Twenty Six: Almost a victim
Exhausted, the next morning came entirely too soon for Hiccup. He had slept incredibly badly, even though he hadn't been that late, because his sleep had been fractured by the images of that enormous head eating other dragons and chomping its way through the longboats and Vikings of Berk. Of Stoick and Gobber and Mulch and Bucket and Astrid leading the futile, heroic charge against the monster and being stomped to oblivion or incinerated with its volcanic fire. It made for very poor sleep. Even sitting up and sketching hadn't been able to purge the horrible images from his brain-though he had managed a couple of good likenesses of Astrid, Stoick, Gobber, Fishlegs and Toothless safely completed in the back of his notebook. But it didn't make up for the lack of rest.
Dragging his exhausted body from the bed, he had got washed and ready, eaten some cold fish stew with Gobber and gone off to check on Bucket, who was trying to milk a chicken when Hiccup arrived. Bemused but realising why the man was as he was, Hiccup kindly helped him to chase down the yak heifers, whose udders were groaning with milk, prised a sheep out of the chicken coop and rounded up the chickens, who were nesting around the field. It had been a brief reminder of those awful unending days of toil as a slave, doing every task required on the farms of Berserk and Meathead from dawn to dusk with very little food and a ready whip as his only rewards. But here on Berk, there was no overseer, no whips and no master screaming at him to work faster and harder, even though he was at the end of his strength. Here, there was a simple but kindly man who was grateful for the help and asking for direction from a former slave simply because his Chief and his friend had told him to trust Hiccup.
He gave a small smile at the irony and then turned back to his task. He had been asked by Stoick to help Bucket and through all his other concerns and worries, he was determined to do his duty. Calmly picking up all the misplaced eggs and racking them in the cool store, the boy asked a willing Bucket to put out the feed and water with him and then asked Bucket if he minded weeding the fields. Happy to be given direction rather than having to remember what he was supposed to do, Bucket happily gave the boy some cheese and bread for a midday meal and then headed out with his hoe while Hiccup trudged back to the village.
Immediately, he felt eyes on him and he paused, listening for the sounds of breaths. There was a rustle behind him and in fear, he put his head down and began to run, instantly hearing the crash of someone breaking cover from the brush and pounding after him. Panicking, he glanced over his shoulder and saw the twins on his tail and when he was looking, he tripped and almost fell, allowing them to close right up on him.
"Grab him!" Tuff growled and lunged at him, but Hiccup ducked under the grasping arms and flailed wildly as he almost fell again, veering sideways and haring dangerously down the incredibly steep slope of the upper village. Another swipe had him ducking and this time, he did lose his footing, pitching forward with a cry. His momentum caused him to roll down the slope, out of control and helpless. As he rolled, he could see the twins laughing at him as he sped up and careered perilously towards the drop down to the next level. Tensing, he closed his eyes and tucked his head in, anticipating a nasty drop.
Something hit him hard and he tumbled to a halt, almost squashed under the person who had landed on him. Hiccup groaned, the breath knocked out of him and after a long moment, he stirred.
"Ow," he whined. "Could you get off of me now please?"
"Oh, sorry!" Fishlegs said in an embarrassed voice.
"If nothing else, people will talk," Hiccup added dryly as the larger boy levered himself off the squashed auburn-haired teen.
"They already talk," Fishlegs muttered in an unhappy voice as Hiccup sat up and rubbed his left arm, which was bruised and feeling sore. Grimacing, Hiccup looked at him.
"Fish? Are you okay?" he asked and the bigger boy and the husky boy sat beside him, shrugging.
"I've heard Alva Jorgensen saying I'm…well, into guys…because I'm friends with you," he revealed as Hiccup sighed, rubbing his elbow some more.
"Oh," was all he could say, a sense of shame washing over him once more. He was still trying to think what harm he had ever done to the woman, apart from existing and he realised, with a resigned sigh, that his existence was too much of an affront to her to be tolerated. Even though it was nothing to do with her. "Why? I'm not into guys." Fishlegs sighed.
"I think she was implying that me being friends with you was me trying to get a free…" And then Fishlegs blushed a brilliant tomato red, right to the tips of his ears. Hiccup face-palmed.
"You would almost imagine that she has some serious hang-ups about her own marriage with the way she just won't let it drop!" he muttered. "I mean, all I did was try not to freeze to death and I was treated horribly. Really, really horribly. And no one in this damned village will ever let it drop."
"I know, right?" Fishlegs agreed with a sigh. "Why were you running anyway?" Hiccup sighed.
"The twins ambushed me as I came over the hill from Bucket and Mulch's farm," Hiccup explained in an embarrassed voice. "They were grabbing at me…" He sighed.
"I think Snotlout was furious when he heard that the wedding to Astrid was off-and that she was staying in Dragon Training," Fishlegs revealed. "And he blames you for it."
"Why does this not surprise me?" Hiccup commented in a defeated voice. "I mean, I have done nothing except help my friend and do what I was asked to. I am no threat to him."
"He's a threat to him," Fishlegs added reasonably. "His own stupidity, his laziness and arrogance and cruelty are all a threat to people accepting him. I mean, anyone in their right mind wouldn't want to marry him!" He fiddled with his fingers. "By the way…how did you learn how to defeat that Gronckle? I-I don't think I've seen anyone do that before…" Looking up from under his hair, Hiccup shrugged aimlessly.
"I just know some animals are very relaxed when you scratch under their chins so it seemed the only thing to try-that or let myself get blasted," Hiccup offered. But Fishlegs's blue-green eyes were lit with enthusiasm.
"I knew it!" he enthused. "I knew Gronckles had a gentler side! And this proves it. If they can be calmed down…I wonder if you can befriend them?"
Yes, Hiccup thought. I think you can befriend most dragons if they are able to trust you. And they are intelligent and kind and I can never tell you this either…
"Better not let Mildew hear you say that," he advised the larger boy. "He'd want you to be executed or exiled for treason for even thinking such a thing…" Fishlegs slumped down and sighed.
"I know," he murmured. "But at least Mildew is off the island on the Search…"
And they're coming home as well, Hiccup added silently. I just hope they arrive in time or the Raid is going to be ugly. Then Fishlegs rose to his feet and offered Hiccup his hand.
"I'll walk you down to the forge," he offered. "Just to make sure there are no stupid pranks or any other accidents…" Hiccup allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and smiled thinly.
"Thanks," he sighed. "Really. Thanks."
oOo
The horn for the raid jerked Hiccup from sleep and he realised with dismay that the Chief wasn't back. Horrible images whirled around his brain even as he was grabbing his fur vest and dragging his boots on: images, of the fire taking the single remaining overladen ship, of the struggling vessel taking on water or meeting rough seas and sinking, attacks by dragons or pirates, mutiny or a storm… Then he shook his head and forced the image from his mind before haring down the stairs by the lights of the embers of the fire and out of the door. He ducked back as a Nadder launched a spread of spines at the door with a furious screech and he slammed the door just in time. Hiccup's breath hitched as he heard the thunk of the impacts into the heavy wood and he waited another few seconds to allow the dragon to fly on before he ducked out once more and began racing down the village.
The difference was immediately obvious, with far fewer people fighting off the rampaging dragons and fewer houses burnt or on fire. There were only two men lighting the fire baskets on the poles and the village centre was largely illuminated by the light of the burning houses. He dashed down the slope, remembering to glance this time and holding himself back as a Monstrous Nightmare flamed along the ground and then dashing into the forge.
Gobber was already there, his prosthesis switched out for an axe and impatient to get into the fray. Hiccup nodded and pulled his leather apron on, seeing his mentor prepare himself for the battle.
"Take care!" he called to the two limbed blacksmith and the man paused, a surprised and grateful look in his blue eyes as he looked at the skinny, auburn-haired boy.
"And you, laddie," he said gently. "I mean, I know you're just a mouthful to a dragon, but try to keep out of trouble…" And then he gave a war yodel and limped out into the Plaza and into the fray as Hiccup turned back to the forge. He pushed the hatch open and began to dole out weapons to anyone asking, uncaring of who they were or if they owed money: Gobber knew all his weapons by name and would track down any Hooligan who kept a weapon he wasn't entitled to. But even Hiccup, with his limited experience of precisely two previous raids could see this looked far worse…or maybe it wasn't. He frowned. The dragons were rampaging but without defenders attacking them, they were seriously just searching for food and once they found it, they left. Without any wanton destruction, without revenge, without seeking out defenders to slay…they just took what they needed to survive.
His mind treacherously swung back to that horrific place, the oppressive heat and stench so that you could barely breathe and your eyes watered, the huge, terrifying head rising from the noxious fog to devour the little dragon that hadn't brought back enough food to feed it. It was survival for them as well and watching them now, he could see they only grew aggressive when they were attacked, only destroyed houses when they were trying to defend themselves and distract the defenders. Had the Hooligans never noticed that? And then he realised: they were too busy with what everyone knew, locked in a battle because they knew it had to be a battle. And why shouldn't it be? Life on Berk was hard and cold and difficult and the Vikings couldn't afford to give up their hard-won stores without a fight. It just wasn't in their nature. And Hiccup felt a curl of shame. He had given up before, when there was no hope, when he was a slave.
And then he heard roars, saw bodies yelling as they ran up from the docks-and at the front was the Chief. Stoick's eyes was scarlet with bloodlust, his mind entirely locked into the battle to protect his village. The warriors-some battered or burnt or exhausted from rowing-all steamed into the battle, weapons raised and minds all focussed on defending their homes. The effect on the dragons was instant: they turned and suddenly they were more aggressive. In no time, half the village was on fire and the fire crew-which had the situation under control up to this point-were fighting a losing battle. Hiccup saw Fishlegs and the twins struggling to save the Larsons' house while Astrid was tackling a blaze at the bakery on her own. Snotlout was nowhere to be seen-and then he heard a yell.
"SNOTLOUT! SNOTLOUT! OY! OY! OY!"
A stone from one of the raised catapults arched down and slammed into the Thorstons' home, missing the cluster of Nadders who were raiding the sheep pen. Hiccup's eyes widened in shock at the reckless stupidity, especially as he saw the stocky shape of the Heir cocking and loading the catapult once more then training it on the village again.
"What the Thor is he doing?" Hiccup murmured in puzzlement as he saw the catapult swing round-and then his eyes widened in complete shock.
"SNOTLOUT! SNOTLOUT! OY! OY! OY!"
Hiccup dived through the hatch as the stone slammed directly into the Forge with an absolutely sickening crunch. Half the roof collapsed and Gobber's living quarters must have been absolutely smashed to matchwood. But worse, the fire in the forge hadn't been banked or extinguished so as the roof collapsed, the entire building burst into flames. Glancing over his shoulder and feeling the heat from the sudden curtain of flames, Hiccup scrambled to his feet and backed away, absolutely shocked.
"FIRE!" he shouted and glanced around, seeing a bucket stacked ready. Despite the fact that he could see the fire crew approaching, he dipped the bucket into a trough and threw it onto the flames, then scrambled through the remains of the hatch and dived into the burning space.
"HICCUP!" Astrid's voice echoed above the crackle of the flames but Hiccup ducked down, grabbing the precious fur vest that Stoick had bought him and tucking Gobber's hook into his belt-and then he grabbed a handful of weapons and tossed them through the hatch. Frantically, despite the flames, he grabbed Gobber's favourite tools and tossed them out as well-and finally he threw a few sets of bolas and grabbed two swords because the heat was becoming overwhelming. Face feeling as if it was burning, he scrambled out of the burning forge and got a faceful of water as the twins tossed their buckets into the blaze. Collapsing to his knees, he felt a strong hand grab him and he stared up into the hateful face of Mildew.
"What yer done now, boy?" the old man sneered. "Oh, ye'll pay for this! I knew we shouldn't trust some lazy little slave with the security of our forge. You set it on fire and I'll make sure you were exiled for it…"
"Shut yer yap, Mildew!" Gobber snarled, elbowing the old man aside. "Laddie, are ye okay?"
"Is that all ye can ask him?" Mildew sneered. "This boy set fire to the forge and…"
"And how do you explain the catapult stone on the roof, hmm?" Gobber sneered at him, gesturing with his axe prosthesis. "That muttonhead we're lumbered with for an Heir was messing around with a weapon he has no training or clearance to use and has demolished a house and the forge! It's not Hiccup's fault. In fact, I think he went in there to grab as many weapons as he could before the blaze took hold!" He gestured to the weapons scattered on the ground around them. "And ye grabbed Sadie, Flora and Bertha-me best tools." Coughing from the smoke as the fire crew desperately tried to control the blaze, Hiccup pulled the hook from his belt.
"Grabbed this as well, Gobber," he said hoarsely as the entire trough of water was thrown onto the fire by Stock, who ran up. There was a hiss and the flames died right down.
"Odin bless ye, laddie," the blacksmith said in relief.
"Hiccup-are you safe?" the Chief asked, ignoring Mildew completely and the boy slowly got to his feet. He nodded.
"Yes, sir," he said hoarsely. "Sorry, I didn't have time to put out the fires when I saw the catapult stone coming. I just had time to get out of the hatch…"
"And who fired the catapult?" Stoick demanded, his eyes glittering dangerously.
"I'll give yeh two guesses but I think ye'll only need one," Gobber said and gestured at the stocky shape of Snotlout, who was being led down to the village by Spitelout, who was yelling at him. The Chief bunched his fists and snorted in anger, then turned to the Jorgensens.
"Do you think you can possibly explain how come you were aiming the catapults at the village, Snotlout?" Stoick said in a dangerously low voice, his brows knitted with rage. "If we needed someone to attack the village, we could call the Outcasts. This village suffers enough with dragon raids without irresponsible children playing with weapons they have neither the wit not the skill to use!" Eyes widening briefly at the accusation, Snotlout folded his arms.
"You weren't here, Chief-so someone had to try to protect the village from the dragons!" he protested.
"Who's gonna protect it from you?" Gobber muttered as the rest of the fire crew finished dousing the flames. The others moved on but Astrid lingered for a second, briefly touching Hiccup's arm.
"Are you okay?" she asked in a low voice. "When I saw you jump back into the burning Forge…" He shrugged.
"I'm fine," he assured her. "I mean, all I could think of was rescuing the fur vest the Chief gave me and rescuing Gobber's tools and what I could for the village." And then he yelped as a fist met his shoulder.
"That's for being complete muttonhead and almost getting yourself toasted to death!" she scolded him and then swiped the bangs off her face. And then she pecked a quick kiss on his cheek. "And that's for everything else." Before he could manage to jam his mind into gear, she had grabbed her bucket and run after the rest of the fire crew. Gobber clapped him on the shoulder.
"I'm not kissin' ye, lad, but I'm glad you're safe as well," he teased Hiccup.
"Thanks-I think," Hiccup sassed back as the blacksmith changed his prosthetic hand back to a hook.
"Now, shall we collect up these weapons and then have a look and see what we can salvage from the back while everything cools down?" he said. But Hiccup turned back to look across the village, briefly noting that the dragons had made their escapes with their tributes…and that Snotlout, despite being thoroughly castigated for his reckless stupidity, was looking directly at Hiccup. And there was murder in his eye.