Chapter Thirteen

"HOOKFANG!"

Snotlout had immediately bounded out of the Great Hall after Valka's words, and he raced through the plaza of Berk like a mad man, calling for his dragon. "Hookfang!"

His eyes searched and searched, and even the dragons seemed to be alarmed by this strange person running through town, taking flight as he passed. Just from the corner of his eye he would see a familiar silhouette of a Monstrous Nightmare wing in the sky, but upon looking would be met with an unfamiliar draconic face. His heart was pounding, and he was only faintly aware that his voice was breaking every time he yelled out.

"Hookfang!" He called once more. He had been calling for several minutes and was out of breath, and it was then he realized that he was not thinking clearly.

Idiot, Snotlout thought to himself and brought his thumb and middle finger to his lips. He whistled hard, it was a low to high pitch, the last of it breaking into three staccato notes.

In the early years of dragon training, Hiccup and the others had practiced a form of dragon calling that imitated their dragon's roars. However, it did not take long to realize that the toll of imitating a dragon roar on the human throat was quite a painful one with time, and they switched to a much easier method. So while it may not attract wild dragons of the same species like a call would, each individual Rider had their own unique whistle to summon their dragon.

He hoped to Odin that it would work, because he very rarely used the method in his time spent with Hookfang. Snotlout continued to walk and tried again, though the whistle was not as loud as the first - he found his throat was dry, and the last three notes tapered off into a quiet rasp. "Hookfang," he tried once more, coughing into his hand, voice spent.

He had a thought, dark and fleeting - what if Hookfang had been gone the entire time, and the Riders were playing a trick on him in the Great Hall? Just as they were with his Mother and Father being - being -

He could not admit it, and found something come out of his throat, something that might have been half of a cough and a sob. His fingers went to his mouth once more and the whistle was shrill and wavering. Snotlout knew that it all might have been in vain, that there would be no answer, and that he came to Berk for nothing at all…

He heard a deafening roar echo across the sky.

Snotlout had his fingers halfway to his mouth and paused. He was past the circle of the village, on the path that led to the training arena, when he heard the roar again. "Hookfang?"

There was a thumping of wings, and a Monstrous Nightmare flapped from beyond the rock outcropping that encased the arena, eyes narrowed and head swivelling about. Snotlout found himself rooted to the spot, terrified that his eyes were deceiving him. "Hooky?" he said, but it came out as a croak, and then he was running forward. "HOOKFANG!"

The dragon flapping above snapped its head to the human below. The yellow eyes widened, and Hookfang darted down. The ground trembled under his massive weight, his claws stirring dust about, and then he started towards the Viking with urgency. Any other person might have shrunk back from the large dragon descending, but Snotlout ran towards it.

A horned snout pressed against him, nostrils wide and sniffing. Snotlout reached towards him, but Hookfang pulled back with a growl. He saw that his dragon's eyes were wide and franic, almost feral, the black pupils thin as a sword's edge. Hookfang was inspecting him, inhaling deep breaths and puffing hot air, pushing Snotlout this way and that as he nosed the Viking. Then the big head slowly lifted so that his eyes were even with Snotlout's, and he saw a sort of dawning realization in the yellow orbs.

"Hey Hooky," Snotlout croaked, and his lips were trembling as he said it.

Hookfang wailed, a sound that Snotlout had never heard come from his dragon, and he slammed his head into his human's chest. Snotlout threw his arms around the dragon's horns, "You're okay, you're okay, I'm back Hooky."

Hookfang was crooning and wailing, nuzzling his human so intensely that he was pushed to the ground and dragged all over, and Snotlout held on hard. "I'm sorry," he murmured quietly and there were tears in his eyes, "You were here this whole time, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

They held onto each other as Hookfang's cries quieted into deep, steady rumbling breaths, yet the tendrils along his back and wingtips trembled with distress. Then slowly, he used his snout to lift Snotlout to his feet and the two looked upon each other. Snotlout had the sensation that the dragon was studying him, seeing how much he had changed over the past ten years, and he smiled as Hookfang licked his cheek, leaving a trail of slimy saliva - this was the most affection the two had ever shown each other - before pressing his face into Snotlout's chest once more. He held on tightly. "I've missed you too, Hooky... I'm not leaving you again."

He went to the dragon's neck and choked at what he saw. Just behind the left set of horns, where the man had sliced Hookfang with his sword years and years ago, there was an ugly raised scar, pink against the reddish hide. It had to have been some sort of miracle to survive such an injury. He ran a hand over it and Hookfang warbled, looking back on Snotlout with pain in his eyes. "I know," Snotlout whispered. "You did the best you could. I should have fought harder, it's all my fault…"

But then Hookfang, the old familiar Hookfang, growled and snapped his teeth at him. Don't say that!

And Snotlout laughed, but his eyes were still wet. "There you are! I thought that you had gone soft on me."

And he held on to his dragon firmly, petting the long snout and jaws, and for a moment it was as if they were the only ones left in the world and everything was alright again.

He heard the sounds of footsteps approaching, and turned his head to hide his face. It was Hiccup and company, and with their arrival, the short-lived joy of seeing Hookfang came to a halt, reality crashing back down with full-force.

"Oh, look at that," he heard Valka say fondly, "I've never seen Hookfang look so happy."

I'm sorry Snotlout, they're gone...

They've gone to Valhalla.

It was beginning to sink in once more, the thrill of seeing his dragon dissipating and his heart began to thud harder. As dragons always seemed able to do, Hookfang's yellow eyes flicked to his human as he sensed the distress. He knew something was upsetting his rider and nosed Snotlout with a concerned grunt.

Spitelout was slain in battle... Calamity died of fever months later.

An image flashed across his mind, one of his mother sickly and thin, weak as she lay in bed all alone with no husband or son to comfort her. His breathing hitched and Hookfang nudged him again. Someone was saying something to him, but it was muffled and he could not look them in the eye.

Snotlout found himself grasping one of the curved horns. "Let's go, Hookfang."

And he moved to mount the Monstrous Nightmare. Hiccup held a hand out and took a rushing step forward. "Wait! Where are you going?"

To everyone's surprise, Hookfang reacted to the movement and hissed, snapping his jaws threatenly. Hiccup jumped in shock, and Toothless immediately put himself between the two with a cautionary growl. "Hookfang thinks he is just protecting his rider," Valka defended, "He doesn't know any better!"

Snotlout climbed onto Hookfang's neck. There was no saddle so he took a hold of one of Hookfang's spindly fins that ran along his lower neck and back. "Let's go," he said and his voice wavered.

"Snotlout, stop!" It was Astrid this time, "You can't just leave us again!"

Hookfang was hissing with narrowed eyes as he stretched his wings out, and Hiccup took the risk of the Nightmare lashing out and ran in close. He looked into Snotlout's face and was taken aback - there was panicked fear in his eyes. "Promise me," he said firmly, "Promise me that you will come back."

Snotlout looked down on him grimly, and Hiccup saw that the hands holding on to Hookfang were trembling. He nodded once, and spoke as someone taking orders. "Yes, Chief."

And they were off.

The first time Snotlout had flown, many years ago, was a memory that he would never forget. The leaping sensation, fear of the outstanding height both exciting and frightening, feeling weightless as the wind rushed past... it was something he had dreamt of and longed for achingly over the past ten years. But now, he felt none of it.

Snotlout was numb and shocked, and Hookfang beat his wings over the waters of Berk, hastily escaping from the village. They only made it a few minutes into their flight when the panic really set in. "Hookfang, down, now!"

His voice was frantic and there was no resistance as the Monstrous Nightmare tucked his wings close to his body, darting down to a lone sea stack. They had not completely touched down when Snotlout vaulted off of the dragon's back, and he found himself doubled over and sucking in deep breaths. "Oh my Gods," he breathed, closing his eyes tight, "Mom, Dad…"

They were gone. He was too late.

Hookfang's head appeared beside him, the dragon rumbling in concerned distress. Snotlout lowered himself to the ground and pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes, the metal gauntlets cold against his face. It just couldn't be possible. Both of his parents were so strong and stubborn. When he had visions of returning to Berk, never once did he stop to think that this could have happened.

He was too late, and his parents had gone to Valhalla with the belief that their son never came back for them. He was horrible. He had waited too long, and now his mother and father were... Snotlout made a choking sound and bit into his hand to stifle himself, but his eyes were no longer wet.

The two of them spent hours on the sea stack, Hookfang with his head in Snotlout's lap, occasionally crooning to soothe his rider. And within Snotlout was an ache, a pressure that grew and grew to the point he thought he may burst, but still he did not shed any tears.

When they returned to the island, Berk was sleeping under a full moon.

Hookfang drifted soundlessly above the rooftops, and was careful to mute his wing flaps as best as he could upon descending. Snotlout was within eyesight of one or two men that were on watch, but they did not react to his arrival. The pair landed outside of the Jorgenson home quietly. Snotlout dismounted and he moved like a man twice his age, tired and brittle. He would have been fine staying the night on the sea stack, but he planned to keep his promise to Hiccup, no matter how much he did not want to. As his Father would say, 'a Jorgenson always pays his debts.'

He went inside without bothering to light a fire or sconce, and dust particles lazily drifted through the dark room. Hookfang let himself in behind him, awkwardly twisting his body to fit through the door, and Snotlout almost turned to the dragon with his finger to his lips - but then he remembered. It would not be necessary, for Spitelout was not here to care whether his dragon was inside or not.

Without thinking, his body moving on its own accord, he found himself standing in his parents bedroom and looking upon the unmade bed, a coating of dust on the heap of furs. Like a child seeking comfort from a nightmare, he climbed into his Mother and Father's bed, curled into a ball, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

"Hello?"

Snotlout was already awake, but he did not move. Hookfang had managed to fit his body into the bedroom the night before (while breaking the door frame in the process), filling most of the space inside, and rumbled suspiciously at the sound. Snotlout could hear the floorboards creaking as someone moved through the Jorgenson home. "Snotlout," the voice called out again, and he recognized who it belonged to. Despite being awake, his senses were foggy and for a moment it felt that he might have been dreaming still - it had been so long since he heard that voice. He pulled a fur over him and turned to face away from the door, and he felt Hookfang move as if to shield his rider, protectively putting the bulk of his body at the end of the bed.

When she reached the entrance of the bedroom, Astrid was met with a glowering Monstrous Nightmare, and he snorted a plume of smoke at her. "I'm not going to take him away, Hookfang," she said with a note of disdain in her voice. She referred to the person that was just a shapeless bundle on the bed, and then she added a bit more softly, "Breakfast is in the Great Hall. You should eat… both of you."

There was no response, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Snotlout was not asleep.

"We all need to talk, when you're ready."

Again, nothing.

"I met your friend Adelaide this morning. She seems nice. Different, but nice."

She waited for an answer of any kind, but without one, she turned to go with a heavy sigh - not one of exasperation, but worry. Snotlout waited until he heard her footsteps leave the building and the door close behind her, and then he rolled onto his back and stared unblinking at the ceiling. Satisfied, Hookfang returned to his post, chin resting on the bed near his human's hand and closed his eyes to doze. Snotlout was… numb.

When they had left the seastack the night before, he seemed to have finally gotten the shakes out of him. But the weight in his chest still clung to him, neither growing or subsiding, just persisting. But he did not shed tears, he did not scream or shout at his loss. He clenched his eyes shut and curled into himself again, falling in and out of sleep throughout the day.

The most movement he made was during the second night when he sat up and began undoing the straps to his cuirass, removing his armor. Tonight, he was slow and sluggish and it felt as though it took hours. There were indentations in his skin from donning the suit for far too long, and he let the pieces of steel fall to the floor with heavy thuds. During the next morning, he woke up to the front door closing, though there were no footsteps. Someone had left, and Hookfang was in the space between the door and bed again, having warded someone off. He never knew who it was that came and fell back into sleep.

Around midday, Hookfang's stomach rumbled loudly and the dragon made a sound of discontent. "Hooky," Snotlout said and it was the first time he spoke in two days, his voice hoarse, "Go get some food."

But the dragon snorted and stubbornly ignored him. "Hookfang," he tried again. "Really, go. I know you're hungry."

There was conflict in the Monstrous Nightmare's eyes, and he nosed at Snotlout's arm. He wanted to stay, but his stomach growled again. Snotlout was just as hungry, but tending to the matter seemed so small and insignificant. "I'll be fine. Please? Go get something to eat. Do it for me."

So Hookfang hesitantly moved to the door. He made a sound behind him, as if to say don't you move, before squeezing through the door and Snotlout was alone.

He lay on his side and unblinkingly gazed ahead. Against the wall was an oak table and his parent's things sat on its surface - a washing basin, a figurine of Odin, and an open book. He had a memory, one of himself sitting on this very bed when he was just a boy and flipping the pages of a book curiously, still learning to read. That was when Spitelout entered the room and gave his son a whack - not enough to really hurt - on the back of the head, exclaiming, "Don't go through your mother's things!" His father was always smacking him, reprimanding him.

And Snotlout laughed at this recollection, but it came out as a choke and he was not smiling. He did not move for several minutes, and he heard the door open again, but it was not the heavy thuds of Hookfang padding in that followed. This person moved as if they were uncertain, and there was a voice in the doorway. "Snotlout?"

He turned to see Adelaide entering the room and she carried something in her hands - a tray filled with food and a tankard. It was surreal. Two conflicting worlds met as she, an image of his new life, strode into the bedroom of his childhood home. He found himself sitting up and she was frowning. "You look awful."

He didn't say anything, and she moved some things on the table to set the tray down. An irrational annoyance crept over him to see her moving his parent's things about without concern. She sat on the edge of the bed, analyzing him in that clinical way of hers. He knew the look - and she disapproved. "I lost Juniper," Adelaide finally said. "I couldn't hold on. She was scared of the dragons and took off. I wanted to go look, but it's been hectic and someone said something about wild dragons… I'm sorry."

And she looked deeply worried. He knew that she loved Juniper. And he hated that he was oddly indifferent to this news about his horse, yet he responded - "I'll find her." Her gaze only hardened at his hoarse voice.

"You're not well," she said evenly.

He did not feel very well, either. The pressure in his chest was persistent and sometimes it felt as if it pulsed behind his eyes and in his ear drums, and he waited for something to happen - something to break the tension - but it never came. "You should eat," Adelaide said, but she presented it as an order.

"It's okay," he settled back in bed, drawing the furs close to his neck. The house always felt so cold these past few days. She was unnerved by just how monotone his voice was and he added, "You should leave before my dragon comes back. He doesn't know you and won't be happy."

That seemed to be effective. Snotlout should have felt guilt at using her fear of the dragons against her, but he was numb to the world. Adelaide stood and looked as if she wanted to say something, but simply moved the tray closer to him, on the floor beside the bed before turning to go. "Eat before the dust settles on your food."

He moved in and out of sleep uneasily, once waking in a panic thinking that Hookfang was still very dead. But the dragon was right beside him again, having come in silently and he just looked on his rider fondly. He pushed the tray of food that Adelaide had left closer to the bed with his snout. Snotlout ran his hand over the dragon's muzzle as if to show he appreciated the gesture but rolled back to his side and closed his eyes. So Hookfang flexed his stomach and did what he thought would be the next best thing - regurgitate two half-eaten fish onto the floor beside Snotlout's pillow, but that went ignored as well.

On the evening of his third day at the Jorgenson home, the downstairs door opened again, and it woke Snotlout. Despite his stay in a bed for three days, his body was stiff and tired upon awakening. The steps entering his home were purposeful and uneven, and he wished that he had taken the time to lock the front door when Hiccup strode into the room. Hookfang barked and Snotlout sat up groggily, raising an arm to shield his face, feeling terribly exposed. He was sure that he was finally being banished. "I'll leave-"

"No," Hiccup said firmly, with his hands on his hips and even Hookfang faltered from 'protecting' his human. "No, you are coming with me. Get up."

The sun had not quite set but the sky was warm with it's last rays, soft orange and lilac.

Snotlout was not entirely sure why he had come, or why he had listened to Hiccup so easily without question. Earlier, Hiccup had left the room to let him pull his armor over the mail that he had slept in, and had not said a word since. Moving through Berk, he was extremely exhausted despite the way he spent his past few days, and he felt it with each step and squint against the sunset. He was certain he was being led to the docks, where he would be put on a boat and sent on his way. Hookfang and Toothless followed behind, and it seemed as if they were sharing some heated words over the Monstrous Nightmare's recent behavior, hissing and bickering amongst themselves. He uncertainly trailed just a step behind his cousin, and they found themselves outside of the Haddock house.

"One second," Hiccup said and darted inside.

At his arrival, there were the sounds of children's voices exclaiming and hollering, and it only took a moment before Hiccup emerged with a bundle in his arms, held by cloth. "Let's go," he said and began walking off again.

Snotlout cast a look at the house, realizing that Hiccup must have had children now, and he felt a peculiar sensation at the thought. Whatever was bundled up in Hiccup's hands clinked like metal with each step. They did not take the route to the docks after all, and Hiccup led them to a grassy overlook on the edge of the village far behind the backs of houses. He turned to the two dragons. "Can you give us a moment? Hang back here, bud."

Toothless sat himself down, and when Hookfang defiantly strode after the Vikings despite the request, the Night Fury growled a warning. Though displeased, Hookfang lowered himself to lay on the ground and kept an eye on his human, showing his annoyance with puffs of smoke rings and glares at the alpha dragon to his side.

Hiccup walked to the edge of the overlook where they could look out on a glimmering sea and gestured for Snotlout to join him. He spoke, and he was looking out into the water. "When my father died, I thought I'd never get over it. Well, I suppose you never really just… get over it. I still miss him, and I think of him everyday."

He spoke as if to himself and Snotlout watched curiously. "You know, as Vikings it's like we're supposed to be so accustomed to death with our lifestyle, and expected to just accept it when that pyre is lit, as if that is all it takes to move on. As if that is just the end of grief. But now I know, it's not that easy."

Snotlout did not speak and the two stood together in silence for a moment, the ocean wind rustling their hair about and the sun was lowering into a spectacular sunset. "I'm sorry about your parents, Snotlout. I really am. It's hard, and it takes time, but it will get better. I promise. Here."

And then he held the bundle out to Snotlout, the things inside it shifting and clinking. "I think I held on to these because some part of me wasn't ready to accept you were gone, and I'm glad I did."

Snotlout took the bundle and removed the cloth. His throat tightened at what he saw. His mother's circlet, and his father's helmet and sword. And somehow, though he had no idea how, there was his old helmet as well - the one swiped from him on the slave traders ship years ago, and he looked to Hiccup in shock.

"Well, our tracking dragons found something," Hiccup said to answer his unspoken question, and he was frowning. "You just weren't in it."

The pressure in his chest pulsed wildly. "Hiccup," was all he said, and he sounded afraid as he held the items out before him.

"Here," Hiccup said calmly and gestured to the grassy overlook, "You need to have your goodbye, too."

Snotlout realized what he meant and his grip on the things tightened.

Oh Gods, it was a funeral.

He stood dumbly for a long moment. His eyes flicked between Hiccup's outstretched hand and the overlook in realization, and to his cousin's face. He did not want to do it, he did not want to accept this. It should not even be happening - but it was what he had to do. It was the least that he could do after all of this time. Snotlout felt as if he may be sick, and he inhaled a deep quivering breath.

He shifted the helmet and circlet to one hand as he thrust the point of his father's sword into the Earth. The crunch of the blade in the soil felt as though it penetrated his chest. He barely realized that his hands were trembling and he rested the circlet and helmet on it's raised hilt. He found himself looking to Hiccup, and saw that he had somber eyes and an understanding smile and he nodded as if encouraging him to continue.

Snotlout drew his own greatsword, it's point wobbling as his hand shook. It was the first time he had held the weapon without confidence. And he lowered it before him, point resting on the ground as he took to his knee and dipped his head down - the warrior's goodbye.

The tension finally broke. He cried for the first time over his mother and father.

It was painful and wonderful all at the same time, and he was humiliated for Hiccup to see him like this, but he could not stop. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he shrank away from the touch and covered his face with his hands. "No, d-don't…"

"It's alright," Hiccup said softly, and it only made it worse, Snotlout sobbing and choking.

It was the sort of crying that left one breathless, and it was then he realized he was stupid to think that Hiccup had ever hated him, that he let himself become so bitter and angry for the past ten years at his friends. He was such a fool to think in such a way, and he was not only grieving for his parents, but the friends he had missed so much but forced himself to resent over time. By the time the tears stopped coming, his throat was raw and he was gasping for breath, and the sunset had darkened to deep violet. Stars twinkled overhead as the sky darkened.

"I can't stop you," he heard Hiccup say and for a moment he thought the crying would begin all over again, "I can't stop you if you insist on leaving. I really wish you won't though. I don't know where you've been or what you've been through, and maybe you'll tell me one day when you're ready, but Berk is your home. No matter what."

Snotlout was calming his breath and he swiped at his eyes, straightening his back from where he had been hunched over and his muscles ached from it. He tried to speak with confidence but his voice was pitchy. "Please- please don't tell anyone about this."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hiccup said with a knowing chuckle. "Well, what do you say?"

Snotlout looked to his cousin, and saw that he was offering a hand to help him up.

Still unable to meet Hiccup's gaze from his embarrassment, he looked to the offered hand in apprehension. He had sworn to himself for such a long time that Berk was no longer his home. At this very moment, he was only an outsider and a stranger to Berk. He already had his chance, and he did not have any family left. But then he looked to his side and saw Hookfang gazing upon them, and he met Hiccup's gaze and only saw understanding in his eyes.

Snotlout uncertainly took his hand. "I'll… I'll try."

A/N. Hello, my dudes! Hope everyone out there is being safe and well during the COVID-19 situation. For me, work will be closed for quite a while so hopefully I'll be able to do a lot of writing with all this free time. This was an especially hard chapter, and I struggled with writing this one quite a bit, so I hope everything came out okay. This chapter marks the end of Part I, so things may change up quite a bit following this post. Also, today happens to be my birthday, so any reviews would be especially appreciated ;) Everyone take care! - Rummybones