3: Reset
"AGAIN!" Hiccup snapped, panting hard, sweat trailing over his flushed face. Astrid backed up, also breathing hard, her axe raised.
"You're exhausted," she argued. He growled and lunged at her, forcing her to defend herself urgently as his sword clanged over and over against the blade of her axe.
"You don't get stronger by resting!" he growled at her. His voice still wasn't back to normal but the moment he had been allowed from the house he had gone flying on Toothless-and then started practising with the sword. She could read the pain from his half-healed wounds in the shadows under his eyes but he refused to listen to any protests and had pushed himself harder than any of them. Astrid backed away, seeing him lunge again before spinning and slamming him back with her axe. She was astonishingly strong for a woman and she could match him for strength-but he was stronger than his lean shape suggested, from years hanging onto a Night Fury in a thousand crazy stunts and working in a forge. But she could see that certain movements hurt him and because she cared for him, she wouldn't cause him pain. So she went easy on him-and that just seemed to anger him. He threw his sword down.
"You have to fight me!" he shouted at her and she blinked, lowering her axe.
"Excuse me?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. He glared at her.
"You don't have to treat me like some pathetic loser!" he snarled.
"Ha! As if!" Snotlout said too loudly and Hiccup turned on him furiously. He marched up to the shorter, stockier young man, his blazing emerald gaze boring into the shocked face.
"You have something to say, Snotlout?" he growled, the fading bruises across his throat moving as he breathed hard. Snotlout paused-and then his eyes narrowed in unjustified superiority.
"Yeah," he said unwisely. "I mean, would a proper Viking warrior be so easily captured by five different people?" Hiccup stiffened and glared.
"Get out of my sight," he hissed. "I'm sending you back to the Edge!"
"Hey," Snotlout protested. "I want to spend some time with my family and…"
"Back. To. The. Edge!" Hiccup roared and Snotlout backed up, his eyes shocked and drifting to his fellow riders for support. Astrid stared across them, reading uncertainty and hurt. And fear, she realised. This wasn't their friend, the Hiccup they knew. So she lowered her axe and walked calmly towards him.
"Hiccup?" she began but he turned on her.
"When I ask to spar, I expected you to take it seriously!" he accused her sharply. "I know I need to improve-or I will remain a liability…"
"You're not a liability," she assured him but he took an abrupt step towards her and she found herself almost backing up a pace. When did he get so intimidating? she asked herself.
"Now who's lying?" he sneered. "I need honesty off you, Astrid. And I need your help." She nodded.
"You know-I would do anything," she assured him, her expression gentler. He closed his eyes for a second.
"Take them all back to the Edge," he said firmly. "Check the defences and make sure all the watch towers are in good order. I don't want the Hunters to wreck our base while we're here." She looked into his face, the bruises fading but still obvious and the thick collar of bruising across his throat still purple and hard.
"Are you sure?" she asked him gently but his face fell into a scowl.
"Why-you think I can't make my own mind up?" he asked her sarcastically. But it wasn't his normal good-humoured sarcasm: this was bitter and pointed directly at her. And she found herself wilting a little under his scornful glare.
"Well, of course not, but I-I thought…" she murmured, taken aback. He stared at her for a long moment, then turned away.
"I know my own mind, Astrid, and when I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed," he told her coldly. She stiffened and she was sure he heard her angry breath.
"Yes, sir," she growled and spun away, her furious steps rapidly receding. He turned back to stare at her, almost on the verge of calling out to her-but he caught himself and watched the other Riders look at him, then slink off, a range of disappointed disapproving or just disgusted looks shooting at him. He was breathing hard as he watched the last one disappear-and only then did he bend forward, his hand rising to clutch his left shoulder. The wound from the knife was still far too fresh and Gothi had told him that he shouldn't be using his left arm for anything-which he had studiously ignored. He couldn't use an axe or a mace with any conviction anyway-but did have some skill with a sword-especially his Inferno sword, which Heather had found on the island where he had been handed over to Ryker. But it hadn't spared him one second of his ordeals-so it clearly wasn't good enough.
"Far be it from me to make any comment," a familiar voice boomed from the entrance, causing Hiccup to flinch and turn with a muted hiss of pain. Stoick entered, his face thoughtful and eyes inspecting the lean and still battered shape of his son.
"But you will anyway," Hiccup muttered, not quite under his breath. Giving no sign he had heard, the big Chief stopped by his son, staring down into the bruised face. Hiccup just reached his shoulder and was about a quarter of his father's width but he was fully his equal in bone-headed stubbornness-as Stoick had previously found to his cost.
"Your friends are an odd group," the Chief pointed out thoughtfully, watching Hiccup's reactions and his rebellious green eyes. His hand had dropped away from his painful shoulder the moment he heard his father's voice and Stoick had sighed: that was an astonishingly Hiccup reaction. The boy never admitted to anything, no matter how ill or hurt he was, which made Stoick's job as a father infinitely harder. "And they certainly don't respond like normal Vikings…"
"Which is why we keep getting our asses kicked!" Hiccup told him bitterly. "They don't follow orders, they mess around when I need them on point and they would rather lie in the hot springs than run patrols."
"Who wouldn't?" Stoick commented. "But my point is-they follow you by consent, son. You aren't a general or a Chief. They are your friends. And they work…in a way."
"Not well enough!" Hiccup argued. "And we haven't stopped the Hunters and Viggo! Instead, they keep winning!"
"Son-you did enough for him to want to remove you…permanently," he pointed out and Hiccup's brows dipped in a scowl.
"I lost Berk's gold!" he argued. "I let Dagur get killed…"
"Son…" Stoick's face dropped in shock: this wasn't something he had heard of before. He knew the two men had a difficult and complicated relationship, that Hiccup both hated and pitied Dagur, that he had been tormented by Dagur as a child and had visited the Berserker in his captivity on Outcast Island. And he had told Stoick that Dagur had let Heather go and saved her life because she was his sister-even though she hated Dagur. But he hadn't told his father that Dagur had died…and saving the Riders, by the sound of it. Hiccup shook his head.
"And they took me without much resistance!" he said angrily. "But I can't let that happen again. I have to be more ruthless-more like you. I need to learn how to fight. I need you help me with the sword-and Spitelout as well." The Chief pulled a face. His half-brother wasn't the sharpest axe in the armoury and was an abysmal instructor-but he did have some weapons skills and wouldn't deliberately kill Hiccup.
"Son-just be careful," he counselled. "You are nowhere near healed-and if you do too much, you will permanently disable yourself."
"What, you mean more?" Hiccup asked sarcastically. "Can't have a son with half a leg and a gimpy arm, eh, Dad?" Stoick stared into his face.
"Hiccup, make sure what you are doing is for the right reasons," the Chief told him quietly. "I understand you are shaken by your ordeal. I can appreciate you want to make yourself stronger so no one can take you as easily again. I recognise your need to become a more efficient and effective leader. I realise you want to make Viggo fear you and turn the tide of defeats." His voice dropped. "Just make sure this isn't just about revenge."
Hiccup's eyes narrowed. "Really, Dad? You try that line on me?" he scoffed. "What about all those searches for the Nest?" Stoick scowled at him.
"I was seeking to stop the raids and protect my people," he said stiffly.
"So am I," Hiccup replied shortly, reaching down and retrieving his sword. He looked up-into a deeply cynical expression. "Just tell me none of those searches that cost so many lives and ships was about revenge, Dad-and I'll go back to being the weak, useless, pathetic son who got dragged off by half a dozen bounty hunters…" Stoick looked appalled-and deeply guilty. "Precisely what I thought!" he said snarkily. Then he stared into his father's eyes. "So will you help me, Dad?"
Stoick nodded dumbly.
"I will always do everything I can for you, son," he breathed. Hiccup tossed him a sword.
"Then let's get started!" he said.
oOo
"Great Beyond," Snotlout grumbled as they approached the Edge after a long flight. "What's so great about it? We left here expecting to see Stoick kick Hiccup's ass over losing the gold and having a laugh about that bounty…"
"Yeah-and no one has even tried to capture us," Tuff grumbled.
"And we were offering twice the reward than for Hiccup-and our picture was far better!" Ruff added.
"And instead he turns into Captain Tyrant and sends us back while he has a nice cosy recuperation back on Berk!" Snotlout completed. Astrid rolled her eyes as Hookfang huffed and growled.
"Guys-he was badly beaten up and knifed by Ryker," she reminded them. "He's not allowed to fly back yet." She scowled at the rebellious trio. "But for the record, he's right! We shouldn't leave the Edge undefended for so long."
"But Smidvarg and the gang…" Tuff began.
"Tuffnut-they don't really keep guard that well ever since you had them playing 'statues' the moment they perch on the lookout posts!" Heather pointed out.
"It's fun," Ruff argued. "I mean you can throw anything at them-and they don't move at all!"
"And they're really not much use as lookouts if they don't react to anything, let alone a threat!" Fishlegs added.
"Again, it's fun," Tuff argued. "The chicken was very amused…"
"Enough!" Astrid growled. "When we get back, we'll need to check the base, run a perimeter patrol and make any repairs…"
"Aww, Astrid, babe-you don't wanna do that," Snotlout whined. "After all this stress, with Captain Tyrant and the long flight, we'll need to rest and…"
"Snotlout, for the millionth and final time, I am NOT your babe," the blonde growled. "Now, what I actually wanna do is axe several parts of Snotlout off so there will be no more Snotlouts-ever…" She paused and stole a glance at the suddenly pale Jorgensen. "But I may decide not to do what I want if you all do what I suggest! Agreed?"
"Agreed," came the rebellious mumbles. Astrid soared up, patting Stormfly's neck as Heather pulled Windshear alongside.
"Is he okay?" the raven-haired girl asked, not referring to Snotlout. Astrid sighed.
"I don't know," she admitted slowly. "He seems harder, angrier than I have ever seen him. He won't be back for a couple of weeks-so maybe he'll have worked through it during that time?" Heather's expression was anything but reassuring.
"You know Hiccup better than I do," she replied after a moment. "But we both know how stubborn he is. And if he gets his mind set on something, he never gives up." Astrid gave a small smile.
"Like that ridiculous DragonFly of his," he added. Heather frowned. "His gliding suit." She rolled her eyes.
"You never told me when he developed it," she said and Astrid smiled.
"Then prepare to be astonished by the tale of how the smartest man on Berk kept jumping off a cliff…and plunging to his doom…" she began.
oOo
Gobber was worried when he found Hiccup had pulled his third all-nighter in a row, because he knew his sometime apprentice and friend was capable of incredible obsession and stubbornness-even when he desperately needed his rest. But Hiccup had merely smiled, his gaunt, ashen face focussed on the armour he was making. And Gods help him, it was like nothing the boy had ever made before. Gobber had liked Hiccup's armour, the beautiful woven tunic and personalised epaulettes, every detail perfect, functional but beautiful. Yet what he was making was functional and very much more menacing.
Hiccup stared at his new armour. He still had the remains of his old and he could just have repaired it-but it wasn't what he needed any more. He needed to be stronger-and he needed armour that would protect him from knives and fists, that would help him. He couldn't just be the boy in the red tunic any more. So he had stained the leather black and created a thick cuirass to cover his torso which he had reinforced with a fine mesh of Gronckle iron. Large black leather pauldrons were marked with the stylised Night Fury he had decorated on his old armour and studded for extra protection. Vambraces and rerebraces of black leather fitted with buckles were designed to protect his arms and he had made cuisses for his upper legs, the right holding a sheath for Inferno while the left had a sheath for a dagger. Finally, he had made himself a Gronckle-iron reinforced gorget to prevent anyone crushing his throat as that masked Viking had done. Pausing, his hand tenderly drifted over the still hard swelling and he grimaced. His voice was recovering but he could still feel the tug on the chain, hauling him along like a beast. His brows dipped in a scowl.
Never again.
"That's mighty smart armour," Gobber commented. "Looks heavy…" Green eyes flicked up in annoyance as he trailed his hand over the material he had prepared for the last item in his new armour. He lifted a hammer to start hammering studs into the leather.
"Are you suggesting I'm not strong enough to wear it?" he asked sharply but Gobber shook his head, completely oblivious to the irritation in his tone or the flicker of uncertainty.
"It looks pretty bulky-so it may get in yer way when yer flying that lizard o' yours," Gobber commented, ambling into the forge and carelessly turning parts of the armour over with no regard for any order Hiccup had his things in. "And doesn't look too easy to run in." He eyed his assistant up. "Yer pretty agile, Hiccup. This will take that away."
The hammer hit the surface hard as he dropped it. "Isn't that what everyone wants?" Hiccup asked sarcastically. "To stop being all of…this?" He gestured to himself and frowned. Gobber looked genuinely surprised.
"Mebbe when yer was that scrawny boy-before ye met Toothless," he pointed out. "But once ye saved the island, Hiccup, we recognised that we needed more of…this…" He gestured to the defensive shape standing before him. Hiccup scowled.
"I don't," he argued. "So far, all it's done has led me to being captured over and over, to losing over and over, to failing over and over!" Gobber stared at the young man, his face twisted in a scowl. "I've lost DragonEye, I've lost Berk's gold, I've lost Dagur! And then…I lost me! It's not good enough!"
"But what have ye gained, laddie?" Gobber asked, shocked. "Ye gained Toothless, yer friends, Astrid, adventure, respect…" Suddenly, Hiccup turned away, staring at the work bench.
"Not enough," he sighed, for a moment sounding like himself. "I can't keep failing Dad. I can't keep needing rescuing and causing harm to Berk. I can't be the man who ruined Berk!"
"And what about ruining you?" Gobber asked him softly. He gave a grim smile and moved his left leg slightly, the metal clicking softly.
"Hey-you know how much I am willing to give if needed," he murmured. "Don't worry about me, old man. I'll be okay." Then he turned back to his work. But Gobber watched him work, seeing him flinch a little as he hammered studs into place to fix the pieces of leather together. Gothi had tackled the blacksmith to try to speak to Hiccup but Gobber knew that would do no good. Hiccup was stubborn as a rock and if even Stoick couldn't make him rest and heal, then there was no hope that Gobber would succeed.
He glanced back at the lean shape, bruises still obvious on his pale face and sighed. I just hope ye know what yer doing, laddie, he thought worriedly. And I hope that lass of yours can stop yer going too far.