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Chapter 08: Live to Fly
(Hiccup)
A blue sky was visible again through breaking clouds, which Hiccup tried to avoid as he rode on the dragon's back. He was following the most sunlit path he could find, for his clothes were wet, and the wind cold against them.
His heart still beat unsteadily in his chest, perhaps because, in his hasty flight out of the arena, he had nearly fallen to his death. Even during his last moments on Berk, Hiccup thought, he had almost made a complete fool of himself.
Fortunately, he had managed to stay on Toothless, gaining control of the stirrup just before a deadly plunge into the rocky sea. It had not been easy, as he was not wearing his harness; the makeshift flying-vest was still in Gobber's forge, hidden behind that counter, where Hiccup had tossed it in a hurry. Stupidly, he had forgotten about it, even as he was retrieving his basket. He could no longer go back for it, nor did he feel the need to. With the exception of today's hurried escape, he hardly needed that harness anymore.
Hiccup had likely forgotten other things, but it was no use fretting over it now, so he did not change his course. He simply pointed Toothless straight towards the first deserted island south of Berk.
The islet could be seen from the shores of the village as a faint shape on the horizon, though, high as Hiccup was in the sky, he could make out his first destination much more clearly. Where he was going to go afterwards, he didn't yet know, nor did he have the strength of will to think about it. All Hiccup could do was control the tailfin, and occasionally look back.
The determination he had felt whilst he had first considered leaving his home for his 'little vacation' now seemed but a strange memory. A stranger's memory. The memory of a fool.
Had he really ever expected a happy outcome to this? Could he possibly be so naive? And had he truly been stupid enough to let Astrid run all the way back to the village?
Hiccup could not yet fully fathom the situation he had put himself into. He did however manage to recall what his father had said in the prisons, and his destiny became painfully clear. Back then, his father's words had been all anger and noise, a crazed, mindless warning, but they now sounded clear and hard as polished steel. A promise, heavy as an anvil on his chest:
'If you don't want me to tie you to a mast and sail you off to Thor knows where, to rot till the end of your days, then…' Hiccup did not wish to recall the rest.
If his father had truly meant what he said (and Stoick the Vast always did), then there could be no doubt; Hiccup had surely been banished for life the very instant he had taken off from the arena. He was now an outcast, destined to a lifetime of exile. He could no longer go back, not now that everyone knew about Toothless, not without dooming his friend, and most likely himself too.
And yet, while it did hurt to realize that dreadful fact, what ultimately made Hiccup's gut sink, was the memory of his father's very last shout:
'...if you don't kill that fuckin' beast, you are no longer my son!'
The phrase still echoed heavily in Hiccup's ears, throbbing like a fresh wound.
Being exiled was one thing, but that... that had been a threat of disownment.
To say such a thing had been unexpected would have been an understatement. Even murder was often not enough to grant such punishment. In fact, no one had ever been disowned on Berk in Hiccups' lifetime, though a couple of people had been exiled or killed for their crimes. After all, most Vikings would sooner suffer execution.
Disownment, however, was a punishment that stood on a different level. It was meant to deprive a person of their dignity and pride. Of course, a disowned man was also an exiled man, and an exiled man, this far north, was also a man likely doomed to a slow, pathetic death, a death without honor, without weapons, without the hope of Valhalla.
Trying to reach out for some consolation, Hiccup began to think, to hope, that perhaps he was doing his father a favor by giving him reason to disown him. He was doing the right thing for everyone. Never again would the proud chief of the Hairy Hooligans have to feel humiliated or embarrassed as he faced the other villages, and their relative chiefs, bragging about their strong, muscular sons (and sometimes daughters), valiant, promising leaders of their great tribes. It was going to be much easier for his father to deal with the other chiefs' pity for having no son at all, rather than an incompetent or treacherous one.
Alas, the idea that his father was going to be secretly relieved turned out to be no great source of comfort. In fact, it only made Hiccup feel worse. Perhaps because, deep down, he suspected that it wasn't true, that maybe Stoick still loved him in some unspoken way, as Gobber had suggested.
No.
Hiccup could not bring himself to believe that either.
What loving father talks to his only son like that? He only demands obedience. He'd be better off with a slave than a son!
In the end, Hiccup could find no consolation at any possible thought concerning his father, so he decided never to think about the man again.
Absorbed as he was in that whirlwind of distressing thoughts, Hiccup ignored his friend's warbles of concern, until Toothless turned his head back mid-flight to cast a worried look at him.
"Sorry, bud," Hiccup said, "I just… There. Let's land over there."
They had finally reached Thor Rock.
The tiny island consisted of a single green clearing between two rocky hills, upon which a few sparse trees, molded by the strong winds, fought to keep their roots embedded in the stone and muddy sand. The land's overall shape resembled a crescent, forming a small natural harbor, where a pebbled beach provided temporary shelter for the occasional longships travelling north.
Hiccup and Toothless landed on a smaller plateau, atop one of the two hills, between a wall of boulders and a steep sea-cliff. The grass was somewhat dry up there, the rocks behind them provided shelter from the wind, and the height gave them a broader view of the northern horizon.
Hiccup dismounted and removed the weighty basket from Toothless' back. He also untied the saddle and prosthetic fin, which the dragon had been continuously wearing for the past day. They were both starting to chafe the more tender parts of his leathery skin, where he had fewer scales, and especially the scarred side of his tail.
After untangling the dragon from the straps and buckles, Hiccup found himself not knowing what else to do next. He was at a loss, facing an abrupt, almost unmanageable amount of freedom.
What did an outcast do?
Hiccup felt the sudden urge to keep himself active. He had to do something productive, something that could put off, for as long as possible, the looming feelings threatening to overwhelm him all at once.
To think leaving Berk was actually my first choice, he thought.
But, of course, he knew, leaving his home had always been the only way to protect Toothless. He had simply never truly begun to consider the consequences of being homeless.
Hiccup decided to find some firewood. It was a good way to keep his mind occupied. He was still cold and wet from the previous downpour. He could use a fire.
His eyes spotted a small cluster of mostly lifeless trees, twisted and bent, with barely a leaf upon them. He broke a few of the smaller branches and piled them in his hands.
Toothless came silently to help with the bigger ones. The dragon had gotten used to the human habit of lighting fires to keep warm, and would always offer his help, gathering wood for his human after their winter-flights.
With enough wood gathered, Hiccup began to stack it, surrounding the makeshift fireplace with stones to keep the fire from spreading. He tried to arrange the sticks to form a cone, so they wouldn't lay flat on the ground, but the curvy, deformed wood of those trees made the task slightly more challenging than he had expected. In a sudden fit of frustration, Hiccup kicked the woodpile, scattering the twigs on the grass.
He walked away, unsure of why he had done that. He didn't yell or shout, nor did he respond to Toothless' warbles of concern.
The dragon did not insist. He merely watched as Hiccup walked towards the cliff's rocky edge and sat down, feet dangling dangerously in the precipice.
Hiccup stayed there, trying to prevent his mind from thinking. He tried to focus on the sea, to count its infinite little waves, one by one. When his gaze finally reached the distance, Hiccup saw the silhouette of Berk's familiar mountains, and found he could not ignore his emotions any longer.
The feeling came like the waves below. It was something completely new, something he had never experienced before. It was a quiet, soft kind of panic, creeping slowly inside of him and, almost gently, clutching his heart, like an uncomfortable void between his lungs, a heat that made breathing feel like a difficult chore. It felt as if his organs were being slowly pulled down to his gut. Hiccup wrapped his arms around his stomach, hoping it would cancel out the strange sensation.
He felt deflated, like a punctured soul, but at the same time, somewhere around that emptiness, in his shoulders, in his fingers, he felt cold. All that dreadful mixture, he now knew, sprouted from a simple realization: His life was never going to be the same again.
It was the finality of it that made everything so much worse. And yet it felt different from the time his mother had died, possibly because he had been younger then, though he couldn't really say. The only thing Hiccup knew for sure was that, had Toothless not been there with him, a few paces from his back, letting out the occasional soft draconic noise, the sea-beaten rocks below his feet would have looked disturbingly more appealing.
Hiccup tried not to look down. Instead, he kept his eyes firmly on the horizon, staring as the setting sun began to shower Berk with its warm colors. He sighed and shook his head, but found himself focusing again on the island's hazy shadow, searching for temporary solace in the memories of that place, discovering a newfound fondness for it.
On the island of Berk, despite his difficult relationship with his father, or with most of the other villagers, and even despite the regular dragon raids, Hiccup had still always felt protected, sheltered, something that only yesterday had not seemed so important. His life on the island might not have been particularly fulfilling for the most part, but it had been safe, and normal. On Berk, there was always someone who could take care of him, who could right his blunders, someone who could listen to him, advise him even, however callously.
Now, Hiccup had lost the only place he could return to, the only place where he would be fed or clothed, no matter what. Everything had changed that morning. How was he going to survive? Hiccup had no experience of living in the wilderness beside his brief escapades at the cove. He was no real Viking, and today even those who had begun having hopes for him knew the truth of it.
The people in the village might have disliked or pitied him before his false achievements in dragon-training, but now, with the exclusion of Gobber, they surely hated him. Even his father. Even Astrid.
Especially Astrid.
He could not go back anymore, he was an outcast and a traitor; they had the law-sanctioned right to kill him on sight if he returned. And the gods only knew what they would do to Toothless.
Hiccup couldn't let himself think about that. He knew he had to move on; he had secretly known since the day of his first flight on the Night Fury's back, the day that he would always remember as the happiest of his life.
Still, the emptiness he now felt, and the magnitude of this change ultimately overwhelmed him.
His stomach tied in a heavy knot, Hiccup tried to stifle the painful sobs cramping his chest, yet he could not hold back the tears that silently wet his lips as he stared north, towards Berk, the place he could no longer call home.
Hiccup woke up slowly, enveloped in warm darkness. He did not remember falling asleep, nor did he remember Toothless dragging him away from the dangerous edge of the cliff.
He realized he was resting within the Night Fury's embrace, wrapped by the dragon's wings, with one paw for a pillow and the other three tied in firm hug around him. It was the first time he had slept like that. Hiccup had rarely slept with the dragon before, and on those few occasions, he had only taken short naps using Toothless' side to support his head.
Being cocooned inside those black wings was surprisingly pleasant. He felt warm, shielded from the outside world, and lulled by the steady drumming of the dragon's powerful heart and the sound of his lungs. Hiccup felt a surge of gratitude towards the Night Fury for the affectionate gesture; a kind of gesture he had not often seeked in his recent life, but that he very much needed now.
With his eyes still closed, Hiccup carefully shifted his position, and pressed his cheek on Toothless' large chest. It was his own small way to thank the dragon, but also a better way to hear the soothing heartbeat beneath the warm scales.
I still have Toothless, Hiccup thought.
Following the previous day's misery, the notion came almost as a shock, even though it shouldn't have. Hiccup had nearly forgotten about him, despite the fact that everything he had done had been for the dragon's sake, and, in a way, he had even accomplished his purpose. Perhaps he had only needed some sleep. He hadn't had a proper rest in two days.
Toothless stirred, and finally woke up as well. He lifted his wing, hoping to check on his rider, and flooding Hiccup with light in the process.
"Oh gods…" Hiccup complained, shielding his eyes as he got up.
It wasn't morning yet, but the dragon's wings provided a surprisingly deep darkness in comparison.
"Morning, bud," Hiccup said when he got used to the early light.
Toothless responded with a long, soft purr.
The sun was still below the horizon. A faint pink-blue haze coated every bit of landscape, even the sea, which was so calm, it almost perfectly mirrored the sky's colors, along with some of its brightest stars.
When the dragon's warmth evaporated from Hiccup's still damp clothes, the morning chill seeped rapidly inside of him, replacing the previous fuzzy comfort with shivers, alongside some of the emotions that had tormented him the previous day.
Once outside his friend's embrace, Hiccup could not help feeling exposed again to the harsh reality of his situation. Though it wasn't as bad as before, he knew coping with his departure into exile was not going to be an easy task.
Astrid was probably right: I am a spoiled crybaby after all.
Hiccup moved away from the makeshift camp, telling Toothless to wait there, then walked down a few rocks, in search for a more private place where to relieve himself. When he got back, his shivering had intensified, so, with the dragon's help, Hiccup lit the fire he had failed to make the previous day. He then sat by it, hoping to dry the lingering moisture from his clothes. As he did so, he resumed gazing towards Berk's misty profile in the distance. It didn't feel quite right to turn around yet.
When the sun emerged from under the sea, shyly declaring the beginning of the day, Hiccup's belly began to grumble. Toothless promptly rose, his pointy ears standing up, alarmed by the unfamiliar growls.
"It's just my stomach, bud," Hiccup explained, smiling. "It's been a day since I ate anything. Nothing to worry about."
Toothless produced a low, worried warble.
"It's all right. I'm not really hungry."
The dragon barked once, snapping his teeth.
"I mean it. I'm fine," Hiccup said, but Toothless' nostrils puffed warm smoke onto his face. Then, the pouting Night Fury hobbled away.
Hiccup coughed, but otherwise ignored his friend for a while, until the clattering noises behind him forced him to abandon his distant brooding.
Toothless had opened Gobber's basket, spilling all the contents on the grass. He was sniffing at each object.
"What are you doing?"
When the dragon found what he was searching for, he picked it up with his teeth and carried it to him. It was a cloth-wrapped bundle, tied with a piece of string.
"What's this?" Hiccup asked as he undid the knot and opened the bundle, revealing a dozen slivers of dried yak meat. Hiccup hadn't put any food in his basket, so this had to be one of Gobber's additions. Nonetheless, Hiccup's stomach was still too tightly clenched for eating.
"I told you, I'm not really hungry. You can have it if you want."
Toothless growled in response. It wasn't an angry snarl by any means, but there was an obvious lack of patience in it.
"Fine," Hiccup muttered unhappily. He took a bite of the dried meat, chewing with an effort.
That particularly fine batch had been cured with spices. It was still tough, but not as tasteless as the common stuff, and when Hiccup's tongue realized this, his latent appetite emerged in full, and he attacked the small supply.
He even offered a slice to his friend, who didn't seem quite able to make up his mind on whether he liked the treat or not. He kept chewing for a while, presenting Hiccup with first a bemused look, then a completely disorientated one.
When Toothless swallowed, he stared at his rider with utter astonishment and condemnation.
'How can you eat this stuff?!' He seemed to be asking.
Hiccup laughed. It was a small but liberating laugh, fueled by the Night Fury's warbles of disapproval.
Before long, Hiccup's stomach was appeased, his clothes were as dry as they were going to get, and he was sighing with mirth at the dragon's expressions. All of a sudden, all his problems appeared much more manageable. Hiccup brushed a grateful hand on the dragon's head.
"Is it completely crazy of me to realize, after all that has happened, how lucky I still am for having you?"
Toothless merely blinked in response. He nuzzled Hiccup's palm with his snout. Then, he turned away, and began to casually lick his paw.
Hiccup followed the movement, noticing a shallow, yet still bleeding cut on the dragon's forepaw. Toothless was cleaning it.
"Where did you get that?" Hiccup asked, and found he already knew the answer; it had been Astrid's axe, which she had thrown at Toothless in the cove. The dragon had parried the weapon, but he hadn't walked away unscathed by the girl's flawless throw.
"I'm sorry," Hiccup said. Though it hadn't been his fault, he considered himself responsible for Astrid's actions, partly because he still felt like defending the blonde girl, despite everything she had done.
"I wish she wasn't so impulsive. Does it hurt?"
Toothless huffed nonchalantly, an almost perfect draconic translation of the sentiment: 'What? This? This is nothing.'
Hiccup still walked to the open basket, and looked for any healing supplies. He hadn't packed much, but he was glad to find that Gobber had been much more provident than he had, his former basket being a lot emptier than this one.
Hiccup found the boiled bandages inside a leather satchel, and also one small, wooden box, containing about a spoonful of salve. He smelled it, and recognized it as Gothi's elder-leaf and yarrow ointment. Hiccup returned to the dragon.
"Here, let me see."
Toothless pulled back his paw.
"Come on, this will make sure the wound doesn't go bad."
Toothless warbled in response.
"Please? Just let me…" Hiccup sat in front of the dragon, who did not resist when his rider lifted the heavy paw with his hands, and placed it upon his crossed legs to examine it.
Hiccup was relatively used to seeing small wounds up close, though mostly on himself. For some odd reason, it was more disturbing when the wound was on someone else. Nonetheless, he applied the precious ointment along the cut, then wrapped a long piece of bandage tightly around it.
"It's just the two of us, bud. You're all I've got now," Hiccup said as he tried to tie the bandage. He remembered to make a cut alongside the last strip, tie one knot, and then wrap one part around from the other side, to make a final knot with the remaining strand.
He had seen Gothi do it a few times, of course, but Hiccup only remembered how it was properly done because of Gobber, who had often bandaged Hiccup's not infrequent injuries at the forge. The blacksmith would always leave the final knot to Hiccup, since, with only one hand, he could hardly make it himself.
"There," Hiccup said when he was done, and the dragon promptly repaid him by brushing a wet tongue on his face. Hiccup wasn't given enough time to dodge; he could only shut his eyes and mouth. He then wiped the saliva away with his sleeves.
"No, no, thank you," he muttered, trying to sound annoyed. He could never truly get used to being washed with dragon slobber, though he couldn't help but smile every time.
Toothless rose and began hopping around their rudimentary camp, before he assumed his usual 'time to fly' stance, with his shoulders bowed and his rump raised upwards. He flicked his wings expectantly.
Hiccup considered it, trying to reassess his feelings. Soon enough, his mind was made up. It was time to go. It was time to leave the hazy silhouette of Berk behind, and find a place of their own, some warmer island in the south, where they could fly all day and discover new lands, safe from axes, and bolas, and angry Vikings.
Hoping such place existed somewhere in the world, waiting for them, Hiccup refilled Gobber's basket, found the improved tailfin, and stored the spare one. He equipped Toothless with the better prosthetic, then the saddle and basket. Finally, he mounted too.
Hiccup patted the dragon's side twice. "Ready?" He asked, after directing a final wistful look towards Berk, certain that it was going to be his last.
Toothless barked enthusiastically.
"Let's go, bud."
With tenuously renewed hope, they took to the skies, climbing higher and higher with each beat of the Night Fury's powerful wings, leaving even the clouds behind, until there was only the sun and moon above them.
Both celebrated their freedom with a liberating cry into the cold winds. Hiccup did not care how childish his voice still sounded for his age. There was no reason to fret over such things anymore. He was an outcast now.
When they soared to a new, ear-popping height, Toothless looked back teasingly. Hiccup knew what was coming, and gladly braced himself. He hugged the dragon's scaly neck, and closed his eyes, before the earth's pull was suddenly no more.
Toothless dove, falling and twisting, spiraling and turning, performing all kinds of insane stunts, telling the world the air was his domain, and now a human's too.
When Hiccup reopened his eyes, he saw only sky, then sea, then sky again, and clouds, and the blinding sun, or the pale moon. And then frothy waves, like an army of sheep below… or was it above them?
There was no more up or down. The horizon was spinning uncontrollably, but Hiccup felt no fear. He embraced his friend, and he finally knew that he was born for this. He was born to be in the skies, like a dragon. And so, like a dragon, he was going to live, and fly, and be free.
END OF ACT I
AN: I know, I know. This chapter was a bit cheesy, perhaps because it contains the very paragraph that, about a year ago, made me decide to write this, my first and only fanfiction. This is where this story truly began for me, and this is where the adventure begins for Hiccup.
Don't forget to leave a comment if you've found any mistakes or inconsistencies, or even to tell me what you think of the story so far. All feedback is appreciated.
Thanks for reading!
