Sixteen: Definitely Not The Right Thing To Do.
"There's a dragon right behind you!"
Hiccup froze at Astrid's words and his head swung round slowly, wide green eyes meeting the acid-green gaze of the black dragon he had previously met, the creature mere feet from him. This close-and not in terror of his life from the Jorgensens-he could see the smooth hide with little scales making faint patterns on the rounded, flattened snout, the black pupils wide and unthreatening. He could feel the huff of the creature's breath on his hand, almost see the creature inspecting him as closely as he was it.
"That's…a Night Fury…" Astrid breathed. "I'll get the swords…" His head snapped towards her.
"No," he said quietly, fixing her image in his memory. He had heard that those killed in battle took their last memories with them to Valhalla and he hoped it was true, because that would mean he could take the memory of Astrid with him. "No-you run when it attacks me, Astrid. I want you to get away. You are the hope for your family and you have people who love you." He paused. "No one will miss me-not really. So if I can delay it and let you get away, my life will have been well spent."
She stared at him, her jaw dropping in utter shock and horror at his emotionless acceptance of his death. She shook her head.
"I-I can't leave you," she said. "This was my fault, Hiccup. I brought you out here. I insisted in training you. I put our weapons away-and that allowed this monster to attack…" Hiccup turned back to the dragon and saw the dragon edging a little closer.
"Except he doesn't seem to be," Hiccup murmured. "I thought dragons were supposed to be mindless creatures, attacking anything in their way?" The dragon gave a small croon and the boy frowned. His hand hovered by his belt and suddenly the dragon growled. Automatically, he withdrew his hand and sneaked a look: his fingers had almost brushed his belt knife. Tacking a gamble, he unfastened his belt and tossed it aside, effectively disarming himself.
"What are you doing?" Astrid hissed, frozen.
"What are you still doing here?" Hiccup asked her in a loud whisper.
The dragon gave a little warble.
"I think he can hear us," Astrid noted. "I'm not leaving you! I can help you fight it off…"
"Astrid-it's not attacking me," Hiccup murmured, snatching a brief glance at the feisty young Shield Maiden. "It wasn't happy with my knife but now…it's kind of watching me…"
"Hiccup…" The boy sagged.
"Sorry. I don't know about dragons because we never really got them back home when I was growing up. And on Berserk and Meathead, I was chained up when there were raids so kind of missed them. So all I can do is what I am based on how I've observed animals behave…and this dragon is watching us. He looks…curious. And he did the same last time I saw him."
"You saw him before?" Astrid hissed, her eyes wide.
"Um…yeah, before that raid where the Jorgensens almost…well, caught me…" His voice was ashamed. The dragon gave a reassuring croon. Astrid tilted her head.
"Hmm…he does look…friendly," she murmured and then pulled herself up. "Why did I say that?"
"Because it's true," Hiccup sighed. "Look, I don't know what I'm supposed to do in this circumstance. I mean, literally nothing like this has ever happened to me-though knowing my luck, I'll probably be eaten and blamed for all this!" He dropped his head and extended his hand, palm-first, towards the dragon. "Look, he can check my scent and…if he does attack, promise me you'll run…"
"Friends don't run out and leave friends," she said stubbornly and then her eyes widened. Hiccup stiffened-as he felt a pressure against his hand and he heard Astrid gasp. He stole a look-to see the dragon pressing his nose into Hiccup's hand, his eyes closed, giving a gesture of trust. Green eyes wide and face lit by a totally astonished smile, Hiccup turned slightly to the dragon as he opened his eyes and he ghosted his other hand to the warm, scaly muzzle, giving a tentative rub. The dragon gave a little croon and nuzzled harder against his hand.
"Unbelievable…" Astrid breathed as the dragon nuzzled against the boy's hand once more-and then pulled away. Hiccup was looking directly into the cute, puppyish eyes, the ear-flaps vertical making him look alert and friendly. Unable to stop himself, Hiccup smiled at the dragon and to his utter amazement, the dragon tilted his head, then opened his mouth, his lips and maw working into a weird but approximate smile. Hiccup grinned in shock as Astrid walked a little closer. Unwavering, Hiccup grasped her hand and offered it to the dragon and it obediently sniffed, then gave a little purr.
"I think he likes you," Hiccup commented lightly and the dragon gave a small warble. "I mean, I like you as well…" Astrid glanced at him-and smiled at the casual confidence in his tone, so different to his usual, defeated voice. The dragon widened his grin and Hiccup peered at the face. "Hmm…toothless…I could have sworn last time I saw you…"
Then a ferocious roar echoed through the little clearing and a huge and flaming Monstrous Nightmare erupted from the shadows, his acid-yellow eyes locked on the two teens, his pupils narrow vertical slits. With a snap, the black dragon's teeth appeared and he spun to face the approaching dragon, his back arched and wings half-unfurled. A growl vibrated through his throat. The teens backed away, realising the other dragon certainly wasn't friendly as the dragon turned his head, giving them one last look, his wide pupils almost pleading. His head jerked towards the forest and Hiccup nodded.
"Thank you, bud," he murmured. "Thank you. Be safe, okay?" And then he allowed Astrid to grab him and hauled him back as the black dragon flung itself upon the attacking Monstrous Nightmare and roars echoed through the trees. For a few long minutes, the two teens ran as fast as they could through the trees, until Astrid became aware that Hiccup was dropping back, panting hard so she slowed to ensure he wasn't alone. He staggered to a halt and leaned against a tree, panting for breath. Astrid stared at him.
"What-what was that?" she asked him in shock. "Did that dragon just befriend us-and protect us?" Hiccup looked up, still breathing hard.
"It certainly felt like it," he mumbled. "I mean, I probably did something wrong-but it wasn't threatening me-it was just watching and I guess…I guess I saw something of myself in his eyes…I was curious and so was he. And-and he didn't attack when he wasn't threatened. It just…seemed to be the right thing to do!"
Astrid stared at him and gave a bitter laugh.
"Oh, that definitely wasn't the right thing to do!" she told him bluntly. "Gods. Hiccup-if you tell anyone what you did, they'll cast you off the island…if you're lucky. They could just execute you as a traitor." He straightened up, his expression confused.
"Why?" he murmured. She shook her head and sighed.
"Because we have been at war with the dragons for three hundred years!" she told him simply. "They have killed hundreds of us…" Her voice tailed away and he suddenly looked stricken, recalling her words from earlier.
"Including your Uncle," he gasped. "Gods, Astrid…I am so sorry. You-you must hate me…" She took a shuddering breath and stared at him, his head down and shoulders suddenly slumped at the thought he had angered his only real friend. But for a moment with the dragon, there was the faintest glimpse of another Hiccup, a boy who had pieced together the tiny clues and what he could guess and recall and he had done what no one in her knowledge had ever done. He had been calm and decisive and brave and had thought about it differently. Astrid knew that on her own, she would have grabbed the sword and attacked…and died. Hiccup had read the situation and treated the creature with humanity-and they were both alive.
But he had been willing to sacrifice himself to save her, had been willing to die to let her get away because he had said-probably truthfully-that no one would really miss him.
Except me, she realised. And probably the Chief, who has treated him as if he were his lost son. Gods, Stoick must NEVER know about this.
"I don't hate you, Hiccup," she said quietly. "I am amazed because you thought to do what I never would have. You saw that a dragon could be a friend, not an enemy. Of course, not all of them are-and that Monstrous Nightmare was certainly wanting to eat us…but the Night Fury defended us. He sent us to safety while he fought the other dragon to let us get away. He could have just flown away and left us…"
"He was our friend," Hiccup realised.
"He was your friend," Astrid corrected him. "He accepted me because you made him realise I was important to you-but he came to you. He…he bonded with you. And I never realised that would be possible!" Hiccup shrugged.
"Um…sorry," he mumbled, staring at the ground. Astrid caught his hand and squeezed.
"No, you don't understand," she told him urgently. "I have lived all my life in Berk. This Tribe has been here for three hundred years-and every building here is new. I have been woken regularly at night during raids, have seen neighbours and friends and family injured and burnt and killed and there will never be an end. We aren't winning. We've been looking for the nest for-for ever! And the dragons keep coming, keep taking, keep winning. So if we don't try something else, we will eventually be wiped out. And it took someone from outside to see it. It took you!"
He lifted his green eyes, staring into her face with the tiniest flash of hope.
"Really?" he murmured She nodded.
"Of course, we can't tell anyone-not even Stoick. Especially not Stoick," she amended. "No matter how fond he seems of you, Hiccup, he's obsessed with the dragons. When his wife and son died in childbirth, he has had nothing except the village and he will do everything to keep them safe." Hiccup nodded.
"Um…got it," he sighed and shivered. Astrid sighed.
"We ought to get back," she admitted. "It's very late-and we both need some rest. I'll come round in a couple of days for your next lesson…and maybe we can think more about that Night Fury and how this can help us." Hiccup gave her a quick hug, secretly delighted as she hugged him back.
"Thanks, Astrid. That means a lot," he sighed. Her hand grasped his as they walked almost to the edge of the village.
"You know I can't talk to you back in the village," she sighed, "but I promise I won't call you any names." He nodded.
"All I can hope for," he sighed as they sneaked back home.
oOo
He was exhausted the next morning, for though he had dropped off to sleep even as Astrid was probably still scrambling off the roof, it had been a very short night. But when Stoick bellowed, he scrambled wearily up and raced down the stairs, pulling his fur vest on. The Chief was already at the table, drinking his mug of ale and chewing his bread and dried mutton as Hiccup arrived, mumbling apologies. Stoick paused and rested his mug down, eyeing the weary shape carefully.
"Is everything alright, Hiccup?" he asked in a soft voice. "You're normally very prompt…" The boy started and he dropped his eyes.
"Sorry," he mumbled, feeling ashamed. A tiny shiver of anxiety ran through him: was the Chief suspicious that he was slacking? But Stoick's next words made him relax slightly.
"Are you unwell?" he asked gently. "You look tired-and a little pale?" Hiccup shrugged.
"I didn't sleep well," he murmured. "Um…bad dreams…" The Chief's eyes narrowed, looking at the hunched little shape, eyes flicking over the bruises that the boy had managed to acquire.
"Is everything alright?" the Chief repeated. "In the village?" Hiccup looked up and sighed.
"I am very grateful for being allowed to stay," he said automatically, his words toneless.
"But…"
"But almost no one will speak to me and most of them think I will curse their weapons by touching them," he said in exasperation. "Sir-I don't know what more I can do. No one will even give me a chance. Even-even in the whorehouse, the woman were kind and looked out for me because they could see I never wanted any of it. But here…there is nothing I can do which can overcome the wrongs which were done to me." He sighed. "I'm sorry, sir. I know you are too busy to be bothered with such matters. All I want…is to be treated like everyone else…."
"But…"
"I'm not, am I?" he said quietly. "I am an outsider, a slave…though they know not to say it aloud in your hearing…and a-a…" He paused and couldn't speak the word. "I don't know what to do," he murmured. Suddenly, Stoick moved, rising and wrapping an arm around the boy, hugging him close and feeling the thin body stiffen…then embrace him back.
"I can't change their minds and hearts," Stoick told him gently, feeling the warmth from the skinny shape seep into his body. He hadn't really hugged anyone since he lost his wife. "Only you can do that-by your actions, Hiccup. Be decent. Work hard. Defend the village. People will come round…slowly." He pushed Hiccup back, huge hands closing gently over his bony shoulders. Wide green eyes looked back at him, tugging at his memory. "Get to bed early tonight, Hiccup. There'll be a raid tonight or tomorrow and you certainly won't get a full night's sleep." The boy sighed.
"I guess," he said despondently. "So when the raid starts, I head down to help Gobber?" Stoick nodded.
"You'll be safe and you can serve the people," he said. "A Chief serves his people. No job is too small." Hiccup managed a wan smile.
"I just want you not to regret bringing me here," he admitted. Stoick's big face cracked into a smile.
"I won't," he said proudly and slammed his helmet on. "Work hard, son. I'll see you for the main meal?" Hiccup nodded.
"Just try to stop me," he said cheerfully and grabbed his breakfast.
oOo
The day was as expected-Vikings blanking him or cursing him if he reached for their precious weapon, in case he damaged it. And though each rejection hurt, he kept a small smile on his face and cheerfully did everything that Gobber asked him to, because the Chief's words were still rolling around his head. He could see, however, that Gobber was getting more and more upset that his apprentice was being so badly treated by the villagers. Astrid blanked Hiccup-as he had expected-but worse, Snotlout came to the forge to get his hammer checked over and he refused to let Hiccup go anywhere near the weapon.
"I don't want…that…anywhere near my weapon!" he said loudly. "I mean-why would I want to touch something that…slut…has pawed!" The twins sniggered as Hiccup backed away, fidgeting behind Gobber as the big two-limbed smith scowled.
"Probably cursed," Ruffnut whispered very loudly.
"Definitely," her brother agreed.
"The lad is very skilled," Gobber growled ferociously.
"You keep telling yourself that," Snotlout said and then he began laughing. "Or maybe you already know…?" Gobber's eyes narrowed.
"Yer got a nasty mouth on yer," the blacksmith sneered, lurching forward and jabbing the point of his hook into the boy's neck. "If yer say anything else, Stoick can start looking for a new Heir because I'll send yer tae Helheim!" Then he lifted the younger Jorgensen's hammer and handed it back.
"Hey-this hasn't been repaired!" Snotlout protested angrily.
"Too bad," the blacksmith said. "Yer didnae want my apprentice tae touch it-and I don't repair hammers any more. Yours is a weapon fer girls!" Snotlout glared at him-but bit back his retort because Gobber was in charge of Dragon Training-and antagonising the blacksmith could mean he was excluded from the class. He growled and stormed away, the twins casting deeply menacing looks at Hiccup and the boy sighed.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"What are yer sorry for?" Gobber snapped. "Those evil little trolls think they can get away with saying whatever they want-but speaking against me or the Chief will get them into a whole Realm of trouble!"
"But I…" he began as Astrid and her father walked towards the forge and Spitelout began to stomp down towards them as well, his son in tow. Hiccup shrank back, seeing his friend's face carefully unfriendly and he sighed.
"What do you mean, not servicing my son's hammer?"
"I need my and Astrid's axes servicing now-by you not that slave!"
"I need a long holiday without yer mutton-headed lunatics bending me ear!" Gobber announced, waving his hook wildly.
"You're the village blacksmith!" Spitelout sneered. "You HAVE to look after everyone's weapons."
"No, I don't," Gobber told him bluntly. "Your weapons will be serviced if they come here but I will assign the work to whoever I decide. So if yer make conditions-or worse, yer insult me or my apprentice-yer can sharpen yer own weapons!"
"I will not have that…"
"Problems, Gobber?" a familiar gruff voice asked as Stoick arrived, his best axe in his hand. The blacksmith gave a wild grin.
"Nothing of any importance," he told his friend. "Can I help yer?"
"This man won't service our weapons!" Ivar Hofferson protested.
"Gobber has an apprentice who can ably…"
"I am not having any possession touched by that filthy little slave…" Ivar repeated furiously. "I have my honour and that of my daughter to protect and…"
"And Gobber refused to promise he wouldn't touch my hammer either!" Snotlout protested. Stoick stared at them and recalled his words to Hiccup.
I can't change their minds and hearts. Only you can do that-by your actions.
"Gobber," he said with a small smile, "could you get Hiccup to sharpen my axe please?"
Every eye turned to the Chief and three jaws dropped. Astrid remained expressionless, her azure gaze watching the Chief closely as he easily handed his beloved axe over to Gobber. The smith smiled.
"Laddie-one premium service," he ordered and Hiccup carefully grabbed the axe, his knees almost buckling, before he carefully walked to the grindstone, checked the damage and began to expertly sharpen the edge.
"Are you insane?" Spitelout protested, incredulous. Almost shaking with anger, Stoick buried his reaction and forced a confident smile on.
"What? In getting my weapon serviced before the next raid?" he asked pleasantly. The screech of the grindstone against metal sounded as the auburn-haired teen carefully worked the edge to lethal sharpness. Satisfied, Hiccup lifted the axe, then lifted a rag and carefully polished the blade and handle before handing it back to the flame-haired Chief.
"There you are, sir," he said clearly. Stoick smiled at him, a quick wink unseen by the haranguing customers.
"Good Job! Thank you, son," he said clearly and walked off up the Plaza, his shining axe twirling in his hand. Gobber grinned.
"I'm nae working any more today," he announced. "So you either accept Hiccup servicing your weapons or you do it yourself." There was a pause and Snotlout angrily handed his hammer over-but Ivar grabbed Astrid's arm and hauled her away. With a sigh, the young man dragged Snotlout's heavy weapon to the anvil to begin a routine service, his emerald gaze trailing off up the Plaza at the blonde shape. Even though he knew she would talk to him when they were alone, her father's intransigence hurt. Then a yell from Snotlout pulled him back to the present and he turned to his work.
oOo
The sound of a horn jolted him awake and he sat up in utter shock, emerald eyes wide and scared. The door slammed as Stoick raced down and he realised that they were under attack: it was a Dragon Raid.
He leapt up, grabbing his vest and hauling his boots on, then racing to the door, opening it-to face a flaming Monstrous Nightmare. With a yelp he slammed the door closed as a wall of flame hammered against it, feeling the wood shudder and the fierce scorch of heat through the wood. Then he pulled it open, emerging and tossing the bucket of water placed ready by the door over the flaming wood, before turning and racing down the hill.
It was chaos. Vikings were fighting dragons everywhere, curses and bodies flying from all sides. Hiccup was slammed aside and knocked over twice by fighting Vikings who just scowled at him or shouted at him to get out of their way. Cringing, he scrambled up, dodging through the villagers as he scampered down the stairs to the Plaza. Overhead, the huge torches were lifted, the flames illuminating the swarm of dragons swirling and circling over the village. Houses were already burning and he snatched a worried glance at the fire crew, seeing Astrid in the thick of the action, shouting orders as they quenched another blaze. Then a huge hand snagged his tunic and dragged him back a few inches from a blast of flame that would have killed him. He glanced up and met Stoick's concerned eyes.
"Be careful, son," the Chief warned him sternly and Hiccup nodded, breathing hard in shock.
"Yes, sir," he gulped and raced down the last part of the Plaza to the forge, ducking in and sighing in relief. Gobber looked up, already hammering away at a bent sword. Of course, living in a house attached to the forge, he had almost no distance to go when a Raid started.
"Good of you to join us," the blacksmith teased him, his voice warm. Hiccup managed to quirk a smile, shrugging out of his fur vest and dragging his leather apron on.
"Well, I guessed you may need a hand?" he quipped and Gobber snorted in amusement, his hook prosthetic replaced by a hammer for the raid.
"I thought ye may have been carried off by a Terrible Terror," he replied. Hiccup frowned.
"Are those the really small ones?" he asked, still not familiar with dragon types and Gobber nodded, his hammer clanging again.
"Aye," he confirmed.
"They wouldn't know what to do with all this…raw Vikingness?" Hiccup suggested playfully, bending his arms to demonstrate his impressive lack of muscles. Gobber chuckled. They had been playing insults for the last few days and Hiccup's quick and sarcastic wit was something the big blacksmith felt needed developing as much as his smithing ability and his confidence.
"Well they need toothpicks, don't they?" Gobber riposted. Hiccup grinned.
"Sorry, I got nothing," he apologised and the smith grinned in delight at his victory in the verbal battle.
"Yer know, I am really liking that wit," he commented, tossing the repaired sword aside as his assistant shoved three more into the fire and jumped up and down to work the bellows. "Yer developing nicely, lad. I'll make a Hooligan of yer yet!" Hiccup sighed, his optimism evaporating. He seriously doubted that.
"Yeah," he murmured, turning to the hatch and Gobber cursed as the lad grabbed the proffered weapons. He swiftly handed out replacements and the blacksmith noted that no one was refusing a weapon from the boy now, in the heat of battle. Gobber watched him professionally grab the next damaged sword, grasp it by the hilt with a leather glove and begin hammering it back into shape, his eyes focussed on the red-hot metal.
"Hey! I need bolas!" a voice shouted and Gobber growled in frustration, then grabbed a pair and tossed them to the impatient Viking, accidentally knocking him unconscious. Hiccup dug the sword back into the fire and scampered to the hatch, handing out another couple of axes and then gazing across the Plaza to see the fire crew in action. The twins, Snotlout and Fishlegs tackled a blaze while Astrid finished it off and for a moment, her azure gaze met his-before a screech alerted her and she turned. The fire crew were being surrounded by a gang of Nadders, their spines raised and eyes narrowed. Astrid snatched her axe off her back and the others shrank back, unarmed.
"RUN!" she shouted as she swiped at the dragons, her axe batting one back. The others closed on the trapped teens. Horrified, Hiccup grabbed a sword and dashed for the door as Gobber glanced up.
"Where're ye going?" he shouted to the retreating figure and then he saw where the boy was heading. 'Oh Thor-that boy just doesn't know how not to get himself into trouble," he groaned to himself, ripping out his hammer prosthetic and replacing it with an axe, then grabbing another axe in his real hand and galloping into the fray as best he could.
Hiccup danced through the Nadders, shouting and waving a sword fiercely. The sudden unexpected attack had them squawking and scattering enough for the others to make a break for it. But Astrid gave a cry as a Nadder battered her aside and Hiccup charged it, screaming and hacking at the dragon, hitting precisely nothing. The dragon hissed and batted him aside with its tail, landing hard. Astrid scrambled to grab her axe and he scrabbled for his sword as the dragons closed around them.
"Well, this was a spectacularly badly thought-out rescue," Astrid told him, her eyes locked on the Nadders.
"Sorry," he murmured. She stole a glance at him as he managed to get up into a crouch by her side. She flicked a brief look at his ashen face.
"You know, the others ran but you came to help," she said softly. "If this is the end, there is no one I would rather be with."
A flicker of warmth ran through his chest and a small smile lifted his lips.
"I'd still rather I was here alone," he said softly, his eyes scanning the area. The village was being raided severely and everyone was busy with their own battles: no one would help them. They were on their own. "There's only one thing left to try." So he dropped his sword, gently rose to his feet and cautiously extended his hand, walking slowly towards the nearest Nadder…