Thirty Nine: The Darkness of Night
The next morning, Hiccup was back at the forge just after dawn, quietly working on upgrading the tail and tweaking parts that he realised could function better. The gentle tap of a small hammer echoed through the forge and he jumped as Astrid tapped him on the shoulder. He yelped and dropped the small cog he had been working on.
"Morning!" she grinned as he crouched down and retrieved the little piece of metal.
"Gah-please don't sneak up on me like that!" he gasped, She smirked.
"I have been working on my stealth skills," she told him smugly. "You could do with practising…" He shrugged.
"I kind of already am," he sighed. "I mean, I have to try to keep out of everyone's way to avoid someone trying to throw me off the island as an Outcast…" Astrid inspected his face and saw a flash of bitterness in his eyes. Frowning, she jumped up to sit on the counter.
"Does it bother you?" she asked him directly, astutely gauging his responses. He shrugged aimlessly and then bent forward to carefully install the new component into the array.
"Why should it?" he asked her quietly. "I mean, I am just lucky to be alive. I was rescued from Outcast Island by the Chief. I have been treated and made welcome by a few people."
"But you were meant to be here," she reminded him. "I would be mad." He gave a small smile.
"Yes you would-because you're Astrid Hofferson. Fierce and brave and determined. I'm Hiccup. I'm not you. I mean, I'm sarcastic and clumsy and I'm always in the wrong place at the wrong time and…" He smiled. "And I'm grateful you're here." She paused, casting around and found what she was looking for, a broad-bladed knife, which she balanced careful on the tips of her fingers. She nodded.
"You are also cursed with the worst luck known on Midgard and a sense of timing meaning you always end up in trouble," she admitted, "but you are brave and you are clever and you are caring."
"Definitely don't sound anything like a Viking," he grumbled as she chuckled. "And that isn't gonna make me feel any better…"
"Hiccup," she said sternly, sliding to the ground. "I am going to teach you something that may be very useful. And I know you will pick it up because you have good hand-eye coordination and balance…"
"I hardly think…"
She flipped the knife in her hand and threw it, burying deep into the new wood of the rebuilt back wall, narrowly zipping past Hiccup's nose. He jerked back with a shocked look in his eyes.
"Hey!"
"You were safe," she assured him. "Look, you were never taught weapons craft, right?" He shook his head. "Can you use a knife?" He shrugged.
"For eating."
"For fighting." Her tone was stern.
"Have you seen me?" His tone was incredulous.
"Yup. Looking at you now."
"So may have noted I'm a skinny auburn fishbone?" he asked her dryly. "Who is shorter than all of the rest of you?" She nodded.
"Possibly."
"So close quarters combat would go really badly for me, right?" His emerald eyes were bright with concern as she looked him up and down, her expression still deep with concentration.
"Possibly. Probably. But I'm not suggesting you walk up to Spitelout and attack him with a knife." Astrid's tone was serious. "I am talking about using it as a missile."
"What?"
"I"m going to teach you how to throw a knife," she said. "I mean, I throw my axe and it took me years to learn-though I am very good now. But you already have really good motor control and you're pretty strong for your size. And I will teach you to use the bow in time-but I think, for now, you need to know how to throw a knife." She gestured. "That knife." Obediently, Hiccup walked to the knife and had to tug the blade hard to retrieve it: Astrid's throw had buried the blade pretty deep into the soft pine wood. He blinked and then looked around: the village was still quiet and few people were out and about in the cold early morning.
"Well, be careful," he warned her. "This could go anywhere."
But for the next half hour, she patiently taught him how to hold and throw the knife, how to compensate for the weight of the weapon and any other factor. And she corrected his hold and his stance. Finally she used some charcoal and drew a target in the shape of a bulky man on the back wall of the Forge.
"Spitelout," she said firmly. "Practice. And then practice more. This is a skill that may save your life." He sighed and then nodded, grasping the knife carefully and launching it firmly into the centre of the 'chest' of the outline.
"Like that?" he checked with a small smile and she nodded.
"Keep it up," she smiled and then collected her axe. "I have practice with Dad. He wants me to be the best I can be…" And she smiled. The tension from a few days earlier was gone, the sense of despair, of oppression, of sorrow had been replaced by the relationship with her father that Astrid had craved. A warm sense of relief at seeing her happiness washed over Hiccup and he smiled, pulling the knife from the wall.
"You're already the best," he assured her as he nodded. She smiled and ran off up the village as the sun climbed a little higher, burning back the mists and Hiccup made a few more throws before he returned to upgrading the tail.
oOo
The next couple of days passed quickly, a blur of hiding in the Forge and working for Gobber on the tail and on the village weapons, interspersed with trips to the forest to practice flying on Toothless and smooth their performance together as a pair. Toothless was by turns, impatient, exasperated and exuberant as the young Viking learned to read the dragon's slightest changes in muscle tension and attitude and anticipate which way to open the tail to match the dragon's extreme flight. As they flew, the pair grew closer, depending on each other, reading their sounds and expressions and growing to trust each other more and more. They tended to fly north over the island, away from the village and trying to avoiding the usual fishing grounds, so that they could just luxuriate in the experience. And in the air, high above the village and the disapproving stares of men he didn't know and who probably knew nothing actually about him, Hiccup felt free. High amid the cold air, looking down on the island, he felt as if nothing could stop him.
But in between, when they landed, Toothless willingly hid, refusing to sleep anywhere but where Hiccup was, for the Night Fury had recalled how close he had got to losing the boy. Hiccup practised throwing his knife and had sword practice with Astrid as well, though she deliberately went gently on him, since she was very aware of the scars from his whipping. But Hiccup was determined and whenever she challenged him, he gave everything, learning at an astonishing rate. But in public, like the rest, she blanked him. Gobber cheerfully ignored the prohibition but his friends acted as if he didn't exist. And though he knew it was an act-it still hurt.
But Hiccup was curled up in the loft of the Chief's House when Toothless woke him, his eyes huge and worried-looking. The dragon gave a worried warble and gently grabbed Hiccup's tunic in his teeth, tugging insistently towards the hatch. Blinking tiredly and looking around, the boy looked up.
"What is it, Toothless?" he yawned. "It's too early."
Toothless whined and shook his head, his ears flattened and body pressed close to the boy. Frowning, Hiccup sat up.
"What's wrong?"
The first explosion shook the village and Hiccup felt fear trickle through him: a raid. And though the Berkians were used to raids, used to the chaos and the fire and the fear, his recent experiences of raids had been anything but positive. And yet…he owed the village a duty, his work in the Forge as the battles continued, issuing weapons, working hard. He had to go out…
Rapidly, he pulled his fur vest on and his boots and then turned to press his hand on the dragon's warm snout. "I have to go out," he said softly. "The village is under attack. They need me." And he sighed. "And they can't see you, bud. They'll think you're here as part of the raid and will attack you. Stay here. Be safe…" Toothless crooned and Hiccup gently pressed his forehead against the dragon's face just for a second-and then he pulled away, haring down the stairs and running to the door. The Chef had already headed out and for a moment, Hiccup wondered how Stoick would react against the dragons, knowing now what he did…but then he realised that the Chief of the Hooligans would do what he needed to protect his Tribe and preserve what little they had.
And then he was out in the dark, the brilliant orange of flames meeting his eyeballs as he saw the Larsons' house on fire. He hoped Mrs Larson and all her children were safely in the Great Hall even as he sprinted past, seeing Fishlegs and Astrid chucking buckets of water onto the inferno with little prospect of success. He coughed as he inhaled a waft of thick woodsmoke and nodded briefly to the pair as he hared down, dodging through the battles. But his eyes were inexorably drawn to the dragons, seeing their eyes with the narrowly slitted pupils indicating they were under the malignant influence of the monster in the volcano. Distracted, he almost ran past the Forge until he collided with the solid shape of Astrid's father.
Yelping in pain, he rebounded and landed on his ass. Curling up in pain, he grimaced and then found a strong hand hauling him up.
"You okay, lad?" Ivar Hofferson asked in a low voice and Hiccup nodded dumbly. He chewed his lip.
"Thank you, sir," he said quietly and the big man nodded, the light of the flames illuminating his face.
"Take care," the older man murmured and headed back into the conflict, charging towards a pair of Nadders raiding a sheep pen. Hiccup stumbled into the Forge and Gobber looked up.
"No one cares in a raid, laddie," he reminded the boy as Hiccup pulled his leather apron on. "Now can you man the hatch?" There was a wicked look in Gobber's eye and the boy realised he was enjoying challenging the Vikings' stubbornness by placing it in direct conflict with their desire to survive. The two-limbed blacksmith switched out his hammer prosthesis for an axe and winked at the boy. "I trust you. Try not to destroy the Forge while I'm away!" The boy managed a small smile.
"I'll try-but shouldn't you be asking Snotlout the same question?" he asked as Gobber chuckled.
"I would-but the muttonhead seems to be hiding from his duties," he grumbled. "Take care, Hiccup!" And then he lumbered out into the fray. Shaking his head, Hiccup shoved the hatch open and stared at the Vikings looking back at him. He rolled his eyes.
"You can either fight the dragon with your charming Viking demeanour and questionable personal hygiene or you can ask me for whichever weapons you want!" he said firmly and there was an awkward second as a dozen eyes widened in shock-and then the Hooligans made the only decision they could.
"Sword!"
"Mace!"
"Axe-no, not that one…a double header!"
"Have you got any bolas?"
Hiccup immediately began handing out the weapons, noting the names of the men who took them. He saw Phlegma approaching and already had a suitable axe on hand for her when she reached the hatch: the stern warrior nodded and accepted the weapon before running with a scream at a nearby Gronckle. As soon as the rush settled, he grabbed the nearest couple of mangled weapons and stuffed them into the fire, then bounced up and down as he used his entire unimpressive body weight to pump the bellows.
The whole forge shook as an explosion sounded to his left and his head snapped up as one of the warehouses down by the cliff edge exploded. A pair of Zipplebacks emerged through the fireball and each pair of heads snatched a sheep that was trying to escape from the chaos. Hiccup saw Gronckles ramming the main storehouse on the Plaza and the Chief leading a counterattack while the twins joined Astrid and Fishlegs in putting out a fire on the grain store.
"Hello, Useless."
Hiccup spun round, hissing in pain-to see Snotlout and another young man, Yaklips's son, Yaknose-behind him in the Forge. His eyes widened.
"Do-do you need something, Snotlout?" he asked desperately. The Heir gave a nasty smile.
"Did you really ask that?" he sneered. "I mean, I knew you were a whore but that is just pathetic!"
"What? No! I-I…" Hiccup gabbled in shock. "What weapon have you come for?" And then he paused, knowing the young man wasn't here for a weapon. "Or are you hiding in here to avoid doing anything useful for the village, Snot?" The Heir's nasty expression grew darker.
"You are the only parasite here," he threatened. "And now you're lying about me…" Hiccup backed up a pace and felt the bench hit the back of his thighs.
"What-making sure people know what you've done is lies?" Hiccup replied, though he could feel his hands trembling. "Boy, you need to learn what the definition of a lie is. Here's a clue-it's something that isn't true! Not something you did but don't want people to learn about! And by the way, I'm working in the forge-or was until you arrived. You're supposed to be on the fire crew-don't see you putting out any fires…and there are plenty to choose from!"
"I'm the Heir!" Snotlout sneered. "I should be protecting the village!"
"Who's gonna protect it from you?" Hiccup asked breathlessly, feeling for his knife. He was insanely grateful for Astrid's lessons-though a small treacherous part of his mind was reminding him that being able to very accurately throw a knife was of limited help in close quarters against two people…
"You aren't going to care because sometime in this raid, the dragons are gonna get you," Snotlout sneered as he and Yaklips lunged at the smaller boy. Desperate, Hiccup ducked under his grasping arm, hit Yaklips on the knee with Sophie, Gobber's favourite hammer and dived through the hatch and scrambled into the Plaza. Yaklips bellowed in pain and clutched at his knees but Snotlout uttered a curse and jumped after the auburn-haired outsider. Hiccup was already up, glancing over his shoulder and running away from the Forge-almost into a blue Nadder. The creature lifted its head, the spiny frills raised and a loud hiss greeting him-and then it paused, sniffing. The dragon released the chicken it was holding by the wing-which immediately squawked and shot away-and then turned to face him, sniffing. Then it gave an excited chirrup and flew away.
"Just great," Hiccup muttered as he staggered forward. "Just when a ferocious dragon could be useful…" And then something him him in the back and he almost screamed in pain at the contact with his wounds. Snotlout was on top of him, grabbing his arms and pinning them across his back. Struggling without hope, Hiccup craned his neck and saw Yaknose limp out of the forge. "Get off me!" the boy grunted. Snotlout jerked him to his feet.
"As I said, no one will know how you died when the dragons have finished with you," he breathed and shoved the boy into Yaknose's arms. Breathing hard, Hiccup glanced around and saw they were half-shielded by the corner of the bakery and there was no one nearby. There was the clamour of battle, the hungry crackle of flames and the roar of dragons: no one would hear him.
Except one person.
"TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup yelled.
"Pathetic," Snotlout condemned him. "That is the most pathetic insult I have ever heard."
"TOOTHLESS! TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup shouted, praying the Night Fury was listening.
"I mean, my teeth are awesome, so even and white-I mean, I am the absolute perfect specimen of Viking manhood…"
"I don't even know where to start with that!" Hiccup retorted. "TOOTHLESS! I mean, if you were a man, you'd be out there fighting the dragons or doing your duty, not destroying the forge or hiding like the coward you are!" Snotlout snatched his knife out and levelled it at Hiccup.
"No one will even notice you're gone!" Snotlout hissed as Hiccup struggled again.
"TOOTHLESS! And I'm pretty sure people will," he said urgently. "TOOTHLESS!"
"You know that is the worst insult ever and it's not saving you…" Snotlout sneered and advanced.
Oh, I really hope he does, Hiccup thought, trying to press back into Yaknose. He kicked back at the larger boy's knee and though he yelped, the grip on his arms remained strong.
"I'm gonna feed you to a Gronckle!" Yaknose breathed hoarsely in his ear.
"I'd rather you didn't," Hiccup replied.
"My Dad said you were a threat to the village, that you were distracting the Chief and making him think I'm a bad Heir-so if you are gone, he'll realise he was wrong," Snotlout told him, approaching slowly.
"Actually, I think you made him realise you were a bad Heir all on your own," Hiccup gabbled. "I mean, you are the one abandoning your post by not being on the fire crew, you are the one who managed to blow Dragon Training, you are the one who destroyed the Thorstons' home and the forge-I never did any of that."
"But you made me!" Snotlout yelled, the knife suddenly pressed against Hiccup's neck. The auburn-haired boy stilled, the memories almost overwhelming.
"No," he breathed. "It was all you. It was always you. They just started seeing it."
"It's time they didn't see you again…" Snotlout hissed, his hand grabbing Hiccup's hair and pulled back the knife.
A growl sounded behind him and Yaknose's eyes widened in shock.
"Snot?" he mumbled.
"Not now, you muttonhead," the Heir growled.
"There's a dragon behind you," Yaknose whimpered his eyes wide with fear and voice a tremulous whisper. Snotlout opened his mouth to sneer a reply-but the growl was louder and much closer. He spun round and stared into the big green eyes of the Night Fury as Toothless emerged from the deep shadows. .
"NIGHT FURY!" he yelled-and then he ran for it, leaving Hiccup and the lame Yaknose exposed. The larger boy shoved Hiccup forward and turned to try to run after his friend but Toothless pounced, grabbing the larger boy in his teeth and tossing him in the air, then swiping his tail round to bat the boy away, flying thirty feet into the side of a house and hitting with sickening crunch. Hiccup collapsed to his knees and suddenly Toothless was there, nuzzling and nudging him urgently. Breathing hard, Hiccup rested his hands on the dragon's face.
"You shouldn't be here," he breathed. "You need to hide. You can't fly, Toothless-and this is a bad raid. The Vikings will want to kill any dragon they get their hands on…"
Toothless gave a worried croon and licked Hiccup's face. The boy sighed.
"Get out of here-and don't let anyone see you," he murmured. "I couldn't bear anything to happen to you…" Toothless gave a small croon. "Go on…: he breathed as he heard a sudden shout and the sounds of roars.
"To the Chief!"
Hiccup scrambled up and saw a large flock of dragons, Nightmares and Zipplebacks and Nadders, all surrounding a small number of defenders-Stoick, Gobber, Hoark, Phlegma and Ivar Hofferson. They were heavily outnumbered and the dragons looked wild and furious, feinting and lunging, closing the Vikings down and preparing for the kill. And the savage battles surrounding them meant there was no one else to help. They were going to die.
Without thinking, without hesitation, Hiccup threw himself into the saddle, his heel snapping down and opening the tail prosthesis. He was breathing hard feeling his pulse fluttering with anxiety-though a calm sense almost of resignation settled on him. There was no way anyone could miss him this time.
But he owed Stoick, the Chief-his father-his life.
"Let's go, bud," he breathed. "Time to face our destiny." And the Night Fury instantly launched, flapping almost vertically up into the inky sky, topping out and firing accurately to ward off a brace of Gronckles that seemed to be closing in on them. Hiccup leaned into the steep bank as they soared up and then accelerated, aiming directly at the attacking dragons. Hiccup was pressed as low as he could get to the saddle as they closed. And he could see Stoick looking up at the tell-tale whistle of the Night Fury and he tensed, hoping that the Chief would forgive him.
"Okay, bud-FIRE!"