How to Train Your Dragon and all characters associated do not belong to Travis Church.
Act 2
Hiccup awoke from a dreamless sleep. He thought it was one in the afternoon but his clock proclaimed seven at night. The sky was dimly lit by the last remnants of the sun as it was surrounded by the navy coverings of the moon.
He carefully walked downstairs and found his father not at the dining room table but in his place was a pot of beef stew. He knew that his father would be called back to work late sometimes. Hiccup and Stoic eventually got past the vocal apologies and instead Stoic would cook dinner and leave it there while Hiccup only expected it to happen. They moved on and the emptiness that the other would leave at the dinner table no longer stung but instead offered a soothing balm to the awkwardness between them.
On days like this, when the warm air kissed the skin with its sweet fire, Hiccup would walk outside and watch the colors of the sky fade away and gaze at the stars grow.
He took a bowl and filled it with the hearty soup and walked outside into the nighttime heat.
He wandered around the property and somehow walked close to the barn. His great-great-grandfather built it with his own two hands and it still stands today. He walked inside and the smells of hay and aged wood brought him to a state of bliss. But there was an undertone of sweat in the air. A slight ruffling of hay echoed throughout and he approached the noise.
In the corner was a ragged man ruffling with a pile of hay and a flimsy blanket.
It was Toothless and when he caught sight of Hiccup, he became extremely afraid.
"I'm sorry!" Toothless screamed, "Please don't-"
"It's okay," Hiccup looked at him dumbly. "Why aren't you at your house?"
There was a pause, "I never got one," he replied grimly.
"Can't you stay with someone, like a friend?"
"I never got one."
Hiccup raised an eyebrow at his declaration.
"War changes things you know?" Toothless asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes. "You get separated from the people you are close with and then you try to get close with strangers and they just shoot you down. They're strangers and you're a stranger to them. They don't want strangers; they want people who they know already. It takes too long to make a friend and in war a person can disappear in a second.
Toothless sighed, "A man can only try so many times before he gives up. Then you separate yourself. After that..." The sentence dangled helplessly as he looked far away into the distance, for a meaning perhaps.
Hiccup carefully sat down, right across from Toothless, and gave him his bowl of stew.
"No no no, I couldn't." Toothless said but his stomach roared in protest.
Hiccup handed him the bowl and watched in peaceful silence as he set the wooden bowl to his lips and drank the hearty soup.
Toothless did not swallow the stew like the breakfast; he took his precious time to absorb the delicious fire into his soul. Then he set down the bowl and looked at Hiccup in question. He pushed the bowl into the space that separated them.
"No, you can have it," he refused his offer. "You need it."
But Toothless had no response, continuing to offer the bowl by inching it even closer to him.
Hiccup took the stew and sipped from the brim, taking in the beautiful heat that passed his lips. He put down the bowl and pushed it back to Toothless and asked, "Do you need a house?"
Toothless only looked at the floating pieces of meat and vegetables before saying, "Any man could have a house but a real man, he needs a home."
Hiccup watched in awe of this person as he took the bowl and sipped the warmth it gave. He needed so much; so much care, so much help, so much time to mend. How do you fix a broken person?
But something in the back of his mind asked him, "How does a person break?"
Hiccup looked at the man in front of him was war weathered, a Dragon D'Alacala, and a loser…He lost. Is that how a person breaks? But the bird perched itself on his shoulder and sang softly a melody that inquired, "When did he break?" Was it when he lost? Was it when he became a Dragon? Was it during the war? Or was when war was unleashed? Did he slowly wilt into this person or did he snap into this deformed shape?
Hiccup felt something for this person.
"Thank you," Toothless whispered under his voice. Hiccup was called to the man and he saw that the bowl was empty, save for a few droplets of soup.
Hiccup felt a deep need for this person.
Toothless placed the bowl in the space that separated them.
Hiccup felt something…
Toothless looked with his beryl eyes and into his emerald eyes with a blank stare. Underneath that neutrality was the light glimmer of appreciation, of gratitude, of connection.
"Please stay for the night. I'll get you a-"
"No!" Those eyes took a shade of fear, "I can't get caught outside the-"
"You won't get caught." He put his hand on Toothless's knee. "I promise."
Toothless looked around anxiously as if his life were in danger, which it probably was.
"I'll get a pillow and more stew." He left the man, feeling the atmosphere change into something sharper and dense.
Toothless sat there in fear, a never ending whirlwind of anxiety that only grew with time. It weathered against the thin faith in the young man that he now serves. It broke apart pieces of the hope that Hiccup would not go to the police or the military to come arrest him. He had a few options to escape the tempest that was slowly emerging in his soul. He could run, leave the barn, escape; but where to go? These forests were foreign to him and he would surely get lost. Or he could stay and face the dangers of what is about to come next.
He stayed and prepared to accept his awful fate.
The barn door creaked open and Hiccup entered while carefully cradling a pillow in his arms and an object wrapped in a blue blanket. He set down the object and sat down where he was previously. Hiccup handed the pillow to Toothless and he tested its fluffiness by squeezing it his hands. He was pleased and gave the cushion a cautious hug.
Toothless watched the young man unwrap the unknown package and immediately smelled more of the stew he had before. Before him was a metal pot, Hiccup opened the lid and out sprang clouds of hot steam and moist air. He salivated at the sight and watched in eagerness as Hiccup ladled spoonfuls of the stew into the wooden bowl that he forgot to take with him.
Hiccup handed the offering to Toothless, who gladly took it in his hands. He was surprised by Toothless's hands; they were so soft but they were so cold. His hands lingered in the air as Toothless embraced the soup in his own and brought the food to his lips. His own hands were possibly as soft but they were nowhere near as cold. Does war change the mind and soul as well as the body?
The atmosphere softened into blissful warmth: Christmas by the fireplace, in the kitchen with grandparents, or on the porch in autumn. There was something that lingered around the two as they sat together in the in contentment of each other.
When Toothless put down the half empty bowl in his lap, Hiccup asked, "When are you going to start work?"
"Tomorrow," he bluntly stated.
"What will you do?"
"Herd sheep, dig out rocks, remove tree stumps. The works."
"What are you paid?"
Toothless thought momentarily before responding robotically, "We're not allowed to get paid more than half the minimum wage per hour."
"The minimum wage is twenty two cents here."
"Then I guess I'll get eleven cents an hour."
"That's not enough for a day's worth of food."
"I'll get by."
"Bus fare's a cent."
"I'll get by," the Dragon said with more force.
"A shirt's five cents."
"I'll get by."
"The doc charges eight cents for a visit."
"I'll get by."
"Stationery is-"
"I'll get by!" Toothless shouted catching Hiccup off guard. "I don't need shiny cars, fancy hats, or toys! I have a debt to pay and I won't be a man until I'm debt free. So don't give me your sympathies or your condolences or anything. I don't need anything else. A man's worth what men think he's worth. I've got debt so what does that make me? A nobody or a negative person? I'll get by, I just need…" The sentence hung in the air, broken in a million ways, and evaporated into a thick haze of self-loathing.
Hiccup stared in silence before he got up from his seat. He wanted to be alone; alone from the world and its unfortunate servants.
Long after Hiccup returned to the house Stoic returned from the factory. The moon shone its pale colors and Toothless decided walk into the neighboring forest.
No one was awake, no one was afraid, no one would know; no one but him.
Toothless walked in a straight line through the forest until he reached a stream of water, reflecting the night sky in its natural reflection.
He untied his shoes and stepped his feet into the icy water. The feel was so surprising, like a set of needles pricking his skin, but he enjoyed the feel. He forgot what it was like to feel, feel anything. The light pain was refreshing after being deprived of interaction, of community, of home.
He looked himself in the water and felt a twinge of guilt for the young man. He should have not snapped at him, there was no reason at all, but it felt so good to be angry! Angry at someone for his misfortunes, his new life, his servitude; Gods knew how refreshing it was.
But the anger hurt and bruised his soul; looking into the water, he seemed so different. The bags under his eyes, the light frown that curved at his lips, the lack of energy; it was all so different from what he was before the war.
Looking deeper into the reflection of his eyes, he saw that young man lingering in the fog of his eyes. It was so reminiscent of Hiccup: the air of defeat, the feel of looking in when you are outside, the sound of concern and fear laced behind every word. Hiccup wanted to protect him…
It shouldn't be that way…
He took off from the midnight creek and memories of war played in his mind. The thrill of close combat, the rush of the chase, the ecstasy of being in the charge, the honor of receiving a dying soldier's final words, the glory of leading men to victory despite the fallen commander. He was decorated, respected, valued, and remembered.
But he whispered, "I should be protecting him; I'm stronger, older, faster, more experienced; I should be protecting him!" He shouted into the night sky and rammed a fist into a nearby tree.
He bled and oh how wonderful it felt to be in pain. That his soul and mind were connected to his body and he could still feel something other than pity and fear.
He resumed his exit from the woods and found the barn that he called home. "But how can I protect him when I can't protect myself?"
He looked to a small plot of blue flowers and watched them dance with a light breeze.
"And the meek shall inherit the Earth," he whispered as entered the barn to sleep.
Toothless awoke very early in the morning, before the sun peaked over the horizon, as his body was tickled by the cold air. He stretched his arms and gave a soundless yawn before realizing where he was. His bags, his things, he himself was still in the barn; and if Stoic Haddock found out that he was hiding in his property past government curfew then he could be punished. Severely.
He grabbed his things and ran back into the forest. He stumbled around looking for a place to hide his belongings.
A tiny glade with a cave nestled by a large fishpond sat about fifteen minutes from the barn, which would be about twenty minutes from the Haddock house. He concealed his things inside the little cave and covered it with some large tree branches that fell to the Earth.
He had time to rest until he had to begin the first day of his many labors.
Walking over to the pool, he asked himself if this was what he wanted. Chained by laws? Imprisoned by debt? Held by a weakling and his father?
He could run, he might make it to the next town, or even stay in the deepest part of these woods. But someone would look for him and…
It was too much to think about. Toothless just stood there looking at his own contorted reflection and waited for the right time.