiccup continued to weep, bowing his head, trying to block out the horrible revelation that had crushed him. He tried to tell himself, if he just ignored his crazy, power-hungry uncle's taunts, then perhaps the man might leave him alone? Unfortunately his uncle would not show the suffering boy any such compassion.
"Now now lad," Spitelout said, "No use crying like a little girl about it. They were obviously a bad batch of beasts. Dragons of poor stock, stuck in the cages too long, weak in the mind and body. Far too easy to kill. It's like I always say. If our swords are not cutting properly, we get a new sword! Soon we'll have some fresh dragons for you to break in as payback for all the trouble you've caused us eh?"
Hiccup took heavy rasping breaths. His grief had undermined him, but hearing Spitelout dismiss his dragon family with such casual disregard? It stoked the embers deep within him and the anger he felt came surging back.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" Hiccup screamed forward, slamming his chains tight and leaning as far as he could toward his heartless uncle. Spitelout danced away from the growling boy, laughing and even letting out a pretend high-pitched shriek getting more chuckles from the Berkians as Hiccup continued to rant.
"What in Helheim is wrong with you? Toothless was not an old sword. He was my best friend … How could you?!" the boy shouted as he heaved and strained against his shackles, "I'm so sorry bud ... Toothless ... Urrrrrgghhhhhh!"
"Oh spare me lad and wise up!" Spitelout growled back as he marched up and grabbed Hiccup's face in one hand. Incredibly the raging child tried to bite one of his fingers so he shoved Hiccup back to the floor, thankful the kid hadn't drawn any blood.
"There's nothing you can do now, except do what we want" the man yelled, "It's what you want, isn't it? What you wouldn't stop yelling about. To teach us how to master dragons, to defend ourselves better, to end the war? To bring peace!" Hiccup's angry weeping was all Spitelout got in response. "Ach, Stop your gurning and do something useful for once. There's no running from the consequences of your actions boyo. You did this. You got us all into this mess and now it's your job to get us out of it."
Hiccup was lying on the floor despondent. He no longer had a tribe, a father or his dragon family. In his fragmenting mind he thought he saw Toothless leap out of the shadows to stand over him. The ghostly Nightfury looked at him with the compassionate eyes he had come to love and see himself in. Toothless tilted his head toward the surrounding crowd as if asking Hiccup to accept the Hooligans offer.
"No bud, I can't" Hiccup muttered shakily to the hallucination "they'd just hurt you even more."
"Who's he talking to?" Hoark asked as he watched the captive boy address some invisible figure.
"Don't know" Hogarth Irongiant replied, equally confused and disturbed.
"Heh! He must be going mad" Torunn flaysdottir added, her eyes never leaving Hiccup as he kept pleading to nothing but air.
"Well?" Spitelout said, "You gonna do the right thing or lay there all day? Some of us have dragons to train you know".
Hiccup's eyes drifted between his vision of Toothless and his uncle. To him, one was family and one was a beast. Both had expectant looks on their faces, awaiting his decision. He knew Spitelout would not accept whatever he chose but Toothless would, regardless of what came next. Hiccup knew his dragon trusted him as he shouted his response from the floor.
"No".
"What? Say that to my face," Spitelout raged as he grabbed his nephew and roughly hauled him up face to face.
"NO!" Hiccup shouted louder, "I'll never tell you anything."
Hiccup shuddered as he took another cuff across the head from his irate uncle, but remained upright and defiant, despite tear stained cheeks and his vision of Toothless fading away like smoke in the wind.
"Insolent child," Spitelout shouted into his face, "We'll learn ya, one way or another."
"I won't tell anyone anything; I am not making dragons your slaves or your weapons" Hiccup yelled back, gnashing his teeth, "the dragons would rather die and I won't have that, so you may as well kill me right now."
The crowd's shocked looks at this outburst reminded Hiccup of holding them hostage. Even being chained up, Hiccup Haddock still had his entire tribe captivated. Spitelout shoved Hiccup back, irked at how the boy kept his feet under him and stood slightly hunched, like a crouching dragon ready to pounce again.
"Ohhh, we'll get to the killing bit in due course lad if you keep up with all … this." Spitelout grinned, gesturing to all of Hiccup, "But we'll deal with your other crimes first."
Hiccup glared at his uncle as the older man loudly snapped his fingers. Through the hubbub, a wide gap opened in the throngs of villagers. Hiccup shifted his gaze when he saw a miserable looking Gobber lead the trackers back into the circle and stand in front of the Council, eyes widening when he noticed they were carrying four chests. The 3 chests that were filled with the villager's possessions he had ….. 'Traded?' …. 'Borrowed?' …. 'Oh what the Hel' … stolen from Berk and his own smaller personal chest, filled with everything he held dear.
'Oh no'
Hiccup tensed in his restraints. The lids of the three larger chests were opened as Gobber set the smaller chest down on a nearby table. Spitelout reached in to one of the chests and pulled out a neatly wrapped package that had a small piece of parchment tied to it.
"And what do we have here?" Spitelout said as he looked at the paper, "Hogarth Irongiant? It looks like this is yours."
The burly tanner broke through the crowd, rushing over to Spitleout and snatching the parcel away, shredding it open like a Snoggletogg present to reveal his prized hunting knife and goblets. Their brilliant shine, the result of Stormfly's saliva, left Hogarth in awe and allowed Hiccup to snatch a bit of pride. Hogarth made to leave but on seeing Hiccup, turned in his direction and in true Viking fashion spat on the ground. With the man now gone, there was a surge in the hall. It seemed every villager was going to rush forward and grab something, eager to retrieve their lost items.
The sound of a punch connecting followed by a loud cry of pain halted the charge.
"Get your thieving mitts out of it Boarface Svenson!" Gobber yelled at a man who was doubled over, clutching his nose, gushing blood, "I know there's nothing in here with your name on it!" The Berkians stalled as they took in the the irate, hook-handed blacksmith casting a blazing glare at them. "Let that be a lesson to all of ye. You come up when we call your name. No sooner, no later. Got it?" the silent crowd nodded and backed up.
So it went. Gobber and Spitleout called the names of those Hiccup had stolen from and each victim showed their displeasure at being parted from their treasures by spitting in his direction. It only got worse when Gimbal Leatherface, a particularly disturbing Viking, retrieved his weapon and taking one look at the pristine axe-head, cast the whole thing on the floor and stomped off, complaining the runt had ruined his weapon as he liked his blades 'dirty'. This then turned what should have been a simple giveaway into a game of chance. Would a victim take their item back or cast it off?. In then end, more weapons were kept than cast aside but a small pile had built up on the floor. Hiccup, taking each and every rejection to heart, remembered making them. He silently vowed he would never help their owners ever again.
"Ragnar!"
The familiar name of the Hofferson clan-head snapped Hiccup from his stewing and He looked on in trepidation as the formidable warrior strode toward Gobber, who held out the man's leather bound great-sword to him. It seemed his was the last weapon to be drawn.
Ragnar stepped close to Gobber, took his beloved 'Fenris' and carefully unbound it. The scabbard had been oiled and polished to perfection while the wolf-head on the hilt glinted and winked in the firelight. Gently, Ragnar wrapped his fingers around the handle and made to draw the sword he had missed. However, the blade had only risen an inch out of the scabbard when Ragnar's eyes widened to see some sort of dull purple glow emanating from the metal. Instantly, the man snapped the sword back down into its sheath and exchanged a frantic look with an equally bewildered Gobber. The blacksmith gestured with his head toward Hiccup.
Ragnar noticed, despite having more abuse flung at him, Hiccup was staring at him alone with more fear and desperation Ragnar had seen so far. The Hofferson patriarch had no intention of casting away his prized sword until he learned what was going on and what the boy had done to it. Attaching the scabbard to his belt, he was about to walk away when Gobber stumbled into him, jabbing him in the ribs with something.
"Oh sorry there Ragnar my friend" the blacksmith chortled as he waved his wooden leg in the air whilst holding on tight to him, "looks like I may have to get 'oul peggy' here seen to" Ragnar hummed in agreement and felt the odd sensation in his ribs again. He looked down to see Gobber forcing a small, leather bound book under his cloak. Confused, the man saw Gobber give him a knowing look as he spoke again, "She needs a good looking at, you understand I'm sure".
Ragnar Hofferson knew a code when he heard one and with all the subtlety he could manage, he secreted the book under his armour and firmly grasped Gobber by both shoulders, steadying the dramatically swaying man.
"Say no more my friend" Ragnar replied, "It is best to give it a good looking at". Satisfied, both men parted. Ragnar turned on his heel, striding past a panicked Hiccup, not even sparing the boy a glance or a drop of spit. Ignoring the odd looks he received, Ragnar Hofferson shoved his way to the back of the crowd where Eira had been waiting for him. He couldn't leave, but not since his wedding night had he so wanted to retreat to the privacy of his home.
With the last of the items gone, Gobber heaved a huge sigh of relief. He hoped this ordeal might end soon and he could get back to his forge and drink himself senseless again. He would need to be completely senseless if he had to bear witness to his de-facto son being executed for treason. He dared looking at the boy who was still getting mocked and spat upon. Hiccup's eyes were drowned in fear and sorrow. As their eye contact lasted longer, Gobber felt his phantom pains spike and stab at his stumped limbs and broken conscience.
"Hey dad. Check this out." Snotlout's voice interrupted the terrible staring match and Gobber saw him stride into the space, reserved for council members or those allowed. To his horror Gobber recognized the rolled up parchments the boy was holding up and snapped his gaze to the right.
The chest of Hiccup's things he had set on the table was wide open and Snotlout was heading back for more.
Ignoring whatever speech Spitelout was saying to Hiccup, Gobber moved quickly over to the table and stood behind the cocky youth. Snotlout giggled as he reached out to grab something else, a stuffed dragon toy the blacksmith recognised, but had not seen in decades. Knowing how malicious Snotlout was, Gobber decided to teach the lad a lesson. Reaching over Snotlout's shoulder as the teen's hand was passing the rim of the chest, Gobber grabbed the chest's lid and slammed it down on the Snotlout's hand.
Snotlout tried to recoil, but with his fingers trapped in the chest and his body now pinned to the table by Gobber's bulk, the boy had nowhere to go.
"Ow ow ow ow. What are you doing Gobber? Hggnnnnnn" Snotlout rasped as he continued to struggle free.
"This is for mucking about with stuff that ain't yours." Gobber hissed in Snotlout's ear.
"Yeah! You go Gobber." Tuffnut cheered over the table, appearing from nowhere.
"Indeed brother. Squash those sausage fingers." Ruffnut chimed in from under the table.
"Not helping, idiots." Snotlout grimaced as he gave one final pull, only to feel himself be released and dragged away, being cast roughly onto a bench behind the main crowd, an irate Gobber looming over him.
"You could have broken my hand." Snotlout groused, rubbing frantically at his bright red fingers, checking for breaks.
"Be thankful it was just your hand" Gobber growled with quiet menace as he stepped closer to the teen, bringing his hook attachment to hover dangerously close to Snotlout's crotch, "I could just as easily slammed that chest down on your manhood. Then there'd never be any future Jorgensens, ever. So keep your greedy, flat fingers to yourself child."
Desperately trying to ignore the chilling sensations that came with thinking about losing that precious part of him, Snotlout puffed himself up from the bench as best he could.
"I'm gonna tell my dad" Snotlout muttered.
"Oh nooo, my moustache is all aquiver" Gobber bit back mockingly, earning several chuckles from those around him "besides, I think your father has got more important things to worry about than you boy."
Snotlout twisted to catch a glimpse of Spitelout through the gaps in the crowd. His father was still fixated on berating Hiccup.
'Always Hiccup'
His cousin the traitor. Despite his unholy beast's death, Hiccup was still the centre of attention. Snotlout fumed no-one had tried to help him, even though he was probably going to be the heir to the throne. Snotlout took a mental note of those around him who hadn't lifted a finger to stop Gobber humiliating him. He vowed he would make them pay and he would have whatever else was in that chest.
Scrambling to his feet, he was shoved away as Gobber walked past him. Thinking up all kinds of revenge, he picked his way back through people to the chest only be stumped at the sight of a hefty padlock securing the thing shut. Grabbing the lock and giving it a few fruitless tugs Snotlout seethed.
"Wow Snot, you really showed him" Ruffnut mocked again from under the table.
"Yeah, plus I really think you should let Gobber flatten your manhood in it sometime," Tuffnut said as he leaned over the chest, "imagine the weird shaped babies you could make."
"Or we could crush it with the dragon we get? How's that sound, eh Snot-crotch?" Ruffnut snickered.
Incensed, Snotlout kicked Ruffnut's helmet from her head and punched Tuffnut in the face. Neither seemed fazed in the least but they retreated into the crowds, Snotlout persuing them. Nearby Berkians were happy they were gone. A few realised they were witnessing the potential heir to the tribe in action. It made them more nervous than watching the previous heir on trial. They all took a strong drink of Meade to calm their nerves.
Gobber saw Spitelout was still grandstanding to the assembled tribe, waving the rolled up parchments Snotlout had given him. As if only realising he had them, Spitelout began to unfurl them, his beady eyes fixed on Hiccup, trapped in the middle of the room.
"Well well. What do we have here?" Spitelout asked sarcastically, "Some scribblings? A secret code? Looks like our little runaway has got big plans."
Spitelout proceeded to flatten out and pass around the small stack of drawings Hiccup had drawn on his Lonely Island with the unknowing assistance of his dragons.
The first showed a bustling market-place, with traders selling to recognizable Berkians and customers in foreign garb. In the background Zipplebacks could be seen hauling a convoy of large wagons. The next picture saw more people looking to the sky and waving happily to the dragons in the air, some alone, some with riders, including Hiccup and Toothless. Another image depicted happy children chasing Monstrous Nightmare hatchlings in a side street, delighting in the lizards that blew fire and nestled on their heads. Next came an image of a Gronkle pouring lava into a forge alongside a blacksmith that looked similar to Gobber but with all limbs attached. After that was a picture of two excited Nadders, their tail-spikes out and ploughing perfect trenches in a field as a happy farmer that shared a likeness to Mildew waved his staff in thanks. Finally was an image of rows of houses on which different types of dragons roosted next to windmills, cranes and other contraptions.
The parchments continued being passed around the Berkians, some humming in appreciation at the quality of the picture, others recognizing themselves amongst the crowds Hiccup had drawn. As the drawings found their way through the council, Hiccup could tell they were stunned as well. Still, Spitelout continued to patronize him "Awwwww Hiccup. Aren't these just precious?! Looks like he was already planning on giving us the dragons anyway. He..."
Spitelout's grin suddenly dropped as he began flicking through the last three images. The elder Jorgensen swapped his gaze between the papers and Hiccup several times before moving briskly over to Stoick and handing him one of the drawings directly. The Chief looked at the image and then glared at Hiccup, folding the parchment and shoving it into the folds of his tunic. Spitelout with a new sense of gravity came back to the middle of the room and held aloft the last two images.
"It seems I was mistaken" the man declared sombrely "looks like the Hofferson girl was right when she told us Hiccup had no intention of sharing this great power with us. And didn't I warn you all? This traitor would rather hoard it and grind us under his heel in his new empire."
The crowds strained to make out the pictures but Spitelout walked slowly around the room so as many people could get a good look Hiccup's drawings. The first picture was of a mighty looking city with high stone walls unlike anything of Berkian design. It could contain thousands of people and rose as high as Thor's peak with a huge central spire filled with dragon nests and roosts. The city appeared perfectly symmetrical, not a stone out of place and dragons flew in the air by the score, their tiny silhouettes dwarfed by the construction they called home. Many gasped at the sheer scale of the concept and Hiccup could see their slack jaws and the disbelief in their eyes as their looks shifted from the drawing to him. Some looked incredulous that such a grand vision could come from one so small. In some faces Hiccup saw awe and even respect. However Spitelout was ready twist and pervert the evidence in his hand.
"So this was going to be your new home eh? Your dragon loving paradise? Tell me Hiccup, how on Midgard were you ever going to make this a reality? Where is this location? How would you get the quarrying stone? What would you pay your craftsmen with? Who would even consider trading with you?"
Hiccup took a breath. What was the point now? Toothless and the dragons were gone. He figured he didn't have anything left to lose and spoke haggardly in reply "I would have started with the dragons, the people would have joined me eventually. If I built it, they would have come".
Spitelout's mocking laughter boomed across the hall, like some mad Jotunn from the myths of old. He was joined by many other chuckles.
"That's your big plan? That's how you'd waste this power? I didn't know Monstrous Nightmares could be carpenters. What a load of nonsense!"
Hiccup shrugged as he endured the jeers from those around him.
"And what if no-one wants to join you and your dragon friends?" Spitelout pressed on, holding up the second drawing to his face, "I suppose you'll be happy to live alone like this?"
The second image showed Hiccup in the Great Hall he had designed for his city. The boy looked at the image, pleased with how it came out.
It depicted him, older and taller in dark armour, sitting on a high backed throne made of granite and in the dozens of ornately carved alcoves and archways that lined the edges of the Great Hall, dragons leaned out or snoozed gently. Beside his throne was Toothless, also grown bigger with age, sitting regal and noble, an equal to Hiccup in every way. On Hiccup's other side stood Stormfly, pristine and shiny in custom made armour. The throne beside the Deadly Nadder was empty. Hiccup's eyes lingered on it a second too long as Spitelout was suddenly close to him.
"Who's the other throne for boyo?" the man asked conspiratorially.
"The position has yet to be filled." Hiccup drawled back.
"Aye, and I'll bet my weight in gold I know who you want to fill it" Spitelout hissed back "You best know she'll never side with you."
At the allusion to Astrid, Hiccup's eyes widened and multiple questions raced through his mind. He hadn't seen any hint of her so far and every Berkian was here. Spitelout's confidence was unnerving when he spoke of her. But the man gave Hiccup no time to articulate any of his thoughts, moving backward and gesturing to the trackers. They proceeded to shove all of the abandoned weapons, Hiccups spare clothes and the leather wrappings into a metal trough that had been dragged out. Draven then produced a small flask and poured a strange smelling liquid over the pile of scraps.
"Would you still build this mighty city all on your own, given the chance?" Spitelout asked with an air of finality.
"Yes" was all Hiccup said, knowing that if he had the chance to do this again, he would have left Berk anyway or if he escaped right now he would continue with his plan and find somewhere new, never to return.
"Disappointing."
"Yeah I was kinda going for that" Hiccup snarked back, fatigue beginning to sap his strength.
Spitelout looked to the council once more to ask for their approval. The majority of them, including Stoick nodded their heads. Spitelout returned his eyes to Hiccup, vindictiveness in his gaze.
"Disappointing all that work was for nothing. This dream will never come to pass". The man said as he gave another gesture to someone behind the council. A hazy figure moved in the firelight.
"Why's that?" Hiccup asked, defiant.
"Aww, and I thought you were a smart boy. Don't you know that paper and fire don't mix?" Spitelout asked as Silent Sven came forward with a flickering torch and dropped it into the metal trough. Instantly the contents caught fire and Spitelout approached, holding one of the large sheets of parchment over the dancing flames. Hiccup's heart began to beat faster and harder again as the page came dangerously close to the fire.
"Wait, What are you doing? Stop it. Stop it now" the boy yelled as the flames caught the bottom corner of the page, instantly turning it black and creeping their way up the side of the image.
"You're in no position to give orders." Spitelout chuckled as more of the image of Hiccup on his throne began to curl and distort, "We're not your beasts boy. This paper is mine, plunder taken from a beaten foe."
With that, the large sheet came completely over the fire and the page burst into flames, dazzling those who were close enough to see. In moments Hiccup's dream was reduced to ash floating up to the shadowy ceiling of Berk's Great Hall. Watching the parchment burn drove Hiccup crazy. He tried to lean further onto his restraints but they just cut into his skin. It was futile, he knew, but he had to try and stop it.
"Stop it please. Don't do it!"
Hiccup could not prevent the next piece of paper from catching alight. The image of his city pulsed and glowed with life as it hung in front of the burning trough. The flames danced along the bottom of the image, licks of white and yellow drawing long black fingers up the page as it caught fire.
From her position on the dais Gothi looked on in horror. Hiccup's picture of the city was the same image she had seen when she cast her dragon bones. As it burned, Gothi heard the screams of the dying that had filled her ears during her vision a few weeks ago. They were quickly replaced by the howling, desperate cries of Hiccup.
"Come on lads, there must be more, give me more!" Spitelout shouted as the bundle of parchments he had passed out before came back to his hands. The rest of the images were brought forward and each one that was destroyed was another slap to the face, another lash to Hiccup's soul. Hiccup wept bitterly as he imagined each picture he had created, be warped and distorted in the fire.
'The city and its machinery were now charred rubble, his throne room destroyed, Toothless, further blackened and mangled unto death.
Ecstatic Nadders screamed in pain as they collapsed to the barren scorched land.
The blacksmith's skin peeled away beside his Gronkle as the forge burned around them.
The joyful children playing with hatchlings became contorted with fear and despair.
The waving crowds turned to lost souls with hands reaching up in supplication to the sky, begging for deliverance from their burning damnation, the dragons now far off, abandoning those they swore to protect.
No longer was there a market filled with energetic humans and dragons side by side, but a morbid procession of burning, infernal people, a black parade of hopes, dreams and ambitions, forever lost to the realms, consumed by Surtur's flames'.
Spitelout saw his nephew break. The boy was little more than a rabid beast, desperately yanking on the chains to interfere, but only injuring himself. It would make turning him to Spitelout's will all the easier.
The dragon like roar that erupted from Hiccup, silenced everyone and some warriors slipped forward, hands on sword handles, wary of what might happen.
Nothing did. No Nightfury or any other dragon burst through the Great Hall doors to interrupt the most grueling trial Berk had ever seen. Once more Hiccup collapsed to his knees, unable to watch his dreams being wiped out. He was nothing more than a quivering, whining wreck.
'It could have been great' Hiccup thought despairingly to the gods 'Why wouldn't you let me?'
"Oh no you don't lad, you're going to watch this" Spitelout growled as he yanked Hiccup's head back by his hair, "and then, by Odin, you're going to give us the power over the dragons".
More things were thrown on to the flames, some people even bringing back their recovered items to toss into the conflagration like some twisted ritual. Hiccup sobbed at his powerlessness, his voice haggard and rough. His cries got so bad, a rough rag was shoved into his mouth, silencing his pleas to any who might hear. Trying to look anywhere but the flames, Hiccup's distraught vision once again locked eyes with Stoick. Above the chief's fiery red beard, there was still nothing to be found but a coldness that would rival a frost giant. Breathing through the rag was a struggle as Hiccup tried to appeal to his once and former father. Surely as chief, Stoick the Vast could be gracious to those he considered his enemies?
'That was what they were now.'
Spitelout spoke to his former nephew in a low voice, "You're wasting your time lad. The days of you hiding behind daddy are gone."
Hiccup had no idea how long he was held like that, forced to watch his dreams die. Eventually he was allowed to let his head fall so he could stare at the tears and urine that had puddled on the floor in front of him. He'd no idea when he'd wet himself. Spitelout's big boots splashed through the puddle as he stood tall and brought the crowd to order. Hiccup didn't try to look up.
"Hiccup the dragon lover. Hiccup the traitor!" Spitelout declared, "It is the order of this council that you be taken to our jail and held there for one week. If you don't give us the secret to control the dragons by then, you will be sacrificed to the Gods by Blood Eagle for destroying the natural order of the realms. You will die nameless with no pyre, doomed to wander the fields of dishonour, barred from entering Valhalla. When Ragnarok comes you will perish alongside Loki's hordes, reduced to nothing!"
Hiccup shuddered and tried to gulp through the fabric between his teeth, fighting to control his gag reflex as the material tickled the back of his mouth.
"And after you die boyo? We will dig up the bones of your dead beasts. I'll take Holst's idea and personally skin that Nightfury to wear its wings as a cape and its skull for a hat."
As Spitelout spoke, Hiccup's heart slammed harder and harder in his chest. His imagination became his own worst enemy as he pictured and felt all manner of vile things happen to him. He saw his uncle and cousin laughing and wearing parts of Toothless as boots and belts. He saw his father still staring at him silent and unmoving as he was put to death, his corpse tossed to the seas to be fed upon by Eelsharks. He saw Berk reduced to a pathetic ruin after seven more generations of Vikings failed to find the Red Death and stop the raids. He saw all of his fantasies dissolve into dust, himself wandering a dark void, forever condemned with no-one and nothing to show he ever existed.
By the time Spitelout had finished talking, Hiccup's mind had decided it had finally had enough. The dragon rider's eyes rolled back into his skull and his body slumped sideways to the ground in a messy heap.
Immediately Boyard and Gobber were at Hiccup's side, pulling the gag from his mouth, checking he hadn't swallowed his own tongue, adjusting his body so it was more comfortable and listening for his breathing. All was quiet as they worked.
"Still alive?" Spitelout asked, apprehensive. His plans wouldn't work if Hiccup was gone. Yet he could brag for years about how he talked a prisoner to death. That would be amazing.
Boyard and Gobber shared a look before looking past Spitelout and nodding at the council. Satisfied the boy was merely passed out, Boyard took the key from Gobber and unlocked the chain holding Hiccup to the floor, the eldest tracker scooping him up to carry him away.
"What are you doing?" Spitelout asked incredulously.
"What do you think? We're taking him to the jail of course" Boyard snapped back "We're done here."
"Now hold on …"
Snap
"We said …" Gobber yelled, slamming his peg leg onto the stone floor, his voice low and threatening, his force of will spreading out like a ripple in a pond "… We. Are. Done. Here!"
Thunk
The answering, deep echo of Gothi slamming down her staff caught all of Berk in its wake as well and eyes turned to the elder who commanded their respect. She looked sternly around, her wizened gaze boring into the soul of every person there. It was as if the Gods themselves were judging their every thought and word through her. Many Berkians dropped their eyes in fear as she examined them. Finally Gothi looked to Gobber and Boyard and nodded at them. Boyard turned to leave with Hiccup in his arms, while Gobber picked up Hiccup's chest of possessions and hauled it over his shoulder, walking briskly to catch up with his friend. As they moved, all of Berk parted for them, forming a wide corridor leading from the shadowy Great Hall to the bright outside world.
"And what are you going to do with the boy's things Gobber? They should be left for the council to look at. There may be some clues to figure out how the boy controls the dragons." Spitelout called out as the men reached the door.
Gobber turned to look at Spitelout and Stoick, with nothing but hatred on his face.
"I am Gobber the Belch, master blacksmith of Berk, dragon training mentor and last descendant of Bork the Bold." the double amputee proclaimed angrily to the shock of all before him "I know Hiccup and I know dragons better than anyone else on this frozen stack of rocks. Anything he has written that is useful, only I will be able to figure out and I'll challenge anyone who dares to think they know better. A raid is coming soon Spitelout. I'd suggest you and the others prepare to get as many dragons as possible captured for the boy to train!"
Spitelout growled at Gobber's defiance and at being told what to do. He knew the old smith favoured Hiccup. Spitelout needed a man on the inside. But who?
"Mind if I help you Gobber?" Gunner Ingerman spoke up from his place, leaning casually near the doors to the Great Hall.
"Sure," Gobber replied curtly. The blacksmith stomped off, to his left, Boyard carrying Hiccup, to his right, Gothi who had somehow made her way unnoticed to the door. Gunner pushed himself off the wall and strolled out after them, throwing Spitelout a sly wink as he went. The master of the Jorgensen clan was at ease, his problem solved before it began. Gunner would make a good pawn in this game.
A game that, if played right would not only give Berk, but especially himself immeasurable power. He had taken Hiccup to pieces and destroyed the boy's dream for a new island fortress with himself as leader. In its place Spitelout would build his own chiefdom. Stoick could have Berk. Alvin could have Outcast. With the dragons at his command, Spitelout would finally have the power to build his own tribe and at last, be subservient to no-one.
He had done his job well and his flamboyant bow to the remaining council members, especially his still stoic brother displayed his confidence for all to see.
Especially the one blazing blue eye that had watched every moment of the trial's proceedings from the deepest, darkest alcove of the Great Hall.
An eye belonging to a shield-maiden who would not be denied her vengeance.
There you are friends,
So begins the Trials of Hiccup Haddock!
This arc is what I have wanted to write ever since I started this story 5 years ago. To finally get here and articulate the scenes that have been knocking around in my head and keeping me up at night is a real milestone for me.
The coming chapters will define how every character moves forward for better or worse.
That being said, I won't post any more updates for this story until the entire arc is written as there is so much to do with it. I'm literally going to have to print out all my notes and stick them on a notice board with red strings like a conspiracy theorist so I can keep track of all the little scenes and character arcs that this next batch of chapters will cover, one chapter for each day of the week I think. So 7 chapters need to be thoroughly planned out and then expanded on with the possibility for new ideas coming out or old ones being revised. It's going to be a big process. So it may be new year's 2021 before the next set of chapters is ready to go. It is unfortunate but I want to be able to read the entire arc and see how it flows before I set it loose on you guys.
Once again I would like to offer by biggest, greatest, HUMUNGOUS-EST thanks to Whiskerface for beta-ing this story for me. She gave me amazing feedback on my dodgy grammar, my annoying habits, what was good and what was bad and all of those damn exclamations marks!
Whiskerface, as we say in our guttural Irish tongue, "ure dead on!"
FYI there are references to War of the worlds, Ironman, Pink Floyd and Star Trek in this chapter. Good luck finding them!
As always any feedback, P.M's and questions are greatly appreciated too and I thank-you for taking the time to read this.
Also I might need to ask some of you guys some questions. There's the odd idea I have that I might want to sound out opinions on so if you want to register your interest in being asked, let me know.
Until next time
Take care of yourselves … and each other.
Razor95