Cindercup
A/N: Hello all! It's been a long time, huh? Life's been…interesting, to say the least.
This story was inspired by writerofberk, who suggested a more comedic take on my HTTYD Cinderella retelling "The Servant and the Heiress." Granted, that was five years ago (…oops) but hey, better late than never, right? I don't usually write comedy or parodies, but I think I did pretty well on this one. But as always I'll let you guys be the judge of that.
Also, this is not meant to insult or make fun of people who have prosthetic limbs. I know losing a leg is a traumatic experience and I'm not trying to make light of it. So please don't take this too seriously. Just relax and have a good laugh.
Once upon a time, on an island in the North Sea known as Berk, there lived a boy named Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. He was a kind-hearted lad, friend to Vikings and dragons alike, and for the first few years of his life he knew nothing but happiness. He lived with his father Stoick the Vast and his mother Valka, and the little family knew nothing but bliss.
Then tragedy struck: Valka fell ill and died when Hiccup was only five years old. She was buried in an earthen mound on the island, and a sapling was planted over the spot to memorialize a woman who had loved nature. Hiccup visited her grave daily and his tears watered the plant so that it grew into a splendid tree. This phenomenon did not go unnoticed by the village, of course…
"Sorcery!" shouted a crotchety old man named Mildew, who was well-known throughout the town as being Berk's professional complainer. "There is something wrong with that boy, I tell you! No tree grows that fast!"
But Stoick, who deeply mourned his wife and loved his son, came quickly to little Hiccup's defense, telling the old man in no uncertain terms that if he didn't shut up about the tree, he was going to use its branches to beat the living daylights out of him. Mildew knew better than to doubt this and wisely ceased his accusations.
Later, in private, Stoick gazed up at the tree in wonder. "It is strange," he admitted to himself. "Trees aren't supposed to grow so quickly. Still," he added with a shrug, "I live in a world where Vikings fly on dragons and being hit by a mace doesn't leave a mark, so maybe I should open my mind a little."
In this last regard, however, he was soon proven tragically mistaken. The Outcasts invaded Berk, and in the heat of battle Stoick was killed. His body was burned upon a pyre, as was tradition for warriors who fall in battle, and poor Hiccup was left an orphan. He was taken in by his father's brother Spitelout, who had a son of his own named Snotlout. The boys were the same age, but this was the only similarity they shared. Snotlout was big, beefy, violent, and rather dimwitted. Hiccup, by contrast, was small, skinny, peaceful, and very intelligent. When he was fifteen years old, he used his sharp mind and skills in blacksmithing to build an artificial tailfin for a downed dragon he had found in the woods. The dragon, a Night Fury he'd named Toothless for his retractable teeth, had lost his real fin to the bola that shot him down, but thanks to the prosthetic Hiccup designed he could fly as long as there was someone riding him who could control the fin's movements. Toothless and Hiccup soon became the best of friends, which was fortunate for the poor lad, as the dragon soon became one of his only friends in the world.
Spitelout, who was intensely jealous of his nephew's brains, forced Hiccup to work as a servant in his own home. From sunup to sundown, he scrubbed the floors and walls, prepared meals, swept, dusted, repaired torn clothes, did the laundry, and did anything else his uncle and cousin could think to make him do. The only time he had to himself all day were the occasions Spitelout sent him into town to do the household shopping, and even then he didn't have time to relax or make conversation with the villagers. And more often than not, these jaunts made the stump of his left leg ache, for he'd lost his leg from the knee down in a battle when he was nearly sixteen years old, and the prosthetic limb frequently made what was left of his limb throb painfully.
Yet through it all, Hiccup never complained or grumbled. He always strove to face each day with a smile, no matter what his uncle or cousin tried to throw at him. Naturally the smile rarely lasted long, usually only a few hours into the morning, but the effort didn't go unnoticed by Spitelout, who could only watch with growing rage as his nephew grew from a gangly youth into a handsome young man. He forced Hiccup to wear filthy rags that were perpetually dirty and stained, and Snotlout took to calling him "Cindercup" after his smudged appearance. But even this couldn't dim the boy's optimistic view of his current situation. For someday, he was sure, something would happen. He didn't know what or when or why, but he knew that if he persevered things were bound to improve sooner or later.
It came to pass one day that the chief of the neighboring Meathead tribe, Josef Hofferson, announced that he would be throwing a festival in honor of his daughter Astrid. All eligible bachelors in the Archipelago were invited to attend so that the heiress might choose one of them to be her husband. Spitelout, who desired nothing more than his son marry into a chiefhood, immediately purchased the finest tunic he could buy and ordered Hiccup to ensure his son looked his best for the festival, to which Hiccup agreed without complaint.
"Please, Uncle," he said timidly, knowing Spitelout had a violent streak and not wanting to receive a slap to the face, "may I attend the festival as well?"
"You? Ha!" barked Snotlout, who had been listening in. "Do you really think the heiress would ever marry someone like you? A servant? A little nobody?" Hiccup flinched at these insults but Snotlout wasn't done yet. "She'll want someone strong, someone handsome, someone with clever wit and grace…"
At that moment a Terrible Terror soared in through the open window and collided into Snotlout's face. Snotlout shrieked in a most un-Viking-like way and proceeded to run around in circles, waving his hands in a frantic and unsuccessful attempt to dislodge the little dragon. In his panic, he ran headlong into a support beam and fell over backwards, hitting the floor with an audible "Oof!" Hiccup had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing aloud.
"Someone like me!" Snotlout finished, raising his hand weakly, his voice muffled by the Terror still nestled against his mouth.
Spitelout rolled his eyes and reached down to pick up the little dragon, retrieving the letter that had been tied to its leg. He read it quickly and said, "I have to go into the village for a moment. You," he added, pointing to Hiccup, "get my son ready for the festival. We'll be leaving at sundown."
Hiccup bowed his head and said nothing. He knew better than to ask if he may attend again. He spent the rest of the day preparing Snotlout for the party. The hardest part of this by far was convincing the foolhardy teen to take a bath. "Ladies love the Snotlout smell!" the lad insisted, raising his arms to flex but in doing so revealing his armpits. He was completely unaware that the Terrible Terror, which had not yet left, was gagging from the smell of his body odor. Hiccup coughed a couple of times and wondered if it would really be such a bad thing if he lost his sense of smell. Not noticing the reaction his, erm…aroma was creating, Snotlout added, "It's distinctive!"
"Can't argue with that," Hiccup muttered under his breath, pinching his nose.
In the end, Snotlout begrudgingly agreed to the bath, and by the time he and his father were supposed to leave he was looking as handsome as it was possible for him to be. ("I'm just a servant, not a miracle worker," Hiccup said to himself.) And then they were gone, flying away to Meathead Island for a night full of fun and revelry. Hiccup watched them go with a heavy heart, wishing more than anything he and Toothless were soaring along behind them.
He sighed and turned away, trudging into the forest with Toothless ambling along behind him, crooning with sympathy. They soon reached Valka's grave, and Hiccup sank to his knees, tears welling up in his eyes. He fought to keep them at bay as he murmured, "Mom, I don't understand. You and Dad always told me that if I was good and kind then I would someday find my happiness. Well, I've been good and kind. I've done everything my uncle and cousin have asked of me without a word of complaint. For years I've worked and toiled, waiting patiently for just a little bit of joy to come my way. And now there's this festival, a single night in which I could relax and learn to be happy again, but even this has been snatched away from me! What am I doing wrong? Why am I not allowed to have even a simple moment of happiness?"
"Because you never thought to ask for it."
Hiccup looked sharply up at the tree and felt his heart miss several beats. There was a beautiful woman standing at its base dressed entirely in white. A woman he recognized but hadn't seen since he was a small child. "Mom?"
Valka smiled widely and spread her arms out. "Yes, my dear Hiccup. It's me."
There was a beat. And then Hiccup cried, "Mom!" and ran forward into her waiting arms…or more accurately, through her waiting arms. Through her entire body, for that matter. One moment he was falling into his mother's embrace, the next he was actually falling, hitting the ground with a startled yell – "WHOA!" – and a heavy THUD. "Ow…" he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing a rapidly-growing lump on his head, his reward for running headlong into the tree trunk.
"Sorry, my dear," Valka said, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm no more than a spirit. I haven't actually returned to life. I'm here because your faith and goodness granted me just a few minutes to grant you your wish."
"My wish?" Hiccup repeated blankly, rising to his feet.
"You wanted to go to the festival on Meathead Island, correct?"
"Oh…well, yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "I mean, there were a couple of other things, but sure, that'd be nice, I guess."
"Great!" Valka clapped her hands together. "As it so happens, being a spirit gives me magical powers—"
"It does?" Hiccup blinked. "How does that work?"
Valka looked momentarily stumped, as if she hadn't actually given it any consideration. Then she recovered herself, shaking her head and saying, "That's not important right now. What's important is that I can get you to the festival with a little magical help."
"Oh. Well, that's…um…great…" Hiccup said, though his voice didn't quite contain the appropriate amount of enthusiasm. And Valka could hardly fail to notice this.
"What's wrong?"
"Well…" Hiccup hesitated and then plunged on, "you know, it just seems strange to me: you're standing here now, telling me that you can use your mystical spirit-magic stuff to get me to the festival. But you couldn't do anything to, oh I don't know, stop my uncle and cousin from turning me into a servant and forcing me to slave for them every day for all these years? Seems a little imbalanced to me, don't you think?"
Valka crossed her arms and replied wearily, "Look, I don't make the rules, okay? I just work here. Do you want to go to the festival or not?"
Hiccup looked at Toothless, who warbled noncommittally, and then turned back to Valka, smiling. "Yes. Yes, I do."
Valka smiled too. "Very well, then. Hold still, then, while I put you in something a little more comfortable."
And before Hiccup could ask what she meant, she had raised her hands toward him, and he and Toothless were suddenly engulfed in a blinding golden light. And it wasn't exactly a comfortable light, either. "Hot!" yelped Hiccup, jumping from one foot to the other. "Hot, hot, very hot!"
Thankfully the magic didn't actually harm him, and the glow faded as quickly as it appeared. Hiccup, half-convinced his skin was on fire, tried to pat out flames that weren't there, and then he froze as his eyes fell on the rich fabric now adorning his body. He was dressed in clothing finer than anything he'd ever seen before in his life. He doubted if even the Chief of Berk himself possessed anything so regal. A rich golden tunic with silver trim clung to his torso, complimented by leggings the color of night. Draped over his shoulders was a cloak of the softest fur he'd ever touched. A belt studded with jewels wrapped around his waist, and his boots were of the most exquisite leather. He was the very image of an heir.
As least he was…until he collapsed from shock.
"Sorry," Valka said, watching as her son shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around this sudden change. "I guess it is a bit much to take in, isn't it?"
"That's one way to put it…" He stood up and brushed himself off. He looked over at Toothless and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. The dragon was practically sparkling, as though he'd just been scrubbed for over an hour, and on his back was a pristine leather saddle woven with gold trim. He didn't look particularly pleased with the getup, though, snarling and trying in vain to snatch the saddle off with his teeth.
"I guess dragons don't care for magic," Valka observed thoughtfully. "Okay, good to know."
"Toothless, settle down," Hiccup soothed, stroking the dragon's forehead. Toothless grumbled but did as asked. Turning back to his mother, Hiccup went on, "Thank you, Mom! This is all so incredible!" He rushed forward to give her a hug, forgetting again that she was a spirit and therefore not actually there…and for the second time in five minutes found himself sprawled on the ground behind her. Rolling over and rising once more, he muttered, "This is going to take some getting used to."
Valka chuckled merrily. "Well go on, son. Go to the festival. Have fun, throw your cares away for an evening, dance, feast." Then her face turned stern and she added, "But don't you dare get drunk, you hear me? If you do, I will personally come back from the spirit world and make sure you regret it."
Hiccup decided on the spot he didn't want to know if she was being serious or not. "I'll be good, I promise!" Then he leapt onto Toothless's back, latching his prosthetic foot in the special stirrup as always. "Thanks again!" he called, and then the dragon launched skyward, soaring into the night.
"Uh…" Valka held one finger up, at a loss. "Meathead Island is the other way…"
Luckily Hiccup realized his mistake, and a moment later Toothless streaked past, back on the right track. Hiccup waved sheepishly and was soon lost to the darkness.
"We're going to the festival!" he cried happily to his dragon. "We're actually going to—WHOA!"
Toothless pulled back suddenly with a startled roar, for Valka had rocketed upward to block their path. Hiccup was tossed backward out of the saddle and would have fallen into the sea had he not managed to grab the Night Fury's tail, holding on for dear life as his friend beat his wings furiously in order to stay airborne. "Sorry!" Valka called. "But I forgot to mention something important: the magic only lasts until midnight. At the stroke of twelve, the spell will break and your fine clothes will become rags once more. So you must leave Meathead Island before then!"
"Midnight?" Hiccup grunted, struggling to pull himself back up on his dragon's back and very nearly losing his grip. "Mom, clocks haven't been invented yet! And sundials only work during the day! How will I know when it's midnight?!"
But Valka only shrugged, looking just as confused as he felt, and then she was gone, vanished into thin air. "Great," huffed Hiccup as he dragged his body back into the saddle, latching his metal leg into the stirrup again. "What could possibly go wrong?"
A lot, in fact.
They managed to reach Meathead Island without further incident, but things started to go wrong almost the moment Toothless touched down. First, Hiccup got his prosthetic tangled in his cloak and did not one but two faceplants into the ground. Then he tripped over the threshold of the mead hall and did a completely graceless stumble into the room. Four separate people trod on his cloak in two minutes, nearly choking the life out of him each time. Someone bumped into him and nearly sent him careening into the refreshment table. Barely five minutes after his arrival he was ready to leave, wondering why in Thor's name he'd wanted to come tonight anyway.
And then the worst thing of all happened: he saw her.
Not that she was at all bad to look at. Truth be told, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. His heart came to a complete stop as his eyes bulged, taking in her gorgeous golden hair, her stunning figure, her sapphire-colored eyes, her full pink lips. In fact she was so utterly perfect that he fell in love with her on the spot.
Unfortunately people tend to turn into complete morons when they're in love. And Hiccup was no exception.
As it turns out, the girl saw Hiccup and was instantly drawn to him in a way she didn't quite understand. She was engaged in a one-sided conversation with none other than Snotlout, who stupidly thought he was impressing her with his manly poses. She grabbed his hand and twisted his arm around, making the appendage pop alarmingly. Snotlout yelped and whimpered and probably would have cried had she held the position a second or two longer, but she released him and walked away without a backward glance, leaving the poor lad (well, okay, maybe he deserved it a little bit) to nurse his aching arm. She approached Hiccup and offered a regal bow. "Hello," she said, and by the gods even her voice was beautiful. Hiccup felt his heartbeat throbbing in his ears so loud he almost didn't hear her when she spoke. "I am Astrid Hofferson, heiress of the Meathead Tribe."
Hiccup's heart stuttered and he swayed on the spot for a moment. "Uh…hi," he managed weakly.
Astrid waited patiently, raising one eyebrow when he failed to introduce himself. "And you are…?" she prompted.
"Uh…" What's my name? Dear Thor, WHAT IS MY NAME?! He floundered for a moment or two, so enraptured by her presence that he couldn't even remember his own name. "I'm…very pleased to meet you?"
Astrid blinked, looking unsure if she wanted to laugh or punch him, or perhaps both. Trying to save the moment (the poor fool) he quickly said, "Would you like to dance? With me, I mean. I mean, of course I mean with me. Like I would ask you to dance with someone else. That would be silly…"
Shut up! Shut up NOW! screamed a voice in his head.
This time Astrid's lips quirked, but she managed to maintain her composure. "Certainly." She led him onto the dance floor, and only when she started to move did Hiccup remember that he didn't know how to dance. And even if he did, he was so clumsy that he was doomed to failure. For half a second he debated whether or not he should just run, but Astrid was looking at him, confused, and he found that he didn't want to leave her side. So he launched into motion, praying to every god he could think of for guidance. And maybe one of them heard him, for while his dancing was by no means graceful, he at least managed to remain upright. He missed a step here and there and once accidentally trod on her foot, but on the whole he felt it could have gone much worse. And her reassuring smile certainly helped him feel better about the whole thing.
When the song ended, he found himself reluctant to let go of her hand, and she didn't seem in any particular hurry to remove it from his. So they merely stood there, completely unaware that people were gawking at him, wondering who this finely-dressed stranger who had danced with the heiress was. He stared into her eyes, dancing in the light, shimmering with unspoken emotion, and in that moment he was certain that this beautiful woman was his destiny. Everything was perfect.
So naturally he had to go and ruin it by opening his mouth.
"So this is love," he sang.
"Mm-mm-mm-mm
So this is love
So this is what makes life divine"
Astrid blinked a couple of times, wondering if perhaps this young man was slightly deranged.
"I'm all aglow
Mm-mm-mm-mm
And now I know…"
"Uh…why are you singing?"
Hiccup's mouth snapped shut, his eyes widening in shock. "Wait…that was out loud? I thought that was in my head!"
Astrid snorted and quickly put her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. "No," she said, her voice strained with suppressed laughter. "No, that definitely was not in your head."
He blushed. "Oh." Then he grinned like a dork. "Oops." Really, what more could he say?
The hours passed, and little by little Hiccup was able to relax and enjoy himself. He soon found that Astrid was more than merely beautiful: she was smart, shrewd, kind, and funny. She could make him laugh at a joke one moment and ponder some existential question the next. They spent the whole night together, talking and laughing, sipping lightly from mugs of mead, and occasionally dancing. (Hiccup managed not to step on her too many times, and he made sure to keep any songs firmly in his head.)
So happy was he that he completely forgot his mother's warning. No, not the one about getting drunk. The other warning. The one about the spell breaking at midnight.
But he remembered pretty quickly when a great booming gong rang out through the hall, making him jump. "What was that?"
"Just the midnight gong, that's all," Astrid replied, glancing around in the general direction the sound had come from. When she looked back, her companion had vanished. She blinked, startled, and turned to see him running for the doors. "Hey! Where are you going?! Wait!"
Hiccup looked back over his shoulder and called, "I'm sorry, I've gotta go!" His heart was hammering in terror. Any second and his finery would disappear, revealing to everyone in the hall just who he was. He'd noticed his uncle and cousin among the crowd several times that evening, and boy did he not want them to notice him here. So even though there were many things he wanted to say to Astrid, he merely ran, thinking only of getting to Toothless as fast as possible.
Sadly Hiccup's good luck was pretty much depleted by this point. He burst out of the hall and almost immediately tripped, hurtling down the stairs with a series of grunts, shouts, and yelps of pain. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" he cried as he hit each step, one after the other, rolling over and over like a loosed wheel off a cart. He finally came to a stop at the base of the stairs, his cloak draped over his head. He rose unsteadily and almost immediately fell over again. Bewildered, he looked around, raising his cloak from in front of his eyes, and felt his heart stop.
His prosthetic leg was missing.
He must have lost it in his tumble, and there wasn't any time to go back and look for it. Even now he could feel the magic wearing off, his clothes returning to their shabby state. He couldn't let Astrid see him like this. So he stood, using the banister for support.
And then he started to hop toward his dragon.
"Tooth—" Hop. "—less!" he called, and the Night Fury, who was curled up at the edge of the village, picked his head up, ear fins perked. "Over—" Hop. "—here—" Hop. "—bud!" Hop, hop. "Hurry—" Hop. "—up—" Hop, hop. "—we—" Hop. "—have—" Hop. "—to—" Hop. "—go!" Hop, hop, hop.
Toothless, apparently unfazed by his rider's panic, yawned and lowered his head again, closing his eyes.
"Oh—" Hop. "—for—" Hop. "—Thor's—" Hop. "—sake!" Hiccup grumbled as he hop, hop, hopped his way across the village square. "Thank—" Hop. "—you—" Hop. "—for—" Hop. "—nothing—" Hop. "—you—" Hop. "—useless—" Hop. "—reptile!" Hop, hop, hop.
Well, Toothless didn't appreciate that. Not one little bit.
He stood up, glowering, and turned away, starting toward the forest that surrounded the village.
"Wait!" Hiccup yelped. "Wait!" Hop. "I'm—" Hop. "—sorry—" Hop. "—Toothless—" Hop. "—I didn't —" Hop. "—mean it!" Hop "Oh for—" Hop. "—the love—" Hop. "—of Odin—" Hop. "—will you—" Hop. "—please just—whoa!" He took a wrong step and toppled like a felled tree, hitting the ground with a loud grunt. "…help me?"
In between labored breaths, he could hear the sound of pursuit. His head shot up and, in a blind panic, he started to crawl toward his offended dragon. "Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no!" he babbled. "Toothless, wait!"
He lunged forward and just managed to grab onto Toothless's tail.
A second later, the dragon shot into the sky, with Hiccup screaming as he held on for dear life. His remaining foot struck the top of a couple of trees, and he cried, "Ow! Ow! Hang on, bud, you have to – OW! – wait for me to get on your back so I can – YEOW! – steer!"
Toothless, however, paid no heed, still mightily offended at his human friend's insensitivity. (In fairness, though it wasn't nice of Hiccup to call Toothless a useless reptile, he was in something of a stressful situation, so perhaps we can forgive him his unfortunate blunder.) So Hiccup had to do his best: he wrapped his legs as securely as he was able around the dragon's long, slender tail and used his hands to control the artificial fin. It was a terribly uncomfortable flight home, what with the biting wind, the nauseating movements of the Night Fury, and the threat of a hundred-foot plummet into the sea, but at long last they came within sight of Berk, and Hiccup guided his dragon toward his uncle's house.
The moment Toothless's feet touched the ground, Hiccup's tired arms gave out, and he hit the grass with one last thud. He groaned and for a moment or two entertained the idea of just staying there till dawn. So what if he froze overnight or some farm animal trampled him? He was too cold and tired to move a muscle. Eventually, though, the thought of what Spitelout and Snotlout would say when they returned and found him like that spurred him to his feet…or rather, foot, as he was still down a prosthetic limb. Toothless finally relented and took pity on him, offering his snout in assistance so Hiccup could finally stand, and together they hobbled into the house.
"You know, Toothless," Hiccup mused as he collapsed onto his bed, "on the whole, I think festivals are a tad overrated. Two stars out of five. Wait, make it three. Astrid alone is worth a whole star." He sighed as he remembered the evening spent by her side, though his small smile vanished as he recalled every stumble, every foolish remark, every embarrassing incident he'd endured that night. "Well, on the plus side," he grumbled to himself as sleep encroached upon him, "at least she doesn't know who I am. She'll probably forget all about me by tomorrow."
He was quite wrong on that count.
Astrid Hofferson had led the band of villagers in a hurried search for the mysterious guest who had apparently vanished – none too quietly, mind – into thin air. No trace of him was found save for an intricately constructed, if slightly banged-up, prosthetic leg. At the sight of it, Astrid's face split into a broad, hopeful smile. "I will scour the entire Archipelago for the owner of this…uh…foot," she declared to the masses gathered in the mead hall (or at least to those that were still awake, which was less than half of those present by this time), "and when I find him, I shall make him my husband."
"But how will you find him?" someone asked.
"I will try this, erm…appendage on every one-legged man I can find. When I find the man it fits, I will know I've found the one." Then Astrid laughed. "I don't think it will be too hard. At least this narrows down the field a bit. I mean, he might have lost his boot or something. Can you imagine trying to find him just by his shoe size? What an ordeal that would be!"
Word travels surprisingly fast in the Archipelago, thus news of the heiress's proclamation reached Berk before lunchtime the next day. Spitelout burst into the house, making Hiccup, who was in the middle of scrubbing the floor, jump out of his skin and accidentally fling his wet rag into the air. It soared up in a graceful arc and landed with a splat at the base of the stairs. Spitelout ignored his nephew and roared for his son, who was still in bed despite the day being half-over. Snotlout appeared at the top of the stairs, droopy-eyed and bedraggled. "Get a move on, boy!" the big Viking commanded. "The Meathead heiress is on her way to Berk right now! Apparently the man she met at the festival last night left behind his peg leg, and she's going around the Archipelago to find its owner. You still have a chance to win her son!"
Hiccup glanced worriedly at his replacement prosthetic, a simple wooden stump which he hated but would do until he could fashion a new one. Thankfully his uncle and cousin weren't observant enough to notice his metal leg was missing.
Snotlout woke up pretty quick after that, though that might have been because, at his father's words, he gave such a start of surprise that he lost his balance and tumbled headlong down the stairs. Then, no sooner had he regained his footing than he slipped on Hiccup's fallen rag. His feet shot out from underneath him and he landed with a heavy whump on his back, the rag falling onto his face with a wet plop. "Really?" he asked, his voice muffled by the cloth over his mouth. "I still have a chance?"
Hiccup winced, partly in pity for Snotlout but also in fear of what his uncle would do. However, Spitelout was apparently too preoccupied to care about punishing his nephew. "Yes," he said, reaching down and hauling his son to his feet, tossing the rag aside carelessly. "But you have to be smart about it. The man is missing his left leg, so we need to find a way for you to trick her into thinking your left leg is missing."
It seemed to occur to Spitelout suddenly that his son was rather lacking in the smarts department, and asking him to come up with such a plan on short notice was perhaps more than Snotlout could handle. But there was someone else in the household who was very intelligent indeed. "You!" he barked to Hiccup. "Help my son find a way to trick the heiress into thinking my son is her mystery man. Whatever it is, it has to work until after the wedding, you understand?"
Hiccup didn't understand in the slightest. How exactly was he supposed to make Snotlout appear to have lost a leg? He wasn't a sorcerer for Thor's sake! But he knew better than to say this aloud, so he merely nodded, and for the next hour he valiantly tried to do as he was told. But no matter what he thought up, one inescapable fact continued to thwart him: Snotlout still had his left leg, and he couldn't make it simply disappear. Snotlout was no help, of course, making rude remarks when each of his cousin's suggestions fell flat while naturally contributing no ideas of his own.
Finally Hiccup lost his patience. "Well," he said sarcastically, "I guess I could always take you to the butcher and have him actually cut off your leg. That would be the easiest solution."
"Yeah!" Snotlout said excitedly, making Hiccup's jaw drop. "That's a fantastic…wait, what?" He blinked stupidly at his cousin, who merely gaped at him in stunned disbelief. Then he seemed to realize what had been suggested, and his face went pale. "Are you crazy?! Why would you say something like that?!"
Hiccup rolled his eyes and was about to say he'd been kidding, but a voice from the window interrupted him. "Hey, sounds like fun!" said Tuffnut Thorston, who, with his twin sister Ruffnut, had been conveniently listening in just for this brief cameo appearance so they could deliver the punch line of a joke. "Can we watch?"
Hiccup growled in irritation. "No. Now get out of here. It's far too late in the story for you two to be established as characters. Talk about shoddy storytelling."
(Gee, thanks, Hiccup. You know what, just for that…)
"OW! What in Thor's name was that, and where did it come from?!"
(Ahem…continuing on…)
In the end, Hiccup managed to bind Snotlout's left leg, bending it as far as it would go and tying the calf to the thigh. Snotlout wasn't exactly a fan of this process – "I can't feel my foot! Ow! Owowow! Do you have to tie it so tight?!" – but even he had to admit it was effective enough: when viewed from the front, he appeared to have lost his left leg from the knee down. "Now we just have to hope the heiress doesn't look at you from the side between now and the wedding," Hiccup muttered, frowning at the bulging, misshapen mass in the left trouser leg.
Astrid and her entourage arrived near sundown, and Hiccup's heart rate tripled at the sight of her approaching the house. Under Spitelout's orders he hid in the back while the heiress gestured for Snotlout to sit and try on the prosthetic limb. It was clear from the look on her face that she recognized him from the night before and was trying her best to be polite and fair, but when she saw his "missing" leg she frowned. "Didn't you have your other leg last night?"
"What?" Snotlout blinked. "Oh! Nope, no way, no leg there, no sir, I mean ma'am."
Astrid rolled her eyes but made no further comment, holding up the prosthetic. Only once it was raised did Snotlout get a good look at it, and by some miracle in the lad's pitiful brain, he managed to recognize it. Unfortunately for him, that was about as much as his brain was capable of handling, for he wasn't able to stop himself from blurting, "Hey, that's Cindercup's leg!"
Time seemed to freeze. Everyone stared at Snotlout, Astrid with confusion, Spitelout looking as though he was seriously considering disowning his son. Hiccup's heart came to a sudden standstill.
"Cindercup?" Astrid repeated. "Who is Cindercup?"
"No one," Spitelout said quickly. "Uh…he was…he was a servant boy we had around here once, but he left us and forgot his leg. Snotlout merely borrowed it last night for the festival."
"Yeah, I was totally going to return it!" Snotlout insisted, and Spitelout slapped his forehead and barely suppressed a groan.
"How were you going to return it if he's no longer here?" Astrid demanded, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Snotlout had no answer to that. He looked to his father for advice, but Spitelout merely scowled. He then looked worriedly to the door to the back room, which was perhaps the worst thing he could have done for himself, for it drew Astrid's attention to Hiccup's hiding place. She strode over to the door despite Spitelout's protests and flung it open…
…and Hiccup, who had been leaning on the other side, fell into the room with a startled yelp, landing with a thud and whimpered, "Ow…"
Astrid stared down at him, her face lighting up in recognition. "It's you!"
"Yeah…it's me…" Hiccup grinned up at her, wondering if he'd ever looked so foolish in his entire life. (Well maybe if you didn't insult the narrator of your story, you wouldn't find yourself in quite so many embarrassing situations. Just saying.)
Astrid helped him to his feet and had him sit in a chair at the table. She then reached out for the prosthetic leg, but Snotlout, in one last desperate attempt to claim it as his, seized it and cried, "No! It's my leg! Mine!"
But Hiccup had had enough. Gritting his teeth, he removed his peg leg and hurled it across the room, putting the resentment of many years' hardship and labor into his throw. The wooden stump spun through the air and found its mark: it struck Snotlout squarely on the forehead. He swayed, his eyes rolling upward, and then he collapsed to the floor. On impact, his bound leg sprung free of its cords, tearing his pant leg to shreds with a sound not unlike a burst of flatulence.
"Sorry about that," Hiccup said a little sheepishly to Astrid, who stared at him in shock. "I'm not normally so violent. But I've wanted to do that for a long, long time, and now seemed the perfect moment for it."
Astrid bit her lip, apparently trying not to smile. "Will he be okay?"
Hiccup shrugged. "Oh sure. He's got a thick skull. Besides, he's way easier to deal with when he's unconscious. Quieter, too."
Astrid burst into laughter. One of her advisors brought forward the prosthetic leg, and Hiccup helped her fasten it to his stump. It was, of course, a perfect fit.
All at once the room was bathed in golden light. Astrid gasped and shielded her face as next to her Hiccup started to yelp in pain. "Hot hot hot, very hot!" When the light faded, he was once again dressed in the finery he'd worn to the festival, still wincing in pain from the magic's power. (Hey, don't look at me, that wasn't my doing. I already established Valka's magic was painful back at the beginning. It's called consistency, as every good storyteller knows. What do you think of my storytelling skills now, Hiccup? Hmm?)
Valka, who had appeared in the back of the room, lowered her hands, smiling fondly as every eye turned to her. "Be happy, my son," she said, blowing Hiccup a kiss. Then she vanished into thin air.
There was a pause. Then Astrid said, "Well, that explains a few things." She then turned back to Hiccup and went on, smiling, "I'm so glad I found you. I feared I might never see you again after you left last night. And now that we're reunited, I have a question for you." She took a deep breath. "Will you marry me, Cindercup?"
Hiccup flinched. "Er, yes…but that's not my name. It's Hiccup. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III."
Astrid blinked. "Oh…but why…?"
Hiccup gestured vaguely toward the still-unconscious Snotlout. "The nickname was his doing, not mine."
Her face cleared with understanding. "Ah. That makes a disturbing amount of sense. Well then, Hiccup…will you come back to Meathead Island with me? Will you be my husband?"
Hiccup beamed. "I will." He leaned forward and kissed her, and she returned his kiss with vigor and passion that left him speechless when they broke apart.
"Just one more thing," she said as they left Spitelout's house. (Spitelout himself watched them go without a word, apparently too stunned by all that had just happened to string a coherent sentence together. It was almost enough to make Hiccup feel sorry for him. Almost.)
"And what's that?"
Astrid turned to him and leveled the hardest stare she could at him, a stare so intense Hiccup's knees threatened to give out from beneath him. "If you ever run away from me again, I will personally cut off your other leg."
Hiccup swallowed thickly and nodded. "Understood," he said, and to himself he mused, Love is a very strange thing indeed.
However, Astrid never carried through with her threat. She and Hiccup were married a few days later, and they lived hoppily – er…happily ever after. (Unless Hiccup has anything more to say about my storytelling, in which case I'm sure I can come up with some more trouble for him. No? That's what I thought.)
The End.
A/N: "So This is Love" is from Cinderella (c) Disney
