Thirty Eight: Unreasoning Hatred

There was a long silence before the dragon gave a grumbling growl and lifted his head reluctantly. He gave it a shake and slowly lumbered to his feet-only to realise there was a weight on his tail. His head snapped round and his big green eyes widened in shock as he saw the small slumped shape of Hiccup, curled around his tail, his hand still clamped around the prosthetic. Shaking his head again, the dragon gave a worried croon and urgently nudged and licked the small shape until Hiccup finally groaned.

"Ow…" he murmured. "Not the best landing…bud…" Blearily he opened his eyes as Toothless gave him an offended look. "Not our best landing…" he amended. "Some of it was my fault as well…"

Toothless licked his face, checking he was okay and Hiccup blinked again.

"You know that's really hard to wash out, don't you?" he asked the dragon as it gave a loving warble. Then he glanced up at the sound of steps approaching. Immediately, Toothless grabbed the back of his tunic in his teeth and lifted the dazed boy off the mossy ground, lumbering rapidly towards the rocky wall of the Cove and deep shadows, then shrinking back, his wings curled over himself and the boy. Hiccup would have protested but he could hear the sound of Snotlout's voice and he froze, memories of that night flashing through his memory. Unbidden, he curled in on himself and Toothless curled his strong front legs protectively around the boy.

"I thought it came down here," Snotlout announced from almost directly above them. Toothless vibrated with a soundless growl, hearing and feeling the galloping of the boy's heart.

"No sign of it!" An unfamiliar voice-probably belonging to a scion of one of the families that were allied to the Jorgensens-added. Hiccup vaguely recalled a buff boy called Codface who seemed to possess slightly fewer brains than Snotlout and equally as much sympathy to the outsider. "It must have flown on…"

"Of course it has, muttonhead!" Snotlout snapped. "It's a dragon. They fly! That's why they have wings!" There was the sound of a slap as he cuffed the back of the other young man's head. "Lets head over towards Thor's Beach. It was heading that way." There was a pause. "If I kill that Night Fury, they'll probably make me Chief straight away, rather than threatening to stop me being Heir…"

In your dreams, Hiccup thought silently. And you're not getting your hands on Toothless either. But they waited for a few long minutes until the sounds of the footsteps had receded and the chirrup of birds and the hoots of Terrible Terrors had resumed. Finally, the Night Fury unfolded his wings and Hiccup shakily got to his feet.

"Thanks, bud," he murmured, looking up the steep walls of the cove. It was somewhere he had never been before, a depression some thirty feet deep with almost vertical rocky walls, a mere in the centre and a few vertical roots, a couple of stunted trees and a mossy floor. Above them was a crack and some rocks that looked like the only way out. Then he looked over at the dragon. "I don't suppose you could fly us out of here?" he asked as the dragon pointedly raised his tail and demonstrated the prosthetic tail. The leather 'membrane' was ripped and two of the struts had been bent. The boy folded his arms and frowned.

"Okay-so we need to strengthen the struts and maybe find some way to fireproof the leather," the boy murmured, thinking aloud. "Since I am sure with you, flames will be involved…" Toothless gave an impatient croon. "Yeah-I know. Nothing's going to get done while we sit around here…" And he turned and tried to scramble up the nearest rock. Toothless ducked his neck and gently lifted the boy up to the top of the nearest rock, allowing him to scramble up towards the ledge and the crack. Agilely, the dragon bounded up to sit on the level below his friend. Then Hiccup looked up with a sigh at the crack. "And you're never going to fit through there," he commented. Toothless crooned. "Maybe I could get through first and then I could maybe help you up…" The dragon gave him a surprised look and Hiccup pulled a face. "Nah-okay, you're right…not gonna happen…" he admitted. "I'll get help," he promised and turned back to the dragon, gently pressing his hand on the Night Fury's nose. Toothless closed his eyes and huffed gently as Hiccup scrambled down and unfastened the tail before he turned away and painfully scrambled up the rocks.

The crack was too narrow for the dragon and it would probably not even fit Fishlegs-but Hiccup easily made his way through and scrambled up to the forest floor, listening out for Snotlout before memorising his location and striking out for the village. Every noise had him on edge, carrying an incriminating Dragon tail and probably still an Outcast-but despite hiding behind bushes when he heard footsteps close on his position, he made his way back to the village safely. Gobber was still in the forge, singing horribly off key and hammering away at Mingechin's hammer which had inexplicably gotten bent at a ninety degree angle during the battle with the Outcasts, and he looked up with a grin.

"How did it go, laddie?" he asked as the boy slid in the back and rested the battered prosthetic tail on the bench.

"Um…scary…amazing…and we crashed. Hard," Hiccup reported with a frown. "It collapsed shut when we needed it open. It needs a catch or gear to ensure it opens and stays open when needed and collapses down when it should." He opened the drawer and peered in. "I need to make a gear."

"A what?" Gobber asked as Hiccup pulled his journal out of the inside of his fur vest from the leather pocket he had sewn in there. He swiftly sketched a simple gear and explained what it did.

"I heard a passing merchant explain about one he had so I sneaked onto his ship and examined it before he left," he admitted. "He wasn't too pleased-but the principle was just so amazing…" And he smiled. Gobber peered and nodded.

"I've seen something similar but not in this detail," he admitted. "I'll be interested to see what you build. lad. And whatever you need is yours…"

"What is that Outcast doing?" Spitelout sneered as Gobber spun on his peg leg to glare at him. "He shouldn't even be here!"

"Well he is and he's my assistant so ye can clear off and go hit yourself over the head with a rock, yeh bonehead!" he retorted rudely.

"There are more people than not who think that boy should be driven out of the village," he threatened. Giving a nasty sneer, Gobber lumbered forward.

"Maybe yer should check with yer son," he challenged. "Yer precious boy seems to like the boy…" And the insult was implicit as Hiccup stiffened in fear. Gobber chuckled in satisfaction as Spitelout went puce and marched away.

"Thanks, Gobber," Hiccup managed sarcastically but the blacksmith gave a small smile.

"Those Jorgensens are going to be trouble before we're done-mark my words," he said sagely and fished a flask from under the bench, taking a generous slug of mead. "Thor, that man makes me want to drink every time I have to talk with him!" he grumbled and looked at the boy. "You work on yer project, Hiccup. I'll manage these bent swords and hammers. I know ye can do it. And never forget-Stoick believes in you."

oOo

Next time, Hiccup had made a saddle and a simple gear attached to a foot pedal, opening and closing the tail at will. Under the cover of dusk, he made his way into the forest with the rig and a large basket of fish and then scrambled down into the cove, to find a very grumpy Toothless hanging upside down from a tree root by his tail like a giant black leather cigar. The boy struggled to get down to the bottom of the cove with his wounds and burdens but Toothless loosened up once he smelled the fish and jumped agilely down. Apologising profusely, the boy was rewarded by an affectionate nuzzle before the dragon got stuck into the fish. In the meantime, Hiccup was able to fit the tail version 2.0 as well as the saddle and the wire connecting to the gears.

Toothless looked up and gave a quizzical warble.

"Yeah…well, didn't exactly feel completely safe hanging onto your tail, bud," Hiccup commented as he checked the wires were hooked up as he had planned. "And I think I need to help keep the tail open…at least until I can prove it works…" Looking up with a playful look in his big green eyes, Toothless pounced onto the boy and licked him thoroughly as Hiccup giggled.

"TOOTHLESS! That really doesn't wash out!" he protested, drenched in saliva as the dragon retreated a little and the boy slowly sat up. "Okay-so maybe I deserved that," he admitted, trying to scrape the dragon drool off his face. He flicked a little at the Night Fury and Toothless fastidiously began to wash his face with a paw. And then the young Viking scrambled onto the saddle and took a deep breath. "Come on, bud-let's get out of this cove."

The dragon bunched his muscles and hunkered down-and then flung himself into the air. This time, Hiccup was ready for the acceleration as they shot upwards, his hands clamped around the edge of the saddle. He flattened his foot on the pedal and the tail snapped open, allowing the dragon to level his flight. And Hiccup's heart soared as they shot up into the darkening sky, the cold breeze ruffling his hair as they swooped above the trees, sinking sideways as Hiccup learned how to control the tail and mesh it with the dragon's flight. For his part, the Night Fury was very sensitive to the shifts in the boy's saddle position, responding as he leaned and listening to his words. Until finally they soared round and headed down towards the darkened village and the shape of the Chief's House.

Unexpectedly, Toothless landed on the roof unbidden, folding his wings and leaning back to glance at Hiccup. Even though the boy was brave, the dragon's sensitive nose could smell the injuries on him and knew that he was still hurt. Breathing hard and very relieved that the tail seemed to work and that they hadn't crashed, Hiccup shakily slid off and carefully scrambled to the roof hatch, then lifted the hatch and listened. Angry voices were echoing within.

"You have to make a decision, Stoick-or someone will make it for you!" Spitelout's voice echoed up and there were the murmurs of male voices that Hiccup didn't recognise.

"Aye-he's an Outcast!" That was Hobnut Thorston.

"He could be up to any treachery!" The owner of that voice was gruff and angry sounding.

"Hush, Goatface!" Gobber growled and Hiccup listened closer: Goatface was supposed to be related to his Aunt's…Marte's…Aunt… "He's just a lad who stepped up and saved the Chief-far better than Spitelout's lazy arrogant excuse for a boy!"

"But the law is very clear…" The owner of that voice was a heavy sounding voice, all throat and gargle.

"Is it, Yaklips?" The Chief's voice was annoyed. "What say you, Earwig?"

The creak of a chair sounded and Hiccup found himself holding his breath. Toothless was hunched over him, his wing shielding him from the cold and preventing any cold breeze from howling in through the hatch and alerting the men to his presence. Earwig was the person Stoick had mentioned could see if he could undo Hiccup's Outcast status.

"He isn't an Outcast," the man said, his voice surprisingly light and nasal. "He has been branded by them but to be an Outcast, he must be convicted by a legal court on one of the Archipelago Tribes of a crime that warrants permanent banishment from the Tribe. There is no record of him ever being accused or convicted of such crime."

There was a pause as some of the slower members of the gathering wrestled with his words. Then someone snorted.

"But he's been branded as an Outcast!" Yak lips growled in his throaty voice. "So he must be one of them."

"Or their slave!" Spitelout argued.

"That is a possibility," Earwig admitted calmly. "But they cannot claim any freeborn member of a Tribe. No Tribe can recognise any claim they have on anyone who escapes from their clutches. Such a person would be free…though he would have to prove his birthright…"

"He's a slave!" Goatface insisted. "And all he's good for is to serve and toil. And that boy is so shamed and so ruined that no one here wants him on the island…"

"And whose fault is that?" Gobber growled, lurching forward. "Yours Spitelout-you and that lazy son of yours. Had the boy been welcomed as he should have been, had he been given the chance he deserved…he would have been one of us. And despite that, he saved the Chief's life. None of you did that! And when he was offered as a hostage, your blasted son, Spitelout, gave him as a slave, not as a person. Why do you fear the boy so much? Why do you hate him when he had never done you any harm?"

"Because he shouldn't be here!" Spitelout spat. "He's a nasty little slave from the whorehouse and he should have been left to his fate, rather than ruining the reputation of the Tribe by associating with us!"

"What reputation?" Yaklips asked. "I mean, we're Hooligans. Nuff said."

"And the Chief favours him…" There was the scrape of a chair and Hiccup knew Stoick had lurched to his feet in anger.

"I promised I would help and protect him-and Odin forgive me, your chattering prejudice almost made me forget that!" he snarled. "He saved my life-twice, really-and I owe him everything. He deserves a home and a family…"

"You have both!" Spitelout pointed out.

There was an awkward pause.

"Did you really say that?" Hobnut asked him incredulously. "You have your family and he visits as kin…but do you ever ask him round just for a mead? Or a chat?"

"Nope," Gobber said smugly. "Do any of you?"

The next pause was even more awkward.

"Not awkward at all, Gobber," Stoick commented dryly. "Spitelout, I am aware you are talking with all those allied to your family and that the talk is that Stoick has lost it. That he's obsessed with that slave boy. That I am attracted to him." There was a creak and he leaned forward. "But which of us chased the child through the forest, hmm? Which of us is obsessed with persecuting the boy who has never made a move against you? And which of us is Snotlout's father-Snotlout who attacked the boy?"

There were the creak of more bodies.

"SLANDER!" Spitelout yelled.

"Really? Is that what Alva told you? Maybe you should have talked to your son and asked him why the Helheim he attacked, he raped the boy?" Gobber's voice was ugly with anger and the accusation clearly stung.

"It's a lie by that damned slave!" Spitelout repeated.

"Why should the lie? He was clearly distraught?" Gobber retorted.

"Why do you have such unreasoning hatred for someone who has done nothing wrong except survive?" the Chief asked him pointedly.

"Because he's not one of us!" Spitelout yelled. "Life here is already too hard-and you brought some damned shamed slave here to burden us more!"

"Not like the lad is eating us out of house and home…or that he isn't working for his living, unlike some people…" Gobber muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"He's fought with my son! He's stolen his victory in dragon training! He's stolen his future wife…" Spitelout argued as there was a snigger from Hobnut.

"Thor, really?" he asked in incredulity.

"Your boy was thrown out of dragon training for incompetence and attacking Hiccup-twice, almost costing him his life," Gobber told him scornfully.

"And I have spoken with Hofferson," Stoick added. "He has told me in no uncertain terms that he will never sanction a wedding of Astrid to your son, no matter how much you offer him. And even if anything happens to me, I have granted her Shield Maiden status, meaning that she cannot ever be forced to marry-though she has the right to choose, if she wishes…" Gobber chuckled loudly.

"This isn't over!" Spitelout threatened, stamping to the door and throwing it open. "You get rid of that boy or you may find you don't have a village, Stoick!" And he left, followed by Goatface, Yaklips and the still-sniggering Hobnut. Stoick sighed and watched the door close then paused as he heard the soft thump of the boy landing on the bed-and then the louder thud of the dragon landing. The hatch closed with a snap.

"Could you please wait, Earwig?" the Chief asked as Hiccup warily looked over the edge of the loft platform. "You can come down now, Hiccup." The boy self-consciously scrambled down and glanced at the shape sitting in the chair, his emerald gaze inspecting the man sitting there. Earwig the Archivist was much younger than Hiccup had imagined by the title, a skinny lanky shape with spiky black hair and dark eyes and an infectious smile. Instinctively, the boy went to stand by the Chief and Hiccup found his large hand resting protectively on his shoulder. "This is him." Earwig looked him up and down.

"He is the image of the Chieftess," he agreed, his voice thoughtful. "And you had no idea of your parentage or history, boy?" Hiccup shook his head.

"No, sorry," he said, feeling he should apologise-but the Archivist raised a hand with a wry smile.

"I gather there is no fault on your part, lad," he commented. "It is what it is. All we can do is sort out a way to undo what has been done to you."

"If only it was that easy," Hiccup muttered. Earwig sighed.

"The laws that concern your situation-especially as an innocent hostage-are relatively straightforward," he explained. "But the problem is that even when you serve your village and are accepted by the Chief and Council…there seem to be those in this village who are irrevocably set against you."

"Can they stop me welcoming him to the village and accepting him as my son?" Stoick asked and Earwig sighed then shook his head.

"No," he said. "But they could refuse to accept him as Heir-or you as Chief." He rose. "You are blameless, Hiccup-but no matter what you have done or haven't done, it is almost impossible to overcome unreasoning hatred. Sometimes, the only solution will be a break point, a resolution that borders on catastrophic. Though I truly hope that it doesn't come to this." He walked to the door. "I'll look through the oldest scrolls just to check there isn't something else I can find in your favour, Chief." And then he bowed his head. "Chief, Hiccup…I am your man, no matter what happens."

The Chief stared at the door as it closed and then he sighed. "Unreasoning hatred," he murmured. "He's right. Spitelout will never let you stay unless something catastrophic happens…" Feeling a sense of dread, the boy looked up into his face.

"As long as it doesn't happen to you, Dad," he murmured. But Stoick the Vast smiled at his newly-found son, warmth filling his chest at the knowledge that somehow, the son he thought was dead was at his side.

"Don't you worry, Hiccup-I'm not going anywhere," he promised.