Thirty Six: A secret son
"Please…don't disown me again," Hiccup whispered, his hand resting on Toothless's flattened head, the wounds on his body and the blood loss making his head spin. Facing him, Stoick stood tall, his powerful body-all six foot ten and four hundred pounds of it-poised for battle with his knife clamped in his meaty fist. To one side, the slender, lithe, beautiful shape of Astrid was watchful, her azure eyes flicking from father to son while Fishlegs cowered behind the Chief, varying between absolute terror and utter fascination with the dragon curled protectively behind and around the skinny shape of Hiccup.
A dragon that should have viciously attacked and killed them on sight, for it was the most feared of all-the unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself. So why was it gently nuzzling Hiccup's broken shape, purring softly?
Stoick stared at the boy, his ingrained instincts as a warrior and as a Berkian to leap forward and attack the monster and the young man who had committed treason…but the cooler, saner part of his mind reminded him that the boy was his just-recognised son, a boy who had been wronged from the day he was born, being denied his birthright and taken away under a lie, leading to his slavery. And fate, the Norns, the will of Odin-someone-had miraculously brought Stoick and his son back together. And at every step, the Chief had failed the boy, placing him with his abusive relatives, the Jorgensens instead of taking him in, not arranging for proper weapons lessons, not adopting him formally and waiting until it was almost too late to acknowledge his son. Hiccup had been all but broken and it was up to Stoick to make the right move now, at this most critical time.
But befriending a dragon! It went against everything that the Hooligans of Berk believed, against every custom and probably the law…it was the gravest treason…
A treason that his wife, Valka, had flirted with, arguing that fighting with the dragons seemed to inflame the situation and make them more aggressive, rather than simply protecting life and property. It had been an unpopular view but only the most contrary of the Tribe-such as Mildew-openly criticised the Chieftess. Yet Hiccup had not been raised on Berk and he had not been welcomed either. Without guidance, without friends and chased into the forest, he had befriended the only creature that had accepted him unreservedly.
And they were still alive. The dragon had not attacked. In fact, it appeared more protective than aggressive. What Stoick had expected was wrong. What he knew was certainly suspect and incomplete. And what he did now would affect the rest of his life.
He looked at his son once more, seeing the boy expecting rejection, expecting death. The son he had thought dead. The son he had always dreamed of. The son who had been so terribly wronged by almost everyone and let down most grievously by Stoick himself.
The son he loved.
His hand flexed and the knife clattered to the floor.
"Hiccup…I can't hurt you…not again…" he said in a sad, gruff voice. "I have wronged you…and yes, I recall the attack on the ships in the search. That Night Fury saved us."
"There is only one Night Fury," the boy said wearily. "His name is Toothless." Stock frowned.
"Toothless?" he echoed in a slightly startled voice.
"He has retractable teeth," Hiccup explained automatically. "Um…really…" The Chief looked over at the dragon who gave a small croon and then he looked at the boy.
"You saved me," he said. Hiccup gulped.
"Technically Toothless saved you and I was just a passenger," he admitted as Stoick gave a small smile.
"And I doubt he would have been there if you had not led him after us," he said. "You saved me Hiccup." He reached out his arms. "It's okay, son. We can sort something out…" Hiccup took a choking breath and then stumbled forward and threw himself against the Chief and this time, Stoick knew what to do, gently closing his arms around the injured shape and feeling Hiccup's skinny arms squeeze him as hard as he could. Sighing, he gently tousled the auburn hair and felt the boy breathe raggedly.
"Sorry," Hiccup mumbled. "But he is my friend and I can't let him be hurt for coming to check I'm okay…" Looking at the Night Fury, the Chief took a deep breath.
"Thank you, dragon," he murmured. "Thank you for looking after my son." The dragon gave a small warble and Hiccup looked up, his eyes red-rimmed. Quietly, he grasped the Chief's hand and took a shaky breath.
"Hold your hand out, palm first," he suggested. "And don't make a move."
"What…?" Stoick murmured and then froze as the dragon, quietly closed his eyes and pressed his nose into the large hand. The Chief stiffened: it was the first time he had actually touched a dragon and it took all his strength of will not to recoil in horror…but he could feel Hiccup's gentle but steady grip on his wrist. There was gentle huff of breath on his skin and he looked directly into the large green eyes of the dragon.
"There," Hiccup murmured. "What do you think?"
"Dry and scaly," Stoick replied automatically and then he sighed. "I think you've made your point, son." And then he looked up and the smiling Astrid and the open-mouthed Fishlegs. "I guess you've had the same experience, lass-but not you, Fishlegs?"
"I've seen him a couple of times and Hiccup took me on a flight with him, over the island," she revealed. Fishlegs just gaped, staring at the auburn-haired boy.
"I cannot believe that you knew about him and you didn't tell me!" he protested. "I thought we were friends…" Hiccup sighed, his shoulders slumped.
"I couldn't tell you," he said wearily. "I mean, though I knew you were fascinated with dragons, what would you have said if you knew that I was friends with a dragon?"
"You told Astrid!" the husky boy protested in a hurt voice. Hiccup sighed.
"She was there when he came back as I was having a sword session," he admitted. "And then when a Monstrous Nightmare attacked, he protected us." He shrugged. "I mean, after the way Mildew behaved, I didn't want to risk getting you into any trouble."
"So that's how you learned all those…techniques…for training dragons," Fishlegs breathed. Self-consciously, Hiccup nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet Stoick's.
"I guess it counts as cheating," he admitted. "I mean, I haven't really learned to kill dragons." The Chief looked at the battered boy, still leaning against him and then at the unique black dragon and he snorted.
"It is called Dragon Training, not Dragon Killing," he admitted. "And you have been training them. Though I doubt anyone would imagine you could train one to fight the others on our behalf! And while the attack on the ships showed that they're aggressive not just when we fight them and that not all dragons, I believe, can be easily trained by just touching their noses-as Sven said-it has worked with this dragon. And that Nadder." Fishlegs frowned and then a thoughtful looked crossed his face.
"I may want to try for myself," he murmured and Hiccup gave a small smile. He knew exactly which dragon his friend would attempt with. And then he swayed, Stoick's strong hand steadying him.
"Easy, son," he murmured. "You need rest." The boy nodded and allowed himself to be helped to bed, a flutter of relief flickering in his chest as he was tucked in. Toothless settled down at the far side of the bed and curled up, his eyes fixed on the boy.
"Does he need food?" Astrid asked and Hiccup sleepily looked over at the dragon.
"What ya think, bud? Do you need something to eat?" he asked in a muzzy voice and the dragon pricked his ears and crooned what definitely sounded like an affirmative.
"Sounds like a yes," Stoick commented. "What does he eat?"
"Fish," Hiccup revealed. "But no eels. He seems scared of them."
"Fascinating," Fishlegs muttered, scribbling hard on a scrap of paper but the smaller boy gave a frown.
"Hey-I am still going to write the Night Fury chapter in the Book of Dragons!" he said with some spirit as Stoick backed up a pace.
"I think…there will be plenty for Fishlegs to write about," he said wisely. "I'll fetch a basket of fish for your friend. And some more stew for your human friends?" Astrid grabbed Fishlegs's arm.
"Thank you, sir-but I think we should let Hiccup get some rest," she said pointedly, hauling the bigger lad back. But Hiccup waved for them to pause.
"I have something more to tell you…in the morning," he said muzzily. Stoick blinked. "I think I may have found the Nest…and the dragon that controls the raids…I can tell you all about it…" But Stoick, despite his sudden eagerness to hear the news and begin to plan his assault, could see the boy was exhausted and he knew that Hiccup would tell him when he was rested. The boy and the dragon would wait for morning. He tenderly rested his hand gently on his head, checking he was cool, not hot with fever. He smiled.
This certainly wasn't the son he had imagined and this was definitely not how he imagined accepting the boy-who was still an outcast and despised by many of the Tribe-but there was a warmth in his heart that told the Chief he had made the right decision. He ruffled the boy's hair once more.
"There's plenty of time," he said with a sigh. "Take your rest, Hiccup. You too, dragon. You are both safe. I'll get the fish now and the Council will assemble in the morning to hear your tale." Hiccup's heavy eyelids fluttered.
"Not Spitelout…" he murmured and Stoick sighed.
"We'll see," he said.
oOo
Astrid was back the next morning after waking, training and snatching a light snack. to find the Chief sitting downstairs by the open firepit, whittling. She blinked and hovered at the doorway, unsure whether she should come in but he looked up, a small smile on his lips as his knife moved effortlessly over the chunk of pine.
"Morning, Astrid," he said cheerily, a small curl of wood flicking onto his lap. "You just caught me at my morning whittling…" She blinked. "Come in, lass! He's still asleep." She slowly advanced. "And his friend…"
"He stayed here all night?" she asked quickly, closing the door behind her. He nodded.
"When I got up earlier, I collected another basket of fish," he admitted and she frowned. "I suspect I am owed it and more for the family I have never claimed for…" She sat abruptly at the table, inspecting his face carefully.
"If you don't mind me asking, sir-are you alright with this? I mean-how are you alright with this?" she asked him, her eyes puzzled. He sighed and took a sip of watered down ale, his throat working as he swallowed.
"He is my son," he said at length. "And yes, I thought about it so many times. I mean, when I first found out, I stared up the stairs for hours-almost until the Outcast attack, in fact-and tried to get my head around the idea. That this boy, who had suffered so much, who had stubbornly fought back against all those challenges, was my son. And I knew he looked like Val…there were moments when he was just so much like her…but to find out he had been stolen from me, no matter how well-meaning the perpetrator…it just seemed unreal." He sighed. "And he's not the son I imagined." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "I mean he looks nothing like me…"
"He has your nose, sir," Astrid murmured.
"He also has a dragon," Stoick sighed. "I mean, he is the complete opposite of me. He isn't a Hooligan at all…and because of that, he has done what none of us would. And he saved the warriors, he found the Nest, he saved me…" He looked up. "I have dedicated my life to the village and I nearly lost him. I owe myself the chance to know my son…and if that means overturning everything I know, I will try it."
"I never thought I'd hear ye say that," Gobber commented, ambling in amiably. "Say…what?" There was a creak as the Chief half-turned to look at his old friend.
"He has a dragon." Gobber stared and then started laughing.
"Aye, I never took yer for a joker, Stoick, but…"
"It's upstairs right now…" the Chief commented and the blacksmith stared and sat heavily on the bench.
"Oh boy…the laddie never does things by halves, does he?" he muttered as Stoick poured him a mead.
"He's found the Nest as well," the Chief added as Fishlegs scuttled in. There was a creak from upstairs. "I have asked the members of the Council I trust to come round so Hiccup can explain to us." The two limbed blacksmith scratched his face with his hook absently, risking severe maiming as he simultaneously grabbed the mug and downed it in one.
"He kept that quiet," he mumbled.
"Never really got a chance to tell anyone," Hiccup said from the stairs. He looked pale and bruised but there was a little more life in his emerald eyes-and behind him was the sleek black shape of…
"Night Fury…" Gobber breathed. He scrambled back-but Toothless's ears pricked and he jumped from the stairs and bounded up to the blacksmith. Unnerved, Gobber looked up at the boy.
"He won't hurt you," Hiccup reassured him as he gingerly made his way down the stairs. "I think he's looking for some food." Instantly, Astrid was on her feet, walking up to catch his hands.
"How are you?" she asked and he managed a small smile.
"Better," he murmured. "I mean, still Outcast and almost no one will acknowledge I exist and I thought I had lost everyone and now…I mean now I'm still Outcast and almost no one will acknowledge I exist but I am alive and I have you and Fish and Toothless is alive and the Chief…I mean Dad…" And then he smiled. "I don't have the words to be honest. It's amazing." Stoick smiled as he welcomed him down and served the lad a mug of milk and meaty broth as Hiccup warily slid on the bench between Gobber and Astrid.
"Ah, I see Stoick is trying to fatten yer up," Gobber commented brashly. "Hmm…he's got a long way to go…"
"Gobber!" Stoick warned as he opened a large basket of fish. "And this is for you, dragon!" Taking a wary sniff, Toothless licked his lips and stuffed his head in the basket, eating at top speed. As he glanced over at his friend, Hiccup frowned and paused. It was like looking at a picture which someone had subtly altered and he knew in his heart and in his gut that something was wrong. Why was Toothless here instead of in the safety of the forest? How did he manage to get back to Berk? And why was he staying with Hiccup? The dragon's tail flicked and the boy's eyes widened: the left tail fin wasn't there, the asymmetry what had subconsciously alerted him. Quietly, he got up and walked to the dragon, crouching stiffly by the tail and grasping it. Where the tail fin had been, there was a scabbed wound, some of the black scales sliced clean through by whatever vicious Outcast weapon had hit him. Fractured memories of the black shape dodging catapult missiles and screeching, then arching in an inexorably decaying flight over the ships and out to sea rushed back…
"What happened, bud?" he murmured as Toothless looked up and crooned. "I know you tried to save me. And you almost made it. You were hurt, won't you?" The dragon gave a small warble, then turned round and licked Hiccup. The boy sighed and rested his hand on the scaly face. "I'm sorry, bud. I did this. If you hadn't come for me, you would be fine…"
"Tails and wings," Gobber announced. "Best places to harm a dragon and bring it down."
"A downed dragon is a dead dragon," Fishlegs quoted. Astrid nodded.
"He must be feeling scared as well," Astrid realised as Hiccup sighed and stared into the big green eyes.
"Is that why you're here?" he asked as Toothless filched another cod. "You're vulnerable?" The dragon swallowed his fish and nodded. "I know how you feel, bud. And I'm here for you too," he murmured and hugged the dragon. Quietly, the long but maimed tail curled all the way round the boy protectively as the door opened.
"Thor above-is that a Night Fury?" Phlegma asked as she walked in, accompanied by Mulch and Sven. "And why is no one killing it?"
"Easy, Phlegma-it isn't a threat," Stoick commanded and gestured the newcomers to take a seat. "We're just waiting for Gothi and then we will start." Mulch winked at the boy as he sat close to the dragon.
"I see your expertise at livestock doesn't stop at chickens and sheep," he teased him. "Bucket asked me four times to say hello and wants you to come up and help him with the chickens when you're feeling better. I think you're the best at prising that ewe out of the nesting box as well…" Hiccup looked up.
"She's back in there again?" he asked in shock. Mulch sighed.
"I think Bucket has put her in there so many times that she climbs in there on her own now," he revealed with a twinkle in his eye.
"You're all talking to me now?" he asked suspiciously and all the adults looked self-conscious.
"Aye, lad," Sven said after an awkward moment in his high-pitched voice. "We were all abiding by the laws about an Outcast member of the Tribe and ignoring you…but here, where it is just us, where we can trust the others, we can treat you like anyone else."
"I'm not sure if that's any better or worse," Hiccup murmured. "I didn't do anything wrong and I'm being treated like a criminal, a murderer or traitor…"
"Though the fact you seem to have a pet dragon certainly would make some people certain you were one of those," Phlegma commented dryly, resting her axe by the door.
"Aye-but Mildew is now dead," Gobber reminded her.
"I meant Spitelout," the female warrior retorted. "That one has his head right up his ass. He's blind to the faults of his son and very quick to pick on the faults of others-especially the boy."
"Well, he hits himself on the head with a bludgeon for recreation," Sven added. "Along with Dogface, Boarbum and Yaklips."
"Aye-they're not a selection of the greatest thinkers in the Tribe," Gobber acknowledged.
"Hiccup-will you share how you came to befriend…Toothless…and what else you found with us?" Stoick asked the boy and slowly, he came to perch on a seat, then faced the Council and his friends.
"Wow-a group of scary-looking Vikings," he commented. The Chief pulled his seat up alongside his son and rested a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Take your time, son-nothing to be worried about," he reassured him as the others sat expectantly. Hiccup rubbed his bandaged wrist self-consciously.
"In my defence-I wasn't raised here and I kind of judge everything on how it treats me so…yeah…" he said quickly and quietly began to tell his story. The Council and Fishlegs listened and he felt himself blushing at the part of the story telling how he was pursued by Snotlout and his father, how pathetic he sounded and how he was literally saved by the most fearsome dragon known to Berk. Stoick's brows dipped and he heard his fists creak at this new tale of his kinsmen's actions…and then he leaned towards his son.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked and Hiccup shrugged, seeming to shrink.
"How could I?" he asked softly. "I mean, I sound so utterly pathetic!"
"Nope-Snotlout has managed that instead," Astrid huffed, her arms folded angrily. "That utter hypocrite! All those names he called you-and all the time he was trying to…" Hiccup's head dropped and he curled away, Stoick's arm wrapping around him. The girl's face fell. "He didn't…" she breathed. Stoick nodded.
"I need to think how to proceed," he murmured. Then the door slammed open and Gothi hobbled in, scowling. She whacked the Chief on the head and scratched angrily on the floor. He winced. "Ow! Sorry, Gothi!" he apologised, realising they had started without her. She hobbled to one of the seats and Mulch moved obligingly.
"I see your arm is as strong as ever, Elder," he commented cheerfully as she scowled at him.
"You need to prove the lad was innocent of the crimes he is accused of-and as he has been tried for treason and cleared, that is no problem," Sven added, thankfully out of range of her staff.
"And when he was taken, no one accused him of any crime except being a slave," Mulch added.
"The problem is that he is now marked as an Outcast," Phlegma reminded him.
"And we canna get around that?" Gobber asked brashly, seeing his apprentice sigh. Gothi slammed her staff on the ground and scratched on the floor. The blacksmith squinted at the symbols.
"If you perform a service to the Tribe, with the blessing of the Council, you can be welcomed in," he read. "Well, that's obvious ye old bag…" Gothi whacked him on the head with her staff and he yelped. "And yer as ornery as a hundred year old goat as well!" he added, skipping out of range. Gothi folded her arms and scowled at him. Hiccup sighed.
"I saved the warriors, attacking the dragons on Toothless who ambushed them in Helheim's gate," he offered as the others stared at him.
"So there was someone riding the Night Fury!" Sven realised. "Mildew was right!"
"Thank Thor the old goat never found out he was right," Gobber murmured.
"He was a traitor," Hiccup added quietly. "He was plotting with Alvin. He planned it with them so the Outcast attack was supposed to happen before the warriors returned so they could plunder the village with little resistance. When the Chief was on Outcast Island, he was going to kill him with Alvin's help…" All eyes looked to the Chief and Stoick nodded.
"Until he was slain by the lass," he added and every eye turned to Astrid. She lifted her chin, tilting her head proudly.
"He was trying to murder my Chief," she said simply. "I stopped him."
"Killing a grown man, a traitor, to save your Chief should restore your family honour, lass," Mulch pointed out and she smiled.
"Hiccup gave me the warning and I arrived just in time," she told them proudly. "He made sure help would arrive for his Chief as well."
"And his father," Stoick reminded him with a small smile. Quietly he sighed and rested his hand on Toothless's head.
"I also found the Nest," he said and every eye fell on him. Stoick grinned.
"That's my boy!" he said proudly. "Now you've found it, we can attack and finally end the scourge of the raids…"
"No," Hiccup said. "If you attack the Nest, you will all be destroyed. There is a monster in there, a huge dragon that controls the others. It eats them if they don't provide enough food by raiding. All the dragons are terrified of it-even Toothless…"
The Night Fury gave a defensive warble and Hiccup gave a small grin.
"You were pretty miserable, bud," he reminded the dragon.
"That's insane!" Phlegma protested.
"I saw it," Hiccup argued. "The head at least. It lives within the mountain itself…and based on the head I saw…it must be over a hundred feet high." Sven shook his head.
"That's not possible…"
"There are lots of dragons, especially the larger Tidal Class, that are that sort of size…" Fishlegs reminded him, his eyes shining. But Hiccup turned to look into his father's eyes, the urgency and concern there was plain to see.
"That thing swallowed a Gronkle whole and bit one of those two headed dragons…a Zippleback?…in half," he warned his father. "It lives in a volcano and has been controlling raids for centuries. You don't have any weapons that could penetrate its hide! I know-I've seen every one in the village. Please believe me-it will be a massacre…" But the Chief scowled.
"I have to do this," he said. "When my father told me about being a Viking, he said 'A Viking can move mountains, cross seas, defeat any enemy.' And he was right. When I was a small boy, he asked me to hit a rock with my head. And do you know what happened?"
"You got a headache?" Gobber suggested.
"You knocked yourself out?" Hiccup offered.
"I hit my head with the rock-and it broke. And I knew then that I could achieve anything if I put my mind to it," Stoick said.
"You may end up achieving the destruction of the Tribe," Hiccup murmured. "Please…using just Viking weapons, there is no chance…" And then he looked at the black shape at his back. "But maybe he can help?"
"It's got to be worth a try," Astrid added. Stoick bunched his fists.
"I have to end the threat," he said stubbornly.
"Aye-that's our Chief-stubborn as a rock," Gobber commented. "Determined to do what he has promised, no matter the cost…"
Then a staccato sound interrupted them and they looked up to see Gothi scratching away on the floor, having slammed her staff down to gain their attention.
"What does she say?" Astrid asked as Hiccup felt Toothless nudge him. He grimaced.
"She says that the Chief can still complete his vow to end the war and protect the village…but not alone," Gobber read. "You will need every resource available to end it. And that includes dragons…"