Twenty Four: Am I that crazy?
Chin aching from the impact and head still spinning that Astrid now wasn't going to be married to Snotlout against her will and he suddenly was allowed to be friends with her, Hiccup turned his attention back to the axe. The axe-head was now cool and it was time to start tempering, shaping and refining the weapon. Gobber was amused at his anxiety over a skill he clearly had performed many times in the past-though the fact that Astrid was sitting on a stool in the forge, watching him work and asking questions clearly had some effect on his confidence. But he heated the metal and began, step by step, to pound the axe-head into shape.
"So how long does this take?" Astrid asked. "I mean, I have never had a new weapon before. That axe was my mother's-from before she married. And I still have the little axe that Finn gave me when I was very small…"
"You can make a basic axe in a day," Hiccup answered calmly, his eyes focussed on the metal he was shaping. "But a Ceremonial Axe may take months, not just for the actual new weapon but for the decoration which may be with carving, inlaying and etching. And…that must sound incredibly boring for you…" He looked up-and found Astrid smiling at him.
"You know, you are much more confident-a completely different person to the guy who couldn't even hold a sword-when you're here in the forge," she noted, watching him move with confidence, his lack of bulk and stature not holding him back a second.
"Good thing you agreed to help me with my sword problem," he replied with a small smile. "I mean, I am totally grateful and…"
"And you really are coming along well," Astrid commented. "You are a good swordsman already-all you need is more practice…" Gobber chuckled, dipping a sword into the fire.
"Swordsman, eh?" he noted. "Stoick's a dab hand with a blade. Maybe you should ask him for a few lessons when he gets back." Hiccup suddenly stared at the floor.
"How can I?" he mumbled. "He's so busy and he has so many demands and no one wants me here anyway…except you and him and Astrid and…" But Gobber smiled.
"Stoick treats you like a son-and he will be delighted to instruct you as well-though I know he approves of you being tutored by Astrid," he told him. "Now off you go to get some practice in-and I will finish up the routine work. You can finish the axe later."
Gratefully, the young man laid the axe-head down and carefully placed the repaired haft, with its rebound handle, securely in the forge, before following Astrid out into the Plaza. But as they emerged, there was a gale of whispers, of people muttering and pointing and the sense of relief he had developed from the resolution of Astrid's problems instantly left him. Astrid glared across at the women and older Vikings but they just leaned together and continued their gossip. Shoulders hunched, he trailed along a pace behind Astrid, who was marching up the Plaza, her eyes flashing with irritation. Admittedly, she was drawing the eye with her bruised cheek and he was little better, with the swelling across his jaw but she was upright and proud as she walked across the village.
"…look at the slave…"
"…heard he ruined Dragon Training…"
"…turned down the Heir…"
"…prefers the bed slave…"
"…corrupted…"
Astrid's fists tightened, her knuckles white against her skin as she glanced back at the hunched shape of Hiccup, head down and seemingly cowed by the rumours. Calming her breathing, she slowed and waited for him to catch up before she walked alongside him.
"Don't listen to those muttonheads," she hissed.
"Pretty hard not to," he sighed, peeking from under his hair. "I mean, I'm glad you and your Dad have made up and that you don't have to marry…"
"If I don't want to," Astrid reminded him softly.
"…but I am still as popular as a dragon raid and an epidemic of Eel Pox combined," Hiccup sighed. "It doesn't matter that you are respected and beautiful and amazing because you are walking alongside me so…you have to be tainted…" He sighed. She gently touched his hand as they walked up the stairs toward the Great Hall.
"Hiccup-you have done nothing wrong," she reminded him. "You are under the protection of the Chief and what happened shouldn't define you."
"But it does," he sighed as they walked into the Hall the sudden silence causing his shoulders to slump. Astrid quietly filled them both bowls of stew and led them to a table, ignoring the hisses and looks in his direction.
"Then maybe you can make other things happen that will define you more," she suggested. He sighed.
"I'm not sure being a blacksmith's apprentice will outweigh everything else that they hold against me," he murmured, pushing his soup around the bowl. Taking a mouthful of soup, Astrid frowned.
"Then win Dragon Training," she urged him and he dropped his spoon, staring at her.
"But-but you…I mean you're…" he gabbled and she smiled.
"I have trained all my life, true-but you approach it a different way and your way works better than mine," she reminded him.
"But you need this to regain your family honour," he argued. "I mean, your Dad would be pretty annoyed that he has reconciled with you and changed his plans for your future only for you to throw away the one thing you really said you wanted to do." He sighed. "Not to mention that you are better than me at the fighting thing. And there are Snot, the twins and Fishlegs also in the class. I mean, they could…"
"Snotlout? He talks big and he's great at picking on people weaker than him but he never listens and won't learn so he will never be better than either of us," she told him firmly. "And the twins mess around too much to ever actually progress. I mean they could-they are actually pretty smart of you listen to them really carefully-but their family is beholden to the Jorgensens and they support Snot, no matter how stupid he is. And Fishlegs…"
"…is my friend and is a good guy…" Hiccup interrupted and she frowned at him then nodded.
"Acknowledged-but though he is knowledgeable, he isn't a great fighter and he won't win," she told him. "And he is a friend...but he isn't a threat in Dragon Training class."
"He may surprise you," Hiccup said, perversely feeling loyal to the husky boy. "I mean he knows an amazing amount about dragons and that could give him an advantage..."
"You have an advantage," she murmured back, smiling at his defence of his friend. "Him." His eyes widened.
"Shhh!" he hissed. "What if someone hears?" She glanced around and shook her head.
"Because everyone imagines you have some type of contagion, no one will come close enough to listen," she reassured him. He gave a small shrug.
"I guess there must be some advantage to being a pariah," he commented dryly and she grinned.
"That's the spirit," she reassured him as he finally started to eat.
Practice went well and when Astrid returned to her family after they had finished, exhausted and sweaty, Hiccup headed back to the forge, determined to finish Astrid's axe. He found Gobber sitting on his stool, supping mead from his mug prosthetic and enjoying the view across the village. He nodded as he peered at the sky.
"Weather's looking settled and there's no wind. Should be a fog tonight but that won't last because by dawn, the wind from the west will blow the clouds away. Not enough for too much snow though. There'll be a raid tomorrow night," he greeted the boy and Hiccup frowned.
"Most of the warriors are away," he realised. "On the Search. What do you do?" Gobber shrugged.
"Nothing else we can do except hunker down and hope they don't take everything," he said, taking another sip.
"Is there no way to call the warriors back?" Hiccup asked, starting to sharpen the blade to lethal keenness. Gobber chuckled.
"And how would you do that?" he asked. "They're somewhere in Helheim's Gate, amid the fogs, looking for the Nest. You'd need to be a dragon to reach them!" And he chuckled. Rubbing the back of his neck, Hiccup gave a small, self-conscious laugh as well.
"That's very true," he said helplessly. "Sorry. You would have to be a dragon to reach them."
Or know one. Thor, am I that crazy?
But in his heart of hearts, he knew what he would do after nightfall.
oOo
The forest was very eerie in the fog, the sounds muffled to a damp silence and the scent of damp earth and pine mixed with the clammy skeins of mist hanging between the trees. Hiccup had almost wanted to call Astrid, but in the end, he decided he should do this alone, so that if it went horribly wrong-as it probably would, knowing his luck-then she would not have any association with the treason he was planning.
Trying to move silently, Hiccup shivered. It wasn't as cold as the port because there was no breeze but he knew his hands were icy to touch as he followed the familiar path to the clearing. A chill ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature: sounds were muffled so he guessed he may not hear any wild animals approaching-or evil Vikings. And he shivered as he heard the snapping of branches and the crunch of rimed grass underfoot, tensing and turning slowly-to see the familiar shape of Toothless padding out of the shadows. A relieved smile lifted his face and he turned and ran towards the Night Fury, offering his hand and feeling the dragon nuzzle into his palm.
"Hey, bud," Hiccup sighed, giving the dragon a hug. He gestured to the sack he had brought with him. "I brought you some fish…" And he tipped the fish out. Immediately he was rewarded by a small croon-that turned to a roar of dismay as the dragon backed away. Hiccup frowned and then grabbed the smoked eel that the dragon was backing away from. Glancing up at the unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself, seemingly terrified by a dead smoked fish, he wondered what the story was but filed it away for future reference as he tossed the rejected eel deep into the bushes. There was a desperate roar and a Zippleback rocketed across the clearing, galloping at top speed, crashing into a tree and knocking itself unconscious. Hiccup stared at it in shock and then back at the Night Fury.
"Yeah-I don't like eel either," he said apologetically. "But I guessed you guys ate fish because you do seem to take a lot of it on the raids, so…enjoy!" Toothless gave a cautious warble, sniffed the pile of fish once more and then tucked in, demolishing the food in short order. Again, Hiccup was struck by the way the dragon carefully ate its food and rejected some yak jerky and a chicken leg that he had slipped in. Somehow, he would have expected man-eating monsters to wolf down any form of red meat-but Toothless only consumed the fish. It was a conundrum. And as he watched the dragon, he was again struck by the sleek lines, the huge wings folded over his back and the tail that flicked intermittently as Toothless adjusted his position to find every scrap of the fish. Then Hiccup sighed as Toothless sat on his haunches, licking his chops carefully and then inspecting the boy. He shuffled his feet self-consciously. "I need a favour, bud." He took a shaky breath. "I need to find the ships where the Chief is." There was a croon. "He went looking for the Nest." Toothless growled and then the boy sighed and walked cautiously forward, resting a hand on the dragon's neck.
"I wish you could talk," he sighed. "And I have no idea if you can understand me or not. But I guess there is something in the Nest that is in charge and commands the raids. Something you don't like because you're here, in the cold, rather than there." Toothless inclined his head and made a 'hmph' noise, his green gaze benign. "And I know Chief Stoick wants to find it but I guess that may not be the most smart thing to do. And I think the warriors need to come home because Gobber thinks there will be a raid and we need them."
Toothless crooned and stared up into the sky. There was an invitation in his eyes. Hiccup's emerald eyes widened.
"Really?' he asked and Toothless nodded, dipping his head to allow the boy to scramble aboard. Hiccup paused and then pulled out a large, wide belt which he fastened carefully around the dragon's neck, like the girth of a saddle. Toothless gave an interested croon and Hiccup shrugged. "Sorry. It was all I could come up with, what with Gobber watching. It's just to give me something to hang onto." He sighed. "Maybe if we keep this up…I could build a saddle, so I have something more secure to sit on?" Toothless gave an offended croon. "Or not…" he added hastily as Toothless bunched his muscles and shot into the foggy sky.
Hiccup leaned close to the dragon, his legs clamped against the warm, scaly body and felt as if he and Toothless were the only ones in the whole world. Around them was just the dark grey fog with no ground below or sky above, no sounds except the flap of Toothless's wings and no sign of any other life. It was just the two them, the despised, abused ex-slave who had been rescued by a Chief, scarcely welcomed and yet still had a couple of friends who made his life worth living-just-and the most feared and powerful dragon that against all reason, had appeared on Berk and befriended the boy. Two individuals of different species, one an outcast and the other alone, who had forged an unlikely friendship that would cost both their lives if anyone found out. And somehow, it didn't matter because the sensation of being on the back of a dragon was so invigorating that Hiccup never wanted to go down or go back. And he was willing to risk his life to feel this sensation again. But he knew he had to go on and find the warriors or the village would be in desperate trouble.
And then suddenly they broke into the clear air, above the fogs and the brilliant freezing sky was full of stars. Hiccup found himself giving a sigh of relief. He leaned close to Toothless, who was flapping away furiously, accelerating through the skies.
"Can you find the Nest-and the Vikings?" he asked and Toothless managed a single nod. They banked and accelerated toward the northeast, the wind tugging at Hiccup's fur vest and freezing his face and hands but he squinted ahead and pressed closer to the dragon. The heat leeched through his skin and he pressed closer, ignoring the cold in his hands. And up ahead, he could see another bank of fog, billowing in the starlight. Bracing himself, Toothless dived down into the gloom and as they slowed, he began to make shapes out in the fog: sea stacks, wrecks of Viking Longboats, smashed on the rocks and the odd piece of debris. Fearing the worst, Hiccup tightened his grip on the belt and peered over Toothless's shoulders.
Suddenly, up ahead, he heard the roars of dragons, the fog suddenly lit by brilliant orange and gold flashes of flames. And he heard yells and the hammering of weapons on shields and a familiar roar. Hiccup felt the breath catch in his throat.
It was the small Berkian fleet carrying their Chief, Stoick the Vast-and they were under dragon attack.