Forty-Five: A Viking of Berk
Hiccup stared at the brooding, clearly furious shape of Snotlout and turned to face the other young man. His cousin. Gods, Snotlout was his cousin.
"I refuse to let you steal my birthright!" Snotlout said.
Hiccup swallowed, feeling his heart beat accelerate, his stomach roiling with anxiety. He hadn't faced Snotlout since that horrific night when Snotlout had ambushed him and…raped him. He could feel his hands trembling and he gently clenched them.
"But it isn't," Stoick said from behind the auburn-haired boy. Hiccup could hear the scrape of the chair across the stone floor and the creak of leather as the Chief stood up, towering above the pair of boys. "Your birthright is the leadership of House Jorgensen. And nothing more."
"I am the Heir!" Snotlout raged. "You made me Heir!"
"But it was never your birthright," the Chief told him with a hint of sympathy. "It was always the birthright of my son-and as he has returned, he will be restored to what is his by right. It's not yours, Snotlout. It was never yours-except by my gift. And I have to restore it to its rightful owner."
"I AM YOUR RIGHTFUL HEIR!" Snotlout yelled. "Not some filthy lying treasonous little Outcast slave!"
There was an audible intake of breath as Snotlout turned stare at the assembled Berkians.
"Have you all forgotten so quickly?" he sneered. "He was an escaped Meathead slave! He was bought from a whorehouse! He's a nasty lazy lying bastard-with no family. And he was given to the Outcasts, branded by them and raped and whipped. HE. IS. NOTHING!"
There were murmurs now as Stoick looked across the villagers and felt an inward sigh. He should have expected nothing less, expected the embittered and cowardly nephew to strike at the outsider to keep the privilege he had come to expect. And by dragging up all the old allegations, he was trying to undermine all that Hiccup had achieved.
"You're wrong," Hiccup said, his voice steadier than he had imagined he could manage. "I am not nothing. I am Hiccup. I lived with my aunt and uncle on Nott-and now, it seems, I was there because I was stolen as a baby on the assumption that my father would reject me. When they died, I was wronged. I did everything I could to survive, not because I wanted any of it but because being alive was better than being dead. And the Chief rescued me in my darkest hour. He brought me to Berk-and when I was here, I finally found people who would give me a chance. The Chief, Gobber, Astrid, Fishlegs…more friends, more people than I had for years! And with them, I found enough welcome-but not from most of you. And you tried to make my life miserable, Snotlout! You did everything to hurt me. Is that what you think being an Heir is about? Proving yourself by tormenting the weak and being cruel to those who have already suffered?"
"You don't matter," Snotlout said. "You're a slave."
Hiccup shook his head and slowly grasped the hem of his tunic, pulled it up and off, then facing the other young man-and the village behind him. His skinny shape, the white skin smattered with freckles and a few bruises still visible, shivered in the cool air. But on the left side of Hiccup's neck, stretching across the collar bones, upper chest and all over his left shoulder was a two week old burn, still healing and pink though scarring was starting to form. The auburn-haired boy shrugged.
"I have no brand," he said simply.
"It's illegal to remove a slave brand," Snotlout insisted.
"No one removed any brands," Hiccup told him simply. "These burns are from the battle with the giant Red Death dragon. They are my badge of honour-that and losing a leg. Remember that? Where I defeated the monster that had been controlling the raids for the last three hundred years? Or were you hiding in the ships as usual?"
"Why you…" Snotlout began but Hiccup stared into his face.
"The Chief has accepted me as his son," he reminded the other boy. "Cousin."
"You are NO kin of mine!" Snotlout yelled.
"But I am," Hiccup said, grimacing and pulling his tunic back on. Snotlout lifted his axe.
"Then I challenge you!" he yelled. There was a gasp. "And you have to face me, you wretched liar! I will dishonour you in front of the village. I will beat you-and then I will kill you!"
"Snotlout…" the Chief began but Snotlout shook his head.
"NO!" he yelled. "No! You caused this-by favouring this little slave, this man-whore above your own kin! My father died a hero and for you to treat me like this…"
"Spitelout wasn't a hero," Hiccup cut in, his eyes narrowed at the accusations to the Chief. "He was a cowardly traitor who was on that beach to kill the Chief and leave the blame on the giant dragon. I saw him walk towards the unarmed Chief as Dad was distracting the dragon to let you all escape. Spitelout held an axe in his hand, raised for battle and he was walking straight at the Chief. He never looked at the dragon. He died because of his treason and his own stupidity!"
There were loud gasps and murmurs throughout the hall as Snotlout turned puce with rage.
"LIES!" he yelled. "I challenge you! Or are you such a coward that you won't fight me?"
Hiccup stiffened and though he felt a flicker of fear still run through him, another emotion was warring with it-and winning. He was angry, more than he had been since he could remember. Snotlout had pushed him so much, had wronged him so many times and finally, he couldn't take it. And for once, he felt safe enough to face the other boy and tell him the truth.
"Snotlout-the only time we actually fought, I had you down," he said quietly. "And you-the coward that you are-had the twins pull me off you and hold me helpless as you beat me up. And then you whined to your parents that we had fought and they beat me as well. You held me helpless with a knife at my throat and assaulted me. You never fight fair! So which of us is the coward, Snotlout? You challenge me now when I am still healing and have only just lost a leg! Are you afraid of me in a fair fight?" Snotlout scowled.
"I don't fear you at all," he sneered. "You're nothing-and when I kill you, everything will be back as it was."
"No, it won't," Hiccup said. "You are not the Heir. You will not be the Heir again. You are the son of a traitor. And everyone knows that now."
"Shut up, slave!" Snotlout leered, menacing him with the axe.
"SNOTLOUT!" Stoick yelled but the boy turned to look at him with scorn and hatred.
"You know, I used to look up at you. And pity you. You never had a family and you were always kind to me-but you were stupid. The moment this little grifter turns up, you are fooled. He played you-it's the only explanation!"
"No-the Council has conducted their own investigations and proven that Hiccup is indeed Stoick's son!" Earwig announced. Snotlout almost exploded with rage.
"And why are you there, sitting in my father's place?" he raged. "I should be there, on the Council. That is a Jorgensen place!"
There was a sudden gale of laughter as everyone started to roar with amusement at the presumption of the boy.
"This is the village Council, a Council of Elders and senior warriors," Gobber announced. "You aren't an elder, you aren't a warrior and you certainly aren't wise enough to justify even sitting in on a Council meeting. And yeh did attend as Stoick's Heir in the past, when he was trying to train yer muttonheaded carcass as his Heir. Yeh just fell asleep with boredom! And yeh learned nothing!"
"I learned that a challenge has to be answered-or the coward who declines has to be exiled!" Snotlout sneered. "So what are you going to do…Hiccup?" He gave a leer. "Answer me-and get killed-or run away like the nothing that you are?"
The auburn haired boy glanced at the crowd and saw Astrid, standing with her parents and Eva, saw Fishlegs with his solid, parents all looking nervous and the twins who were already yelling "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"
"I think we already all know I will fight to protect this village-from a three hundred year old menace, from Outcast invaders-and from you," Hiccup said evenly. "But I beg you not to. Your Mom has already lost her husband and you have caused the truth about his actions to come out, losing her the honour in which he had been held. If you fight, you will lose her the last remaining person she has…"
"I think you overestimate yourself!" Snotlout yelled.
"Really?" Hiccup asked. "As you have issued the challenge, I have the right to choose the weapons."
"That is correct," Mulch announced. Snotlout's fists tightened, his knuckles showing white through the skin.
"Then what are you choosing, bitch?" Snotlout asked him callously. "You can barely lift an axe or a hammer. Maybe a belt knife? Or a toothpick? Or a…" Hiccup took a deep breath.
"I choose dragons," he said.
Snotlout started laughing at him and then suddenly charged the young man. Hiccup backed up a couple of steps and whistled-and in that moment, the sleek black shape of Toothless bounded forward from behind the Council table where he had been curled, waiting. The auburn-haired Viking ducked as the axe swiped inches above his head-and then Toothless fired as he leapt over the table, blasting the axe from Snotlout's hands and then landing on the stocky young man, a roar echoing through the Great Hall. Claws digging into his chest and the dragon's weight pinning him helpless, Snotlout looked up.
"NIGHT FURY!" he yelled. "Help me! KILL IT!"
Toothless roared furiously in the boy's face and he cringed. The dragon gave a sniff and the Council all grimaced, for Snotlout had soiled himself.
"Toothless-hold," Hiccup said, limping forward and resting a hand on the dragon's neck. "It's okay, bud-we don't want to kill him. We just need to subdue him."
"Aye-well, ye've certainly done that," Gobber commented, flapping in front of his nose with his real hand and grimacing.
"You are going to have to kill me," Snotlout hissed. "Because I will never stop trying to get back what is mine."
"And what is that?" Stoick asked, walking forward to stand by his son. "The birthright of my son-not Spitelout's son? The honour of your family-which you relinquished by plotting against me? Your father-who was killed attempting treason when he should have been helping ensure the village was safe, as he was asked? Hiccup took none of those. You threw them away. And while you cannot get your father back and reclaim what was never yours, you can regain your honour by becoming the man your father would have wanted."
"Snotlout-you are my cousin, my kin," Hiccup told him. "You are all your mother has. She has lost her husband and she doesn't deserve to lose you. And though she is prideful and cruel, I know what it is like to lose your family-and it is horrible. Don't do that to her. Please!"
"Hiccup has won the challenge," Sven announced.
"He cheated!" Alva yelled and Dogface joined in. Yakears, another son of Yaklips and Dogsbreath, son of Dogface also started yelling 'cheat' and Stoick sighed.
"The challenge was met," he announced but the village took up the shout.
"WE WANT A FIGHT! WE WANT A FIGHT!"
"And the muttonheads strike again," Stoick breathed. "Like a flock of sheep. And those twins really aren't helping…" Hiccup looked up and his hand found Stoick's.
"A Viking must fight, right?" he sighed as his father nodded wearily.
"But we can schedule the fight when you have had a better chance to heal…" he murmured as Hiccup looked over the villagers. He shook his head.
"No," he said. "That will keep the Tribe divided. It has to end today…by whatever means…" He looked up. "Sword!" he said. After gently tapping the Night Fury's shoulder, Toothless backed off, still growling at Snotlout as Astrid ran forward.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, swatting Hiccup's shoulder-unfortunately his left one. He jumped back and clutched at the point of contact.
"OW! Why would you do that?" he protested.
"Why would you do this?" she demanded furiously. "You had him beaten. And now…well, he's bigger and stronger than you and he hasn't just lost a leg…"
"Thank you for summing that up," Hiccup replied sarcastically. "It makes me feel so much better."
"He's a good swordsman," Stoick murmured. "Strong and quick but not very tactically astute." Hiccup nodded as his father pulled out his own sword and handed it to his son. "This has always served me well," the Chief said with a concerned look in his eye. "I am proud of you, son. I wanted you to know that. Whatever happens…you are the son I always wanted.' Hiccup felt his eyes sting with emotion and he blinked.
"Thanks, Dad," he murmured. "I mean, I've heard you say that a Chief protects his own. And the Tribe is my own. Letting Snotlout cause dissension and division is dangerous."
"And yet he would never have realised that," Stoick sighed. "Take care." He nodded and looked to Astrid. She nodded and walked to stand right by him.
"Watch him carefully," she murmured. "He always cheats." Hiccup nodded.
"Kind of banking on it," he admitted as Hoark handed Snotlout a weapon and the stocky boy feinted a couple of moves. Astrid suddenly lunged forward and pressed a swift kiss on the one-legged boy's lips.
"You better not get yourself killed, Haddock," she told him. "You're my best friend and the only person here with any sense." Smiling goofily, Hiccup chuckled.
"Touched. Truly touched by your concern," he managed dryly. "Not in a hurry to die. Tried it once-almost-and really didn't enjoy that." Then he grasped the sword in his right hand. "If anything happens, look after Toothless for me. Please?" She nodded as he turned to the dragon. "You gotta watch, bud. I have to do this." Giving a sad warble, the dragon quietly sat behind the Chief and Astrid as the villagers backed away to give them enough room for the combat.
Hiccup concentrated on Snotlout, knowing that there was no one here who would interfere, would cheat on his behalf. Stoick was watching closely-as were Astrid and Fishlegs and the twins had already moved to stand beside Dogsbreath and Yakears, glaring at them. It would be fair…except he was still not fully healed from his injuries from the Red Death and was still learning to walk on his metal leg. He would have to let Snotlout think he was winning-without letting him win and kill Hiccup. Because he was absolutely certain that Snotlout wanted him dead.
In a rush, Snotlout attacked and Hiccup parried awkwardly, the sword gripped tightly in his right hand, trying to mimic the movements Astrid had struggled to teach him. He managed to scramble up a couple of solid parries before the next two-handed blow at his head drove him back and he took an unsteady step. And he was expecting it when Snotlout's leg lashed out, meeting it with his metal foot and getting a hard kick in before the other boy could sweep his legs from under him. The stocky boy yelped and jumped back.
"Did you see that? He cheated!" he protested.
"Yeah-by blocking your kick at his leg," Astrid said without any sympathy.
"You want to surrender?" Hiccup asked, breathing hard. "Your Mommy isn't going to fight this battle for you!"
"While your 'Daddy' is gonna watch his pathetic runt of a lying fake son die!" Snotlout sneered and slammed another blow at Hiccup's head. He clumsily staggered back another pace and backed away as Snotlout kept hammering away. Finally, Hiccup knew he had blocked the other boy enough. He allowed himself to be knocked down and braced the sword with both arms as he blocked a chopped stroke at his head. And then his metal leg swung up and he gritted his teeth against the painful impact on the sensitive still-healing stump as Snotlout bellowed in pain, stumbling back and doubling up. Hiccup swung the sword in his left hand, the blow much harder and knocking the sword from Snotlout's loosened fingers. The sword clanged as it flew free and clattered across the stone floor and Hiccup rolled to his knees, the sword levelled at Snotlout's middle.
"Yield!" Hiccup insisted as Snotlout stared at him in horror-then dived away and grabbed his axe, ready to charge for the smaller teen. But in that moment, Hiccup threw himself up and lunged forward, his sword stabbing deep into the back of Snotlout's shoulder. His cousin bellowed and the axe fell from nerveless fingers as he dropped to his knees. Breathing hard and limping badly, Hiccup rested the sword against the back of his neck.
"YIELD!" he demanded.
"You're going to have to kill me-because I'm never going to stop trying to get back was you've stolen from me!" Snotlout said as Hiccup cast a glance at Stoick who looked stonily at his son. Then slowly, reluctantly, he raised his sword.
"No," he murmured as the sword flashed down, the flat of the sword cracking the back of Snotlout's head and knocking him unconscious onto his face. Slowly, Hiccup lowered his sword. "No-I will not kill an unarmed man. I will not kill someone through pride and arrogance. I cannot help who I am, who I was born to be. I choose not to kill him. Snotlout chooses to be the person he is, the cruel, lazy, arrogant bully. And he can only learn to do better if he is alive." He turned unsteadily and looked directly at Alva. "You treated me very badly, Alva-but I will not take your son from you. He is all you have, your closest family. As someone who lost all I loved, I would never wish that on another." And he paused. "Even though your son was happy to steal the Chief's only child all over again."
There was a long, thoughtful silence-and then the Vikings started cheering. "HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP!" The young man staggered and leaned against the table-as Astrid ran to his side and helped steady him. Toothless immediately nudged him and he sighed, rubbing the dragon's head.
"It's okay, bud," he murmured. Astrid punched his shoulder hard. "OW!"
"Why did you use your right hand, muttonhead?" she snapped. "He could have killed you…"
"I knew I could hold him off long enough for him to get overconfident," he explained. "Remember, he's never seen me fight. So he doesn't know I'm left-handed." Stoick stared in shock. The boy gave a self-conscious smile. "Yeah…I may have…tried to fool him…"
"But that was extraordinary," he breathed, accepting his sword back. "And you spared him."
"He is my cousin," Hiccup said in a resigned voice. "Happy families all round." But Stoick shook his head.
"Anyone can kill an opponent," he said. "It takes far more courage and honour to allow an enemy to live, to give him a second chance."
"Yeah…to kill you," Astrid muttered. And then she exhaled. "I am proud of you," she added. He shrugged.
"Yeah…killing people really isn't me either," he admitted. "If there is any other way, I have to try…" Alva looked up from Snotlout's side and her eyes were dark with loathing and defeat.
"Thank you," she said, without specifying who she was speaking to. "For sparing my son's life." Stoick nodded and Hiccup did, after a few moments. Then the Chief looked to the village.
"My son, your new Heir!" he said and gently turned Hiccup to face the crowd. There was immediately cheering and whooping, celebrating the miraculous return of the Chief's son, a new and already probably better Heir and the salvation of their village by the young man. Feeling self-conscious and exhausted, Hiccup forced a smile on his face and looked across his legally adopted and actual birth Tribe. And the warmth of his father's hand on his shoulder, Toothless resting his head under his other hand and Astrid at his side eased the aches in his exhausted shape. "Welcome home, son!"
oOo
Snotlout didn't stay. Humiliated, defeated by his foe and deprived of his rights as Heir of Berk, the boy had insisted on leaving Berk and heading out for Meathead, where Alva had distant kin. Stoick dutifully saw them off but was ignored by the furious Snotlout as he inexpertly sailed the little ship with all their possessions in it. Hiccup stayed away, though he and Toothless circled above the harbour, checking the ship made it safely out to sea. He had initially been worried that Snotlout was going to Meathead but he no longer had a slave brand and was the acknowledged son and Heir to Chief Stoick. Every member of the Council had reassured him that he was safe and that no one could now have any claim on him.
He slowly recovered from his injuries, learning to walk again and getting great help from Gobber, Mulch and Bucket, all of whom were amputees. And though he was the youngest-and hopefully last-dragon amputee in Berk, the presence of others made him feel less self-conscious about his difference. And his friends helped as well, accepting him as he was and valuing him for his kindness, support and instinctive skill at dragon training. Stoick and the Council all took him under their wings, helping him adjust to Berk and learn about how the village worked. And the people of Berk, who had initially been so hostile, realised what they owed to the young man and were profuse in their apologies, welcoming him and gifting him with food and other presents. And slowly, the last of the people who were prejudiced against him reluctantly came round, seeing a young man who was hardworking, honest and decent.
But his most treasured times were with Toothless, soaring above the island and floating on the winds, feeling freer than he had felt in his whole life. And now, up here with his best friend beneath him and his best human friend flying along beside him, the cold didn't matter. He had his home and his family, a father who loved him and always found time for his son, every single day. And his friends who were crazy and sometimes irritating but always available if he was feeling down or just wanted someone to talk to.
Astrid was always there for him, insisting he continued training with her-though Stoick gave him some sword lessons as well-and but she spent most of the rest of her time with him. In the forge, riding her Nadder, Stormfly, and helping to train the others with their dragons, she was always at his side. Spending time with her was easy, for she accepted him, knowing what had befallen him and not seeing it as any sort of barrier. Even Ilsa came round eventually and Eva kept asking when he would marry Astrid-to the embarrassment of both teens. And while he wasn't sure if Astrid felt something, he knew he did and even if nothing ever came from it, he still had her as the most amazing friend. But in his heart, he really really hoped she may one day want more.
Winter came and went and he celebrated his sixteenth birthday during the depths of winter, with his father and friends. The blizzards of Devastating Winter were howling outside and it was extremely cold-but inside the house, the fire was blazing and it was warm and safe. Gobber, Astrid and her parents, Mulch, Bucket, his friends and, of course, Toothless were all in attendance with Hiccup and Stoick. Having a feast at his home, with a boar roasted over the fire and all sorts of treats sent by the village, Hiccup was shocked and touched. It was the first birthday he could recall where he felt completely wanted and loved and as he sipped his mead at the end of the meal, he looked around the Chief's House at the guests all seated at the table, grinning as he felt Toothless nudge him and lick his hand.
"Thanks, bud," he murmured. "Love you too." Astrid smiled at the answering croon and her hand brushed his. She was wearing a new red tunic and her golden hair was braided intricately over her left shoulder. Her bright blue eyes sparkled and Hiccup almost lost his breath. His mouth worked as he smiled back. "You too…" he mumbled.
"What?" she asked him, playfully tapping his shoulder with his fist.
"Um…nothing," he said, blushing fiercely. She smiled and leaned over, pressing a very quick kiss on his cheek.
"You tell yourself that, Hiccup," she whispered. "Happy birthday." Stoick chuckled.
"I see you've inherited the old Haddock way with the ladies," he said enthusiastically as Hiccup blushed more fiercely and even Astrid's cheeks grew pink. Ivar Hofferon nudged Ilsa and they both started laughing as well.
"Yeah," Gobber commented dryly. "Blushing, falling over your words and finally managing to talk to one at the last minute when someone else pushes you into it!" Stoick nodded.
"That's the old Haddock way!" he laughed. Hiccup rested his forehead on his hand.
"Thor help me," he muttered. Astrid nudged him.
"We'll talk about this later," she promised and his eyes widened in shock.
"Boy, I'm in trouble now," he murmured, though there was a hopeful grin on his face, his emerald eyes sparkling with joy. Then Stoick rose, his mug in his hand.
"To my son!" he announced. "To Hiccup! Once Lost-and now home!"
"To Hiccup!" they all announced. "To Hiccup!"
Sipping his mead, Hiccup smiled as he looked around the room once more, happiness settling over him like a blanket. For a second, he recalled where he had been this time last year and he shuddered at the dismal memory-but it was over. In the past. He was no longer Hiccup, the boy who wasn't wanted, who was enslaved and abused because no one wanted him, who had run and ended up with no choice but to sell himself for the chance not to freeze to death.
My name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. For most of my life, I believed that my mother had died, my father had rejected me and that I lived with my aunt and uncle. I have been enslaved and abused and somehow, I survived. And by the grace of the Gods, I ended up on Berk and when I came here, a miracle happened. I found my real father, who was never told I survived my birth, and I found some friends. I found a Tribe of my own, not all of whom are kind but who have accepted me as a member. And I trained a dragon, befriending a wild beast and finding my truest friend and brother. We complete each other, we support each other and together, we have ended a war and saved the Archipelago. I was nothing, despised and worthless and hopeless-and now they call me a hero and I have become the new and rightful Heir to Berk.
And I am finally happy and safe. I am a Viking. I am a Hooligan. And I used to be a Lost Boy, abandoned and worthless, but finally, I'm home.
The End.
A/N: And finally, we reach the end. My take on a "Hiccup was raised elsewhere" story. It only took about three years (yeah, sorry about the 21 month hiatus between chapters 18 and 19) and I hope you enjoyed the (sometimes bumpy) ride.
Other stories will be continuing shortly. And I have signed up for a One-Shot challenge with Vala411 (what was I thinking?) which will be out next wishes and thanks for reading-harrypanther.