"No! No! No!"
"Dad, please listen."
"No! Absolutely not, I forbid it!"
"Dad, please!" I plead.
Back home, I had been waiting anxiously for my father to come home. I had just told him everything. And this is how he answers. Thankfully I have Skullette come home with me, or else I would' never have told him in the first place.
"Hiccup, I'm trying to protect you from Alvin, and you want to go out and join the fight?!"
"Yes! Honestly I thought you'd be happy for me. Wanting to fight alongside my dad, in the war, fighting."
"Normally I would be, if I weren't about you. Putting you on that field is like putting a target right on your chest."
"That's why I need training. I could work with Gobber and Skullette. And even Astrid. They can teach me and I could even do some aerial attacks with Toothless." I persuade.
"Look, Hiccup, I'm speaking as your father not as your chief, and you have to understand why I'm doing this. I just don't want to lose another one of my family to him." He speaks as he puts his hand on my shoulder.
I fully understand the point my dad's trying to make, and normally this gesture and signal of love for me would move me to tears, but my drive to take Alvin down sways my decision.
"Look, dad, I know how against this you are and how you're just trying to protect me. But in a way, this is my fight with Alvin. Shouldn't I be the one to end it? What better way than to prove fighting, on the front lines alongside you? Father and son. Not to mention I would look incredibly weak if I had let someone else protect me." I say. My dad ponders on this thought. "Dad, I feel like I have to do this. This is my fight. I can't just sit back and let everyone else fight it for me. I need to fight for myself, and prove I'm strong enough to handle myself."
"He's already beaten Alvin twice, Stoick. Imagine how good he could possibly be as a soldier?" Skullette adds to the discussion.
My father sighs and there's a long pause before he asks, "You're sure you want to do this Hiccup?"
"I do. To protect Toothless. To protect Skullette, and everyone I care about."
My father sighs, "Alright. You will train with the others. And I'll see to it Gobber assigns you a weapon. That is if you want one."
"A bow." I blurt. My father looks to me with surprise. "I want a bow."
"Really? I didn't know you had an interest in archery, son." He says.
"I know, but it's probably the only weapon I really can handle. And also I can train with Skullette. She's a great hunter." I see Skullette smile and brush her bangs out of her face. And I think I see her slightly blush.
"Well, good to know you'll be having some practice." My father says. "I'm going to go to Gobber and tell him about your new weapon. In the meantime, I need you two to start training immediately."
"Sure dad. But before we start, I need to tell Astrid I'll be training with her too." I say.
Once I finish talking with Astrid, I leave with Skullette and we head to Gobber's shop. Unfortunately, he won't have my new bow ready for at least a few days. Which really is weird since it takes only a few hours to make a wooden bow. Wait, wood. Maybe that's it; he's trying to make me a special bow? Whatever the case, I'll be using Skullette's bow until its ready.
As a practice start, I'll be training with Skullette in the woods for the next few days. Every morning we do exercises to strengthen our bodies. We run and lift things and stretch our muscles. Every afternoon we work on combat skills, throwing knives, fighting hand to hand; Skullette even teaches me to climbs trees. We both excel under the new regimen, though. It also gives me something to do. Goathy puts me on a special diet to gain weight. My dad helps treat my sore muscles.
I seem to be doing pretty good, and am I imagining it? Or am I actually getting stronger? I can pull back a tighter string on the bow, and I even shot down my own deer in the woods. But when it's time for me to report to my training at 7:30, reality slaps me in the face. I've been funneled into a class of relative beginners, fourteen- or fifteen-year-olds, which seems a little insulting until it's obvious that they're in far better condition than I am. Even with my access training. After we stretch, there's a couple of hours strengthening exercises and a five mile run.
This goes on for a week.
It's tough, and I don't know if I can make it even with Skullette's motivational talks. At dawn, Gobber drags me out of bed, determined to get me to training.
"I don't think I can do this." I confess.
"You can do it. I know you can. You're the chief's son aren't you?" he supports. And I get dressed.
I must be the chief's son to make it through the morning. I think I'm going to lose it when I realize it's pouring outside. I clench my jaw and stomp out into the mud. Rain drenches me as I work my body and then slog around the running course. I bail out after a mile, again, and I have to resist the temptation to take off my shirt so the cold water can sizzle off my ribs.
I force down my lunch of soggy fish and beet stew. In the afternoon I learn how to assemble a bow – even though I've got a pretty good grip already. I manage it. Even though the rain continues, the afternoon's an improvement because I'm in the shooting range. At last, something I'm good at. It does take some adjusting, but by the end of the day, I've got the best score in my class.
As I'm getting ready to head home, Gobber calls me over. He wants me to do a shooting test. Only this time, I'll be put on the course we used for the Thawfest games – where we and our dragons had to shot at the enemy and spare our friends. I'm given a tarp to pull over myself for the rain. I'm given the same bow I used in training and a full sheath of arrows.
I take my initial position and walk on hunter's feet, like Skullette taught me. I walk through, and then there's a sudden shift in the wind current. A wooden dummy pops up and I skewer it right through the heart. Another pops up, and he loses his eye. Then the trainer with me begins to launch these fake birds high into the air for me to hit. I'm hitting every one and he starts to increase the number of birds he sends airborne.
When I manage to take down five in one round, without pausing I shoulder-roll forward, come up on one knee, and send an arrow into one of the targets high above the range floor. The dummy falls into a fire pit and a shower of sparks burst from the pit. I'm breathing fairly heavy and I have a couple beads of sweat materializing on my forehead, but my trainer nods in approval with a satisfied grin. Meaning I had exceeded her expectations.
"Fine job, Soldier." She says. I never knew her real name since I've been training separately, but I can tell she's one of those no-nonsense kind of person.
As I'm heading back home, I manage to pull together enough energy to go with Skullette into the woods. Along with that, I have to meet Astrid every other day for my axe throwing lessons. Then I need to go flying with Toothless to practice my aerial attacks. My training has left to no time for any of them.
Nonetheless, I throw myself into training with a vengeance. Eat, live, and breathe the workouts, drills, weapons practice, lectures on tactics. A handful of us are moved into an additional class that gives me hope I may be a contender for the actual war. The soldiers call it the Simulated Street Combat. The in stricter breaks us into squads of eight, and we attempt to carry out missions – gaining a positions, destroying a target, searching a home – as if we're really fighting our way through the Outcast's territory.
The things rigged so that everything that can go wrong for you does. A false step triggers a snare trap, a sniper appears to your sides, your weapon gets stolen, the sound of a crying child leads you into an ambush, you squadron leader gets hit by a flaming arrow and you have to figure out what to do without orders. Part of me knows it's fake and that they're not going to kill me. If you set off a snare trap, you have to pretend to fall to the ground dead. But in other ways, it feels pretty real – the enemy soldiers dressed in Outcast uniforms, the confusion of a smoke bomb. They even gas us using the Zippleback's gas.
I'm the only one who gets my mask on in time. The rest of my squad gets knocked out for ten minutes. And the supposedly harmless gas I took a few lungfuls of gives me a wicked headache for the rest of the day.
In my rare moments of downtime, I anxiously watch the preparations of an invasion due to take place in a matter of weeks. I'm hoping I'll be eligible in time. The only pleasure I have out of everything happening is the fact that I'm the only one they allowed in the war. Apart from Skullette who received special permission from her father. Seeing Snotlout argue with Gobber about letting me in was, honestly hilarious. Gobber gave him a practice test on one of the courses I' easily passed, and Snotlout failed seconds after he was signaled to go.
One morning, Gobber unexpectedly tells me that he's recommended me for an exam, and I'm to report immediately. There are four parts to it: an obstacle course that assesses your physical condition, a written tactics exam – which is probably the one that most likely will sway my chances on becoming a soldier – a test of weapons proficiency, and a simulated combat situation in a special area of the underground training arena. You go through alone. You're not allowed to have your dragons. There's no predicting what situation you'll be thrown into.
I don't even have time to get nervous for the first three and do well. But another young Viking soldier tells me the situation on the combat course is all designed to target an individual's weaknesses.
My weaknesses? That's a door I don't even want to open. But I find a spot and try to assess what they might be. The length of the list depresses me. Lack of physical brute force. A bare minimum of weapon handling. And somehow my standing as the chief's son doesn't seem to be an advantage in a situation where they're trying to get us to blend into a pack. They could nail me to the wall on any number of things.
By now I'm really over thinking the whole thing. By the time my name's called, I don't know what my strategy should be. Fortunately, once I'm in, a certain amount of training does kick in.
It's an ambush situation.
Outcasts appear almost instantly. And I have to make my way to a rendezvous point to meet up with my scattered squad. I slowly navigate the Plaza – which had been cleared just for my training drill – taking out Outcasts as I go. Two on the rooftop to my left, another in the doorway up ahead. It's challenging, but not as hard as I expected. There's a nagging feeling that if it's too simple, I must be missing the point. I'm within a couple of buildings from my goal when things begin to heat up. A half dozen Outcasts come charging around the corner. They will outgun me, but I notice something. A barrel of willow charcoals and coal lying carelessly in the gutter.
This is it. My test. To perceive that blowing up the barrel will be the only way to achieve my mission. Just as I step out to do it, my squadron leader, who's been fairly useless up to this point, quietly orders me to hit the ground. Every instinct I have screams at me to ignore the voice, to shoot the flaming arrow, to blow the Outcasts sky-high. And suddenly, I realize what the military will think my biggest weakness is. From my first moment back when we were fighting dragons, when I ran out and shot Toothless down, to the time I didn't cage the dragons when my father demanded it, to my impulse race to get the dragons and farm animals during that one bad snow storm. I cannot take orders.
I smack into the ground so hard and fast, I'll be picking gravel out of my chin for a week. Someone else blows up the barrel. The Outcasts die. I make my rendezvous point. When I exit the Plaza, Gobber congratulates me, and stamps my hand with squad number 587, and tells me to report to the Great Hall. Almost giddy with success, I run through the village, skidding around corners, bounding up the steps to the Hall. I bang into the room before the oddity of the situation dawns on me: I shouldn't be in the Hall, I should be getting fitted for my uniform.
My father, who was in the middle of a war plan, walks away from his spot, smiles, and shakes his head when he sees me. "Let's see it." Unsure how, I hold out my stamped hand. He smiles broadly, "You're with me son! It's a special unit of sharpshooters. Join your squad." He nods over to a group lining the wall. Skullette. Mulch. Bucket. Gobber. Five others I don't know. My squad. I'm not only in, I get to work under my dad. With my friends.
After the meeting is adjourned, Skullette takes my hand and leads me into the woods to celebrate our own way. Despite the long day, I follow her in and we make out way to the Cove. She had packed her leather bag filled with food and a few flasks of tea. We sit by the water, which emanates an iridescent glow from the moonlight.
We start a fire and a conversation about training, the dragons, the weapons. Everything we never had the time to talk about before. Skullette occupies herself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch her hands, her beautiful, capable fingers. Soft like satin, compared to mine scarred. Hands that have the power to hunt animals but the gentleness to calm anyone or anything consumed with terror. Hands I trust.
I finish and take a drink of tea from the flask before I let her continue with her story. We continue long after the fire's gone out. The night seems strangely warm compared to other nights. I'm happy about it. I want to spend as much time with Skullette as much as possible. With no weather, or training, or duties to separate us. My extreme preoccupation since I started training has left little attention for her. As she's finishing her flask of tea, I give my last slice of an apple.
"Hey Hiccup," she starts, and I turn my attention to her. "Can I ask you something?"
My cheeks feel a little warm, but I force myself to talk, "Yeah, sure."
"When you said you wanted to be in the war, I was, greatly apprehensive about it."
"Why?" I ask genuinely intrigued, but then I decided to make a joke out of it. "Because I'm so small and weak?"
She giggles and I nudge her knee. "No, just because I wanted to know why. I mean, the entire village is trying to protect you from Alvin, and then you want to go on the front lines ad fight. I'm just trying to figure out why."
I turn my head to the glass-like surface of the water and take a deep breath, "My reason is the same as yours, sort of. I don't just want to sit back and let people fight my battles for me. I need to fight for myself, and to also help protect the people I love." I pause and see that I've gained her full attention. She hasn't spoken yet, but probably because she's waiting for me to finish. "Not only that, but I feel like it's an obligation."
"How?" she asks.
"Because, I started this fight." I admit.
"Hiccup, Alvin's been the enemy of Berk for centuries. You didn't start this."
"Yes I did." I counter. "I was the one who showed Alvin that dragons could be trained. I showed him how he could do it. And while he hasn't caught on, I feel like, since I started his new line of raids, I should be the one to finish it. What better way to end a war then by having the 'Dragon Conqueror' defeat Alvin the Treacherous?" I add.
"Hiccup, you don't have to do this, and I'm not trying to tell you no, but you don't."
"I know. But I want to. This is my fight, and I should end it." I conclude.
Skullette sighs, but it wasn't the kind that follows after you've lost an argument, the kind that you get when you've finally gotten an answer to a long-nagging question.
She turns her head back to the water, and strangely, that's when I say, "While we're being honest here, I was a little worried about you entering the war too." I confess.
She turn her head to me, "Because I'm a little girly?" she jokes.
"No, no. I was just worried."
"Why?" she beckons.
"Well, the main reason why I joined the war was to help protect the people I care about, to help keep them alive since I put their lives in danger in the first place. And when I found out you were accepted, I was happy but sad." I pause and catch Skullette tilt her head to the side in wonder. "I mean, it's great since we get to be together, but it only makes it that much harder to keep you safe." I realize the meaning of my words right after I finish. My heat quickens and I have the impulse to cover my mouth. But I simply turn to Skullette, and she's smiling.
"That's so, sweet." She says.
I run my fingers through my hair, irritated now that she's found out. "Uh, yeah, well." And I turn away from her gaze.
"Hiccup . . ." she starts and I hear her shift closer.
My face feels hot, but I force myself to look at her, only to find her a few inches from my face. Her beautiful lips, smooth and soft. I flick my eyes to meet her gaze, and they speak of longing. I then tilt my head, lean in, and I meet her lips to mine. I feel like my entire bidy has ignited. Like one of Toothless' blasts have hit it me in the back, and is now running all through m body. Coursing through my veins. Of all the kisses I've been given to by Astrid, this was the only one, where I felt, something.
I feel her tilt her head deepening the kiss. My hand finds her cheek and I gently cradle it like it's glass. She moves closer and I wrap her in my arms. My lips brushing the soft skin on her neck, working their way to her mouth again. In the fading light of the fire, I kiss her more to express all of the feelings I have withheld from her. I feel the sensation inside me grow warmer and spread out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. It feels so good, so incredibly good.
When we part, I give her another on her forehead, which has become warm. I scoot over to a rock, and Skullette joins me, snuggled down in my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around her back to protect her. She peers up to me and I peer down. I kiss her again and she smiles so broadly, I actually think she's being serious. Not just the aftermath of a long night out. She nestles her head in the crook of my neck, and I can almost feel her heartbeat. Of all the pleasant things I can think about, the one that nags at me is the most troubling.
How hard will I have to work to keep Skullette alive?