A fleet of incoming Viking ships, close to the shore but holding back in spite of their battle lust, preparing catapults but not daring to land. No one wanted to die to the demon on the shores of the nest, a monster so big she had cracked the mountain open just to exit it. Six eyes, lumpy, massive. The dragons of the nest had fled like their enslaver, the Queen, was personally on their heels, and were long gone.
All save two. A black blur held the Queen's attention, swooping and curving around that many-eyed head, avoiding snapping teeth and large bursts of fire with ease. Unobserved by the Queen, another black blur landed on the shore, near a glint of metal.
Toothless thought that this was a good plan, but he still didn't like it. 'Is this part necessary?'
Hiccup was currently picking up his scythe. Svarturkló was keeping the Queen occupied for the moment, though she wouldn't last long on her own. "Yes. I don't like it either, but we need to make her mad, get her to stop thinking before she attacks." He hefted the scythe as he and Toothless shot back towards the Queen. "This'll do that perfectly."
Hiccup didn't like this part of the plan much either. Aside from the dangers involved, it almost felt cruel. But then he remembered what the Queen had done to Toothless and Svarturkló, to all of the dragons, to three hundred years of Viking villages. He wouldn't enjoy it, but she definitely deserved it.
Toothless flew straight at the Queen's back. She was still distracted, so he was able to swoop low, flying just feet from her back as he followed her spine up to her head. This was it. He landed softly on the Queen's armored neck.
There was no immediate response. Svarturkló was doing a great job of keeping the Queen's attention, swooping in loops around her.
Hiccup wanted to celebrate. He had guessed by looking at her that with scales so large and and heavy, the queen wouldn't notice the slight weight of the rider and dragon who would be flies to her. They moved into position, Toothless creeping along the large scales, taking care not to step in the large cracks running between the armored plating, where the more sensitive skin was visible. Hiccup got off of Toothless's back and stood on the ridge. They were on top of the Queen's head, and couldn't speak anymore, for fear she would hear. Hiccup steeled himself. He raised his scythe.
He couldn't do it. Not in cold blood. Toothless's face was frozen in a snarl, directed at the monster of a dragon below them, encouraging Hiccup to act. But he couldn't.
At that moment, the Queen changed tactics and began inhaling powerfully. So powerfully, in fact, that Svarturkló was being sucked in. She had been flying too close to avoid this change in tactics and would be in the Queen's mouth in seconds.
'Hiccup!' Toothless was panicking and spoke despite the likelihood of being noticed. He knew he hadn't liked this part of the plan, and now it was going wrong!
Hiccup heard Toothless and saw the situation. It gave him the motivation he needed. He broke his frozen stance with the scythe raised to strike and swung it down through the air in a half-circle, impacting a few feet below the ridge he was standing on, looking almost like a miner, swinging an oversized pickaxe to mine something below him. He felt sick. No matter who he was doing this to, it felt cruel.
From the fleet, Gobber and Stoick watched in frustration, waiting for the catapults to reload, despite the utter uselessness of the first volley. As they saw what Hiccup intended, the frustration grew.
"We've gotta get out there. I don't like sittin' around and watchin'!" Gobber was unsure exactly what was going on, but he saw a monstrosity that needed to be destroyed, and he didn't particularly care how such a feat was to be accomplished. He just wanted to be involved.
Stoick, on the other hand, was furious as well as confused. Hiccup was fighting the fight he had aspired to for decades like any Viking would when given the chance. Taking stupid risks, like what Hiccup was doing at the moment. Going for the eyes with his weapon, standing on the head of his enemy. But...
He was doing it with the help of two demons. Stoick couldn't reconcile that with anything he knew. Save for one old incident. His mind spun, trying to connect those dots. After a moment, he slowly began grinning. He thought he understood now. Drago had been a menace. But his own son would be an asset, controlling dragons, however, it was done. If that was what was going on.
The Queen abruptly stopped inhaling, choking out a frenzied roar of pain. The scythe's spike had been driven straight into one of her eyes.
Hiccup wanted to throw up. He quickly pulled the scythe back and didn't look at the blade as he put it back in its holster.
The Queen shook her head violently, and Toothless grabbed Hiccup with his mouth as he held on with his claws. Hiccup climbed back over Toothless to the saddle, and Toothless launched himself off of her head at the apex of one of her swings. A brief moment occurred in which Hiccup was clearly visible to the Queen's remaining eyes, and he knew it.
"Or maybe you're just slow in general!" Hiccup yelled, taunting her. Toothless flipped out of the way of an enraged snap, teeth the size of stalactites slamming together behind him.
Toothless and Svarturkló met up in the air a short distance out of the Queen's reach and waited to see how she would respond. That had been the first part. Get her angry. Hopefully, it had been enough.
Hiccup didn't want to look, but the fight wasn't over. He saw the Queen bellowing in pain, one of her eyes held tightly shut. She had five more, so it wasn't a debilitating injury. That hadn't been the point. She saw the Furies hovering just above her fire's reach from the ground. Her old, leathery wings unfolded for the first time in what might have been centuries. They were massive, even for a dragon that size. She ponderously lifted into the air, apparently intent on destroying them in the sky. That had been the point. Get her in the air.
"Well," Hiccup remarked as they fled, "she can fly!" The wind was cold, rushing past his face as Toothless fled the enraged Queen, the two Furies staying just ahead of her massive bulk.
Toothless was starting to feel the strain of staying ahead of the deceptively quick Queen. 'Too well!' Hiccup's taunts were proving quite inaccurate.
Hiccup pointed at the clouds that were gathered above them. "Time to disappear, then!" He accessed Toothless's senses completely. He would need the enhanced vision to see anything in there. Hopefully the Queen wouldn't be able to see them.
Toothless and Svarturkló flew into the clouds, the Queen right behind them. They immediately swerved in opposite directions and put some distance between themselves and the now confused Queen. Toothless could see, and by extension, so could Hiccup. The Queen, however, apparently could not. She twisted around, trying to locate them.
An eerie screech echoed, and a blue plasma blast impacted one ponderously massive wing, followed by a deafening roar of anger from the Queen.
Svarturkló swerved, her voice panicked as she passed Toothless. 'That barely did anything!'
She was right. The smoke of the explosion had cleared to reveal a small hole, slowly ripping and expanding under the pressure of holding the Queen up. Too small, a dot on the surface of those massive wings.
'This is going to take a lot of shots.' Toothless realized, watching the tear. 'Maybe too many.'
"Then we change the plan." Hiccup said, sounding more confident than he felt. He was whispering, the world silent save for the massive wingbeats. "Wings are too big, scales too thick. So, we shoot her eyes-"
'Finishing what your scythe started.' Toothless caught on. 'What then? She isn't using her sight to try and find us in this fog anyway.'
Svarturkló passed them again. 'Then I take over.'
"What does that mean?" Hiccup asked quietly as they curved back around to angle towards the Queen's left side.
'I don't know, but at least she has some sort of plan.' Toothless responded, before shooting a smaller plasma blast at one of the Queen's six eyes, hitting in a nauseating explosion of fire and blood, along with other unidentifiable bits. The scythe had been bad, but this was a thousand times worse. The Queen's roar of shock and pain rattled the very air around them, the fog moving in waves outwards before flowing back, almost moving as water from the sheer force of her outburst.
One eye blinded by a metal spike, another by fire. The fight continued, both Furies dodging frenzied and random blasts of fire, pillars of heat that rammed through the fog, sometimes far too close for comfort. The Queen's eyes were destroyed, one by one, each successful blow enraging and injuring her further. Her head became something grotesque to look upon, a bleeding mass with holes on both sides, dripping blood and other unidentifiable liquids.
Hiccup forced himself to watch, to make sure nothing the Queen did would catch either Fury by surprise, not if he could give warning. It was all he could do, no matter that his stomach heaved at the sight of the Queen's ruined face. Not that it was that appealing to begin with.
Once the last eye had been hit, Svarturkló broke the silence, Toothless hearing her words even as he gasped in horror, seeing his mother fly directly in front of the Queen.
'You will never take another as your thrall again!' Svarturkló yelled angrily. 'Not without eyes!'
It was true, he realized. The Queen apparently needed eye contact to establish control, if not to use it once it had been rooted in a dragon. They had broken all of her roots, and then taken her eyes from her, permanently. She would never enslave another dragon again.
The Queen snarled wordlessly, lunging through the air towards Svarturkló, who dodged, having expected the attack. Svarturkló dropped, screeching all the way, drawing the Queen after her.
Toothless and Hiccup followed the two out of the fog, down towards the island. It dawned on them, both figuring out at about the same time what Svarturkló was doing.
The Night Fury and the Queen sped directly towards the shattered volcano, towards the jagged spikes and rubble the Queen had smashed out of the side of the mountain while making her exit. Their path was just level enough that the blind Queen didn't sense a plummet and pull out.
The Queen was so massive, so heavy. It would take unimaginable force to do true damage to her, to break bone or puncture scale and muscle.
Svarturkló was using the Queen's size against her. The only thing capable of killing the Queen, of breaking her… was her own weight and speed, her now unstoppable momentum.
Svarturkló pulled up, abruptly ceasing the screech that allowed the Queen to follow, to know where she was, and banked, flying away from the imminent impact.
Hiccup, filled with foreboding, urged Toothless towards her, even as all three of them watched the Queen's final moment.
She likely never knew what had happened. Her head hit first, smashing into the stone like a hammer into a log, denting but not breaking. A resounding snap rang through the air, followed by the odd sight of that massive body stopping dead, repulsed by the strength of earth and stone, neck snapped by the force of the impact.
That was not the end, however. The rest of the Queen's body slammed into the ground, and something happened. It was likely that a sharp fragment of rubble was in the right place to pierce between the Queen's scales, or it might have been that her underside was simply less thick and tough. Either way, something ruptured her, something set off a chain reaction.
The Queen did not simply die. She exploded, her internal gas lighting and finding nowhere to go, force momentarily contained by her body made devastating, a fireball turned by circumstance into a bomb. A shockwave of sound and force radiated outwards, followed by a quickly dissipating wave of flame.
Both Furies faltered, but Svarturkló was closer to the body, and did not recover. She dropped into a freefall.
Toothless dove at her, moving through fast enough to call up that signature whistling shriek through the force of the air moving around him. Fast enough to get to Svarturkló before she hit the unforgiving stone ground and sharp rubble.
The impact slammed Hiccup in the saddle, and made Toothless grunt in pain. They continued to descend, only a slight angle and curve to their descent categorizing it as any more controlled than Svarturkló's fall had been.
"Did you get her?!" Hiccup called out, unable to see clearly enough to tell.
Toothless looked back, grinning a gummy smile despite the situation. That was the last thing Hiccup saw before they hit the ground, just outside of the rubble that would have killed them upon impact.
When Hiccup opened his eyes, all he could see was black scales. He heard growling… and voices. Suspiciously Viking voices. Great. Just great. He shifted, and the scales around him tightened protectively. He could feel bruises everywhere, but that was it.
Well, it for what he could feel. It became apparent that his lower foot was numb, as if it wasn't there.
He looked down, breathing out when he saw that his foot was merely numb, likely from the odd way he was lying on the ground, cutting off the blood flow. It was a miracle the crash hadn't been worse.
"Hey. I'm fine, let me out so I can deal with them." He wasn't at all certain how he'd 'deal' with several shiploads of Vikings, but the only human representative of his group would probably have the best chance of keeping them alive. The scales around him withdrew, and he stood up, quickly taking stock of the situation.
The Vikings from the boat were spreading out across the island. Most of them were heading towards what was left of the Queen, in some sort of twisted fascination. A crowd of about twenty surrounded Hiccup, Toothless and Svarturkló, almost completely encircling them but keeping a distance from the Night Fury nesting over his rider and the other hopping around them and roaring at anyone who got too close. Svarturkló was a few feet away, staring directly at Stoick. Gobber was with Stoick.
Hiccup also noticed Astrid, who was getting a little bit closer to Toothless every time the dragon turned his head to watch another section of the crowd around them. The intent in her eyes was evident, along with that subtle hint of madness he was able to see recently. Stoick didn't seem aware of her.
Hiccup supposed he must make quite a sight right now. He had no idea where his scythe was. Feeling at his back, it was apparent that the holster had ripped off, probably during the immense wind pressure of the last dive. He guessed that his scythe was probably gone. Oh well. He could make a new one.
Stoick cleared his throat. And then burst out laughing.
Toothless and Svarturkló both glanced at him, before returning to their vigils. Astrid had crept closer.
Stoick finally stopped laughing. "So son, let me see if I've put this together correctly." He seemed entirely sure of what he was saying as he outlined his ridiculously twisted theory on what was going on. "At some point, you discovered how to break and train dragons, like horses. You somehow discovered what lived here. When we caught the Fury, it was actually Thor giving you a dragon powerful enough for you to kill this... thing. You're the greatest Viking Berk has ever seen! Other lands break horses for travel, or train falcons to hunt. You figured out how to subdue dragons!" He seemed almost desperate for this to be the case, and there was a dark undertone to what he was saying. The hidden message seemed to be, "Last chance. Take this twisted version of events, make it the truth, and we can all pretend this isn't what it clearly looks like."
Hiccup heard both parts, stated and implied. He considered Astrid behind him. The fact that she was fixated on killing dragons, and probably Night Furies in particular now. Along with him. He considered Snotlout and Spitelout, who were willing to kill him to make Snotlout the heir. He considered Stoick, who was offering him a way to stay on Berk, with all of that. All he would have to do is lie, and deny everything he had learned and discovered, and instead claim this was some sort of one-time miracle from the gods. That he had discovered how to break dragons and force them to serve him. Stoick clearly wanted to believe that version of events, needed to believe it.
Hiccup wouldn't even think about that choice. But Stoick wasn't really giving him the choice anyway.
Stoick held out his ax, his tone deceivingly jovial. "But I see two Night Furies here. You can keep the one Thor gave you. But kill the other one. They've raided us for hundreds of years, and you still need to kill a dragon yourself to pass initiation and become a real Viking. Besides, it's crippled. A Viking doesn't use broken weapons. That's all they are now. Weapons." He gestured with the ax, wanting Hiccup to take it.
Toothless. Stoick was telling him to kill Toothless.
Astrid was getting closer now. She was almost in guaranteed ax-throwing range of the crippled Fury. Once she got that close, she'd attack. The Fury was staring at Stoick, so it didn't notice her.
Hiccup looked at Stoick, and took the ax. He turned to Toothless.
Stoick practically beamed in delight. "That's my-"
Hiccup made eye contact with Toothless, and in that instant rushed Astrid, who was about to throw her ax. His approach forced her to keep the ax to defend herself. She screamed in frustration and attacked him.
Svarturkló blasted Astrid's ax as she raised it to attack. The force knocked her back, and her head hit the ground, knocking her out.
Hiccup returned to the center of the circle, standing between the two Furies. He whispered to them. "Get ready to fly."
The Vikings were watching from the ring around the Furies. They had no idea what to think. On the one hand, there was the chief's version of events. The one where Hiccup was the greatest Viking ever, a Viking who could subdue and control dragons. He was just stopping Astrid from stealing his kill. Perfectly normal for a Viking. On the other hand, there was the version of events in which... well, they didn't know what was going on. Just that Hiccup seemed to be siding with the dragons, but against that massive one here. They waited for Hiccup to clarify which version was the truth. So that they would know whether to admire or hate him.
Hiccup wore a sad smile. He might, in a perfect world, have convinced the Vikings of Berk that dragons weren't the enemy. But not now. Not when Stoick had given them an alternative they would prefer. Not when he had no supporters, and several people actively plotting to kill him. This wasn't going to accomplish anything. But he was going to tell the village, once and for all, exactly what was going on, and how he felt about them. Then he'd leave. Toothless had just suggested an exit strategy, and Hiccup subtly nodded to confirm he was okay with it. Toothless and Svarturkló were ready. He whispered some final instructions to Svarturkló and spoke his mind.
"That is a tempting interpretation of events. For you. It fits the Viking way perfectly. The thing is, it's laughably wrong. You want to know the truth? I shot the 'cripple' as you call him, down out of the sky myself!" Hiccup's voice dripped with sarcasm at the word 'cripple', and he put the hand not holding the ax on the Fury's back. "I found him, trapped and helpless, and I didn't kill him. And he didn't kill me. Because I had freed him from the control of the Queen by shooting him down. They aren't the enemy. They never were. She was." He gestured to the corpse most of the Vikings were still investigating. "And so we bonded. I learned from him, and he from me. I let him watch through my eyes as I went through life in the village. And he felt bad for me. A dragon, of all things, saw my life and decided that I could use a friend. Because none of you cared." This was a slightly twisted version of events in itself, but Hiccup wanted to make a point. It was still in essence what had happened.
He pointed at Gobber. "Except for you. You at least tried." He returned to addressing the dumbstruck audience.
"He watched through my eyes and helped me in dragon training. And I built the tailfin. Because I needed to fix the worst thing I've ever done. I restored his flight. At the same time, he helped me. I could never be a Viking. But unlike literally everyone else, he didn't care about that! He taught me to run, to use stealth. Things I was actually suited for! When I was selected to kill the Nightmare, I knew I couldn't do it. So I let all the arena dragons free. There's way more, but those are the important parts. I spared a dragon, he spared me, and together we ended the cause of a three-hundred-year war. But I can see none of you really care about that."
The murmurs and hostile glances he was receiving made that very clear. Hiccup continued angrily. "All you hear is 'spared a dragon' and 'released the arena dragons', and ignore the rest, the important parts. So while I hope you can change, I'm not sticking around to find out." He held the ax out in front of Svarturkló. "Consider this me saying 'I'll never be a Viking, and I'm happy with that.' Consider this my formal resignation from the tribe of Berk, or outcasting if you'd rather." He slightly shook the ax.
Svarturkló saw his signal, and let loose with the flame Furies reserved for melting or heating up stone for sleeping on.
The Vikings watched in disbelief as the Fury melted Stoick's ax, turning it from the perfect Viking weapon into a puddle of molten iron on the ground. The process wasn't very fast, but they were spell-bound by the sight of the ax going through an array of colors before liquifying.
After a few moments, when it was over, Hiccup dropped the charred remains of the wooden handle. "And consider that my resignation from the Haddock name. You can have it, I don't want it anymore." This was harder to say, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Let the name of an overly proud line of dragon-killers and chiefs no longer be tarnished by his very existence. He was done being seen as a disappointment, being pushed and prodded to change into a clone of Stoick.
Stoick had watched this with rising fury. He was angrier than he had ever been. When Hiccup had the ax melted, he saw red. But Gobber held him back, seeing that Stoick would be killed instantly by the dragons if he rushed Hiccup. He settled for screaming at Hiccup. "You bet you're outcast! I declare you a traitor to the Hooligan tribe! I disown you! You're dead to me! YOU ARE NOT MY SON!"
Hiccup sighed. "I already did all of that myself. But hey, you're the chief. Not the chief of me, anymore. Goodbye people of Berk and you're welcome for ending the war." He thought of something. "And just a word of warning, Astrid is going insane. Thought that might be good to know." He gave the signal.
Toothless had suggested a diversion that didn't involve fire or claws. It involved a reflex all Vikings had trained since childhood. When one heard a Night Fury, one ducked. It had been so often repeated and so often practiced that it had become instinct. So, when Hiccup gave the signal, Toothless and Svarturkló roared at full volume, facing opposite directions. The pure noise was immense. Most of the Vikings dropped out of pure reflex.
Hiccup had been prepared, and he hopped onto Toothless with no hands, as he was busy covering his ears. He didn't have the reflex, but it was really loud. The roars abruptly cut off as the two dragons took off, flying away from the Nest and the Vikings of Berk as fast as they could.
Hiccup was starting to feel dizzy. They had only been flying for a few minutes, but he didn't think he could hold on anymore. "Toothless, I think I'm going to fall..."
Toothless jerked, then steadied himself. 'Just hold on a little longer, there's a sea stack up ahead.'
The Furies reached the sea stack just in time. Hiccup fell out of the saddle before Toothless had even touched down with all four feet. He crawled to the edge of the sea stack and threw up the raw fish from earlier, along with everything else in his stomach.
As Hiccup was throwing up, Toothless saw a red tint in the hair around a spot on the back of his head. 'Hiccup, I think you hit your head in the crash.'
Hiccup laughed hollowly. The world was still spinning. "That would explain a few things. I get the feeling my little speech might not have made much sense."
Toothless was quick to reassure him. 'No, it did, although you could have made more sense if you had time to think beforehand. It kinda just came out. You hit the main points. Dragons not the enemy, Queen dead, friendship possible, all that. They didn't look like they believed you.'
Hiccup groaned. "Of course not. I didn't expect them to." His dizziness was getting worse. "Can we resume this discussion after I wake up? I think I'm going to faint." He crawled away from the edge of the sea stack.
"Or maybe not?" He tried to stand, and that was when he fainted.
Toothless caught him with his head, and carefully laid Hiccup out on the rock. He licked the head injury a couple times. Then he remembered his mother.
Svarturkló had watched all of this with an extreme amount of confusion. She could hear Toothless's side of the conversation, so it made as much sense as a conversation with a concussed person usually did. What confused her was the fact that the boy had held his end of the conversation, but hadn't understood her. She really wanted answers.
Toothless saw that look and felt his exhaustion all at once. 'Mom, can we save the discussion for later? We all should really be awake for it, and in a second only you will be.'
Svarturkló huffed, frustrated at having to wait even longer. 'Fine. But you better have a really good explanation for all of this.'
Toothless didn't hear her. He was as exhausted as she had been the day before. He had already fallen asleep.
Svarturkló licked the wounds she could reach, both on herself and Toothless, and settled down to sleep. When they all woke up, she would finally find out what in the world was going on.
But at least the Queen was gone.
Author's Note: This marks the end of the second arc. I will clarify something now though. This is not a story involving the trope of 'Hiccup leaves, stays away, comes back and redeems Berk/retakes his "rightful" place', or any of the things that involves. That is one of my less favored plots, and one of the most overused. I can count the number of good executions of this trope on one hand, and Prodigal Son returning from the literary dead less than a two weeks ago does count. Take from this statement what you will, but know that this will not follow that ridiculously overdone trope. We may see components of it, simple pieces, but my story will NOT follow it. I will no longer be predictable by canon either (this will be extremely apparent when in the far future elements of HTTYD 2 come into play). If you see elements of popular tropes in my writing, expect them to be either subverted, mocked subtly, or parts of a larger, unique plot that demanded them.
I had a rant about the specific aforementioned trope here, taking apart why it's both so popular and so unoriginal, but in the end decided it was unnecessarily long for an author's note. If anyone would like to read it, just say so in a review or PM and I can send it to you.
As a side note, this chapter originally did not involve such persistent targeting of the Queen's eyes. I am ashamed to say that it followed canon almost completely once they got into the air. But seeing all the assertions from various sources that I had to be setting up for a different end (and agreeing that I should be), I had a brainstorm Tuesday night and bit the bullet, replacing that scene with my own original Queen-killing strategy, one in which Svarturkló took a much more active role. It felt only fitting to have her end the Queen, especially as it allowed that nice reversal of canon at the very end. So, thank you SuperFanTastico and toothlessgolfer, for pointing out that a canon death of the Queen seemed unlikely. (Oh, and SuperFanTastico? Hiccup was never going to lose his leg here, even in the original scene. I do not, however, make any promises that he'll be keeping it for the rest of his life. Who knows what might happen.)