"Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars." - Dante Alighieri – Inferno (Canto XXXIV)
Exorcism
.
Spinning…
.
Falling…
.
Sleeping…
.
Waking...
.
Hiccup slowly came to as his headache vanished. He struggled to open his eyes for the longest time, mostly because he did not actually want to get up and start the day.
Where am I...
"I'mmm in my house..." he mumbled into the pillow without getting up.
It was too cozy in his own bed and under the warm, fuzzy covers.
It took a few minutes before he managed to summon the willpower to wake up and emerge from his comfortable burrow. He glanced out the window and saw a few snowflakes falling outside, but it was an otherwise bright and sunny winter morning.
He sat up in bed and stretched widely with a happy sigh and a wide yawn. He waved an arm to his side, felt nothing, and realized that he was alone.
"Where is she?" he groaned.
Then he noticed all the noise coming from outside the bedroom.
He swung himself out of bed, put on his shoes and robe, and strolled down the hall to investigate the noise.
I swear, if this is another one of her...
"Surprise!"
His four sons and daughters, Stoick the Second, Valharrama, Thorin, and Aesther, hopped out of hiding and practically attacked him. It was a vicious attack that would have felled him if there was any coordination at all in the attack.
"Happy Solstice, father!" "Thank you for the doll!" "Father!" "Papa!"
Aesther threw her tiny arms around his belly in a hug. He took turns gathering them all into his arms and ruffling their hair. Their smiling faces and youthful energy warmed his father's heart like little else could on a winter day.
"Alright, back up and give me and your father some room!"
Astrid walked up to them, and the children parted around her, running off to the kitchen and play room. She had let her golden hair down and was wearing her favorite fur robe. Her twinkling eyes, sweet smile, and tender embrace emptied his mind of all thought. He brushed aside her bangs, held her waist, and they kissed until they heard a couple of the children squeal in embarrassment.
"Good morning, my love," he whispered in her ear.
She stepped back from his loving embrace and grinned.
"Good morning, my Chief."
"Your Chief?" he blinked.
"What? Forgotten that you are the Chief, huh? Getting that old already?"
"Thank you for summing that up. No, I just don't want to be... a Chief today."
"No? What do you want to be then?"
"Just yours."
She rolled her eyes and then punched him.
"Ow, why would you do that?" he groaned.
"That was for trying to get smart with me."
Then she grinned at him and kissed him again.
"That is for later."
"You are sending me mixed signals here..." he smiled.
She only rolled her eyes at him again.
"Breakfast is waiting, my love. I'll see you in there. Kids! Breakfast!"
All four of them rushed past and dashed into the kitchen. Astrid then turned and followed them on their way to put the final touches on breakfast.
Hiccup stood still and looked around the house, around his house. The draperies on the walls, the portraits, the furs and coats near the door, the hunting bows and shields, all of it was intimately familiar and dear to him. He meandered over to a window and looked outside again. The village seemed quiet as was appropriate for a morning of a festival day. A few people were carrying around barrels full of mead or goats and chickens for the slaughter and upcoming feast.
Everything was peaceful and perfect.
The view was only interrupted when a black raven landed outside and pecked at the snow for a few moments. Then it looked up at him, stared with oddly blue eyes, cawed once, and flew off.
He felt a shiver down his back that had nothing to do with the weather. A raven was a messenger of the gods.
"Huh? What was..."
"Dad!"
He slowly turned away from the window and made his way back to the kitchen. Everyone was sitting around the table and munching on their flat cakes.
"Daddy, you're back!" Valharrama cried.
"Where else would I be?" he laughed.
"Father?" little Stoick asked.
Hiccup looked down at the young kid with the vivid green eyes, with his own eyes.
"Yes, my son?"
"Here, we got you something."
His son reached under the table and pulled out a large box.
"What is this?"
All four of the children chuckled, and his daughters giggled wildly.
"Oh, this will be good," Astrid whispered.
"You are in on this too?" Hiccup laughed kindly.
"Just open the box."
The box wiggled slightly, and he slowly removed the top of the box. A tiny nose pushed its way through the gap, and the young pup looked up wide-eyed.
It was a black wolf pup with bright green eyes.
Wide green eyes looking back at him...
He blinked in amazement.
"No, you did not!"
"Go on, daddy, hold him," little Aesther eagerly exclaimed.
He reached into the box and picked up the pup as it bunched up its little shoulders in uncertainty.
"Where did you get him?"
"Gobber found a den in the woods. Naturally, the Chief gets the best of the litter," Astrid explained.
"He's so cute," Aesther said with her little hands held out.
"Here, take him."
He handed off the pup to her.
"He is wonderful. I'm sure you will all help me train him," he declared to his kids.
"Yes, we will!" they all clamored.
"Go on and play, and you put the pup in his bed, Aesther," Astrid commanded.
"Yes, mom…"
He watched as each of the children scampered off.
"What do you think, my dear Chief?" Astrid whispered.
"I think they are going to have their work cut out for them."
"Oh, I'm sure they will. Remember that your parents are going to be coming over soon?"
"Right."
"Well, we can make sure that he takes the kids outside for a while. I think we should have some time to ourselves later," she added with a wink.
Completely understanding her suggestion, he grinned back at her and was extra motivated to help with cleaning up after breakfast. His children played and yelled in the background all the while as he helped tidy up.
He put away all the dishes and then wandered into his study. His fingers slid over the many old drawings and designs that were on the walls and the desk. They were prints and designs for boats, buildings, and gadgets, all of which helped the village in some way. They were always successful and had never failed him.
This study was his own little hidden world. It was a place of refuge that he knew he could always return to at the end of the day for lasting peace and quiet, safe from all else that was wrong with the island.
There was just one thing that seemed even remotely out of place. That thing was the little bed in which the wolf pup was dozing.
He knelt and looked at the little sleeping creature.
He is actually cute. Never thought I'd have a pet. Being Chief takes up so much time.
He stroked the black fur only to have the pup wake up and stretch its limbs with a wide yawn.
"Hey there, little guy. I feel like we are going to be good friends one day."
The pup leapt at his hand and started gnawing on his fingers.
"Hey, no! Bad boy," he barked while massaging his pinched fingers.
"Good thing you are still toothless…"
Toothless…
Toothless...
Toothless...
He shivered and trembled where he knelt. A shadow seemed to sweep across his view from outside the window. He steadied himself against the bed and sat down while catching his breath. The shadow eventually passed.
What was that?
Why did that word affect him so deeply? It was almost as if the word was deeply familiar somehow.
He immediately stumbled down the hallway in search of answers.
"Astrid, what is the matter with me?"
"Other than everything, nothing, my dear."
"Great, wife pity... I must be imagining things then."
"You do have quite an imagination, my dear."
He returned to his study, still slightly confused by everything, and stared at his own reflection in the mirror. His long hair, green eyes, cropped beard, and broad shoulders were all as he remembered them. Strange feelings seemed to pop up without warning and now he was imagining hearing things.
"What is wrong with me?"
He took some time to browse the papers on his desk. There were copies of some old Eddas, tribal treaties, and various pictures. Some were obviously drawn by Thorin and Aesther. The more intricate ones were of course his own as few possessed his own skill at drawing.
But one picture scrawled on old yellow paper made absolutely no sense.
His hands seized on the yellow paper, and he could not tear his eyes from it. It was a strange tail with fanned fins, or rather a single fin. He felt to be falling into the paper as the entire world warped around him in that instant.
Days in the forge...
Leather and straps...
Wide and round green eyes...
He blinked and shook his head.
"What in the… a fish? No… wait, whaaaat...?"
He had never seen anything like it before, but he somehow knew it intimately. It was too familiar. He nervously folded and pocketed the picture and decided to take a walk to give himself some room to think. Walking had always helped him before when something was especially bothering him.
"I'm going to go take a walk," he paused with his hand on the doorknob.
"Don't you want to see your parents?" a deep voice thundered out.
He slowly stepped back from the door and turned around. There, standing in the living room and grinning from ear to ear behind a grizzled red mane, was the great man himself.
"Dad!"
Father and son hugged and laughed heartily. Stoick pounded on his back in merriment, a beat which he eagerly answered.
"Happy Solstice, son!" Stoick's voice echoed out in the house.
"You too, father."
"Son!" Valka called as she entered as well from the playroom with the children.
"Mom!"
They embraced with her ruffling his hair.
"I brought meatballs!" she happily announced.
His eyes found his mirthful father's eyes just as they went wide. Stoick slowly and secretly shook his head with an expression of impending doom.
Understood...
"Thanks mom, I'm sure we can find a good use for them."
"Have they given you your special gift yet?" she eagerly asked.
"They did indeed. I'm not sure how we are going to train him since I've never done this before."
His father laughed and slapped his own belly, now a bit more vast than it had been years ago. His time since stepping down as Chief had been very good to him in his retirement.
"Oh, I can give you some help there. Just think about it, in a few years you will be known as Hiccup the Wolf-Hearted. And the little guy will go everywhere with you. He will be your shadow, your guard, your strength, and your best friend."
My best friend...
My br...
"Quite a high standard you're setting there dad. He already tried to eat me," he chuckled.
"Oh, that just means that he wants to play. Wait until he is bigger and can lick your face. It probably will not wash out!"
That does not wash out!
Hiccup winced and rubbed his temples at a brief flare of pain.
"Now, where are my grandkids?" Stoick roared.
They apparently took that at their cue to rush in and attack him. The battle ended very quickly with the four of them rolling on the ground in hysterics after a well timed and much practiced tickle defense from their mirthful grandfather.
Seeing his own father play with the children and be completely happy and carefree, unlike the troubled and weary Chief he had been in the past, was perfect.
Hiccup poured himself a mug of ale and leaned back in his chair while the fireplace crackled with warmth. He propped up his feet on a stool.
"I could get used to this."
He watched in bliss while downing the ale. Then he set aside his emptied mug of ale and put his hands in his pockets while watching the playful revelry.
He frowned when he remembered the inexplicable picture folded on the paper in his pocket.
There was no proper reason why a mere drawing would disturb him even through such a peaceful and joyous occasion such as this. Nothing should intrude on the lovely sight of his family all together.
That strange feeling of wrongness did not leave him even after several minutes. Instead, it only grew more intense until it was an almost tangible itch. An itch that he had to do something about.
"Dear, I'm going to go for a walk. I need a moment."
"Don't be gone too long. You are mine later, remember?" Astrid smiled.
He forced back a grin of his own, put on his coat, and stepped outside. The snow had completely stopped falling, and the cold was not truly numbing.
The first thing he saw sent a chill down his spine. That same raven that he saw earlier was circling up above and seemed to follow him as he wandered.
His walk took him past several houses lit from within with smoke billowing from each chimney. He passed the Thorstons, the Jorgensons, the Ingermansons, the forge, and the Great Hall. The few people he met were all happy and content and acknowledged him at his passing.
They are all happy. So why am I not?
He paused and stared out at the mist encircling Berk just offshore. Then he glanced up at the sky and frowned. Why did he feel that something was wrong or missing? It almost seemed like it was too quiet. Too peaceful in a way.
And he saw the raven fly into the forest and disappear over the trees. A physical chill seemed to fill the air at the sight.
What? Odin's mane, what is going on? Maybe He wants me to follow his bird.
He wandered without knowing to where, following a whispering that pulled him on into the forest and away from the village.
All sense of time seemed to be lost as he trudged through the snow and trees, one of which was oddly felled and leaned down a faint slope. Something about the faint clearing and large rocks in it seemed faintly familiar as there seemed to be an echo of a roar on the air.
What happened here?
A few more minutes of wandering left him before a gap in a rock wall. The path was obstructed by an old wooden shield wedged between the rocks in front of him. He reached up to pull the shield out and felt a faint shock when his fingers touched the wood.
Pulling out pins in the forge...
"How do I know this?"
He ducked under the shield and walked into the isolated cove. The little lake within was frozen over, and there was nothing much to see past the ice and snow.
What am I doing? They are probably all waiting for me by now.
"This was stupid."
He sat down on a pile of large rocks near the entrance, pulled out the drawing, and looked at the drawing of the strange winged creature in all its glory.
Wait...
Was that different from before? Wasn't it only a drawing of a strange fin last time?
He wracked his memory for the name of the thing. It almost looked like something out of a legend. Then he gasped and placed it.
"Loki's breath, it's a dragon!"
Dragon...
Dragon...
Dragon...
The faint words seemed to echo on the breeze and left his skin tingling. He shook his head and grimaced at a splitting headache that had erupted without warning. The moment only passed when he turned his thoughts back to the village and to his family.
Those things... are just stories. Who… who drew this?
The drawing was obviously his own though. No one else he knew of used pencils so fine or drew with such care. The drawing especially emphasized certain non-threatening traits of the winged demon, specifically the wide eyes, mouth without any teeth, and head tilted as if in curiosity. The depiction seemed too familiar for some reason as he paced back and forth.
"Oh, gods! What is wrong with me?"
Another shadow passed overhead with a gust of wind. He glanced over at the rocks near the entrance to the cove and saw nothing there. The wind stirred up the snow on the ground over toward the frozen pond though.
He looked around in confusion and slowly budding alarm. Seeing nothing else in the cove except for ice and snow, he warily walked over to the frozen pond and casually glanced down to see his own reflection.
And he recoiled at the image of the dragon looking back up at him from within the ice.
He fell to his knees and shivered, suddenly overcome by the cold as his nerves failed him. It almost felt like something had physically knocked him down and drove his breath from him. He eventually recovered his breath after heaving for several moments.
Gods, now I am seeing... things...
Some strange force or twisted desire bid him take another look into the ice.
There it was again, looking up at him with its expressive green eyes, ears, head frills, and smooth black skin and scales. It blinked when he did and mirrored his every move. Almost like it was his own shadow. A shadow with wings.
Shadowwing...
"What is going on!"
"Don't you know?" a voice spoke from behind him.
He flew to his feet, turned around, and stared at his own reflection. At a man almost his own height with the same eyes, features, and voice. It could have been his own twin except that it was slightly larger.
"Who are you? What is going on here?"
"It is me," the stranger implored him.
"No, stay back. I don't know you."
Hiccup pulled out a knife from somewhere and faced off against the stranger.
"No, don't," the stranger held out his empty hands.
"What is this trick!" Hiccup growled in growing anger.
"No trick. You know me."
"I told you I don't know you. Gods, I'm talking to myself. How is this normal!"
"Of course it's not. None of this is normal! None of this is real!"
"What?" he exclaimed in confusion.
"Do you remember anything? What you really are, what happened to you?"
He laughed at such absurd words.
"Of course I know what… who I am. I am Hiccup, Son of Stoick and Valka, and the Chief of Berk. What do you mean what happened to me?"
The stranger's shoulders clearly slumped.
"You really don't remember anything. Is it all gone? The island, the battle, the dragons..."
The splitting pain swelled and sent him to his knees in agony.
"Hiccup, you need to go back."
"Go… back?"
"To what is real. None of this, the island and the people…" the stranger waved his arms around, "is real."
"No! This is real to me!" Hiccup shouted.
"Do you remember the skies? The clouds? The wind on your wings?"
"Liar!"
He gave a savage growl and lunged with his blade.
"What are you doing? Stop!" the stranger screamed.
Stop!
Blow after blow were sent at the stranger, but it was too quick and parried every strike with its own blade. That it made no retaliatory attack further infuriated him.
"Why are you fighting me, Hiccup?" the stranger pleaded.
Hiccup!
He froze, momentarily appalled that this beast before him had dared address him by name. As an equal.
"How dare you speak my name! Fight back!" he screamed.
The stranger seemed a twisted mockery of himself. Almost like him but different. Speaking and whispering impossible and terrible things.
His own blade flew back and forth, his last strike only barely blocked by the stranger still wielding its own blade. But again, it never lunged at him.
"We don't have to fight! Please stop!" the stranger screamed.
Please stop!
Hiccup retreated several steps to catch his breath. And he wanted to be anywhere else. There was no sense fighting someone completely alone. Go back to the village and get reinforcements to come destroy the monster.
Answer the call.
Obey.
Yes.
He turned away and started to run toward the cove's entrance when he was tackled from behind and lost his breath. The stranger had thrown itself at him and cut his leg to prevent him from leaving.
He caught his breath as his anger swelled at the betrayal. He jumped to his feet as well as he could, feinted to catch the stranger by surprise, and launched himself to tackle his attacker. The stranger was not fast enough to dodge such a wild, desperate attack. It kneeled over with a grunt as his own blade sank into its belly. He wrenched out the blade and fell on top of the defeated attacker as his own anger waxed.
"I'm going to kill you. I'm going to cut out your heart!"
AND TAKE IT TO MY FATHER!
He froze as he stared into green eyes that were filled with fear and pain and completely missing the hate and anger that should have been there. Its green eyes that looked exactly like his own. Its green eyes that looked like a mirror in which there was a hazy, dark reflection.
He recoiled and stepped back, completely overcome by a haunting sensation of familiarity. Then he noticed that the knife he held was covered in blood. He stared in horror at the blade and couldn't even remember why he had drawn the weapon at all. Further, it looked familiar now that he looked closer at it. Was it the same knife that he had once... thrown away in this place? Thrown away when he met... someone... dear to him?
Why was he trying to kill this person who had not actually harmed or threatened him? Someone who had tried all along to avoid harming him. He himself had been the aggressor from the start.
The weapon fell from his hand as he stared at his bloody fist.
No... I... I did this…
And he was on his back with his attacker on top of him. He struggled but was completely pinned with the attacker holding him down by the neck with its own blade. The attacker howled its triumph at his defeat, surely about to kill him after his own failure.
He had not gone for the kill.
He shut his eyes in fear as his strength waned. His terrified thoughts turned to his home and his family. To the comfort and peace he knew and needed.
And foreign thoughts seemed to take shape and told him what he should feel and think.
I hate you
Yes, I do... do I?
You took everything from me
Yes, it... what did it take from me?
You are not my br...
Not my what?
.
Not my what!
.
What are you hiding!
.
"Hiccup…"
He froze at that voice that sounded very different, almost inhuman even, and yet was somehow familiar.
He opened his eyes again and looked up through a misty haze at the dragon pinning him to the ground. It was too familiar with its large and narrowed green eyes, midnight black skin and scales, large ears, and frills around its head. The image was very similar to what he had seen in the ice. Almost like they could be... related.
The dragon opened its toothless maw and spoke mournfully in perfectly intelligible words.
"Do you know me?" the dragon pleaded.
The name rose from his lips without conscious thought. The name, just like that hauntingly familiar sensation, was too much a part of him to be lost even if what the name meant to him was still vague.
"Toothless…" he whispered.
Toothless purred in obviously pained happiness.
"It is me... Come back to me..." Toothless whispered.
"What?" Hiccup gasped.
Toothless stepped back several paces and let him get up. Hiccup could not manage to stand on his own two feet, his scratched leg pained him too much, and could do no better than to brace himself on his hands. He looked around the frozen cove, only now noticing the strange spires of ice, foreign rock, and sandy gravel near the edge of the lake.
It was not how he remembered the cove. More menacing was the mist that seemed to drip into the cove from above and obscured the sun itself. Everything here felt good on the surface, but there was something twisted, missing, and... not true about all of it.
Voices and wants in his head and heart fought for his attention. They called him back to the village and summoned him to what he knew felt good. What was true? What felt good? What did he want more? Was it normal fog or smoke? Berk never had a fogbank in the winter. Why couldn't he see any other dragons? There should be many of them. They lived in peace with the humans here... didn't they? When did he and Astrid ever get married and start a family? Why did that feel thoroughly impossible? Where was Toothless in this world? Why was this dragon gone from the village and his own life?
Then he noticed all the blood from the suddenly terrifying stab wound he had dealt to this... dear... Toothless.
"I... hurt... you..." Hiccup moaned in heartfelt pain.
"It was not your fault... It made you do it," Toothless whispered as he stepped closer.
"No... I did this..." Hiccup whispered.
"You would never hurt me..." Toothless gasped as he stopped only inches away.
Toothless then closed his eyes and gently touched Hiccup's nose with his own.
"Please... you are my best friend..." Toothless implored.
"My best friend..." Hiccup whispered back.
"My brother..." Toothless barely whispered.
… your first ever fight with your brother...
… fly the same air in the skies of life...
… Almost sounds like us...
WHO...
MONSTERS...
Sorry, dad...
A helpless black dragon on the ground...
Cut out your heart...
CAN...
I could have sworn you had...
An eager black dragon bounding to greet him...
Everything we know about you guys...
MAKE...
You're not my son!
It's an occupational hazard...
I'm proud to call you my son...
YOU...
ARE...
A Monster chasing them both from the sky...
Hold, Toothless, now!
A roaring inferno stretching its maw wide...
Eternal darkness...
THINK...
A warmth nestled next to him in the shell and under the blankets...
Days of growling, hearing, learning, speaking, fighting, and playing...
Toothless, teach me flying...
Lick hurts. Mouth-water helps hurts...
YOU...
BAD...
Learning how to hold the wind in his wings...
A brother found...
Much like two-leg you are, Toothless...
What did you do!
A betrayal, pained flight from home, and searching the wild afar...
THINGS...
A brother lost...
DARK...
Reunions, family found, joy beheld, and love felt...
You are as beautiful as I dreamed...
I feel much now...
Fly the winds of life...
You are my kin also...
Shelter you with my wings...
Not-sire Shadowwing...
A mother found... A brother found... A family found...
WING?
Please... you are my best friend...
My brother...
Hiccup opened his eyes and clearly saw with acceptance, as if for the first time, his own reflection in Toothless's eyes. It was the reflection of a Night Fury.
And they both beheld wide, round, and fearful green eyes.