When I open my eyes, it's around dawn. Eight seconds before the realization of Hunter's death sinks in. I feel sadder and lonelier than ever. Knowing I had to leave my dreamland where there's peace at all sides. Knowing that this is the real world, and that Hunter and Lucas aren't with me anymore.
It feels like there's liquid lead in my veins, and the heaviness infuses my whole body. I've lost the will to do the simplest tasks, to do anything but lie here, staring unblinkingly through the tarp of my tent.
I miss out on breakfast, and no one comes to get me. For several hours beyond that, I remain motionless. Toothless sticks his head in my tent and purrs to get me to move. But I stay still. I think for a moment he thinks I'm dead. But when he walks into my field of vision, and sees my eyes open, he licks my face, but still I just wipe it away and remain lying on my side.
He wines, but when he knows he's not going to get me to budge, he simply circles me and lies down next to me. Laying his head next to mine. His breaths come smoothly, brushing my face. My hair.
Finally, Dad comes to the front of my tent and opens the flap. "Come on Hiccup, we're having a war meeting."
With that in mind, I push myself into a sitting position. But that's as far as I get. I have to give myself commands just to do simple tasks.
"Now you have to stand up, Hiccup."
So I stand.
"Now change Hiccup."
I pull on my old clothes and fold my uniform and place it next to my sheath of arrows.
"Now you have to go outside, Hiccup."
I push the flap of my tent aside and step out with such robotic motions. My face neutral.
There's a small dusting of snow on the ground. Looking around, everyone's gathered, the only persons missing was me. I take steady steps toward the fire pit. As if suspecting that if I take one unbalanced step, I'll fall over and won't be able to get up.
I want to put my best face on for everyone, fake a smile and just pretend. But what's the point? I'm just putting off the pain, nothing's ever really going to help change it. My eyes can't seem to focus on anything except for the ground in front of my feet.
I don't look up. So when I see the ground start to fade to black, I look up but only focus on the fire pit. I feel too tired to talk. So take a seat next to True, who I almost never talk to.
Not only have I even bothered to try, but now I don't want to. Every time I get to know someone, it costs them their lives. Hunter and Lucas were just the beginning. I don't plan on losing anyone else. And apparently the only way to do that is to keep everyone at an icy distance.
As I sit down, out of the corner of my eye, I see a salmon on a stick. I see Gobber handing it to me. I take the fish, but I don't say thank you or even smile. I feel too weak to even do that. I simply place it over the fire, letting it roast until I want to give it to Toothless. Everyone's quiet, but I don't say anything.
Skullette sits next to me and places her hand on my knee. I don't react. She strokes it and I don't brush her off or even put my hand over hers. I just stare at the fire, putting all my concentration into roasting the fish. Knowing no one' going to get me to speak anytime soon, Dad starts the meeting.
I barely pay attention. Just another proposal on how to invade Tower 2. Then there's the final Tower and the small city of the Outcasts. Nothing seems to register expect when I hear my name then I tune in for a split second. My thoughts drift to how I'm going to keep everyone alive. Because so far, I have epically failed. Lucas. Hunter. Two already dead from out squad.
All who's left is Gobber, True, Skullette, me and my dad.
While I'm not talking for today, I'll start again soon. This is just a simple mourning process. It'll get easier as the day goes on. But what's even worse is that this whole loss with Hunter isn't helping me show my Dad that the old Hiccup is still there. But now, not even I know if he's still there. It's like he's slowly deteriorating into nothing as the deaths go on.
What's going to happen if he's gone? Will I still be the same? Will I be someone no one even wants to be around? Will I lose my mind?
Maybe I already am. I feel crazy enough. And maybe no one has the heart to tell me.
Once the meeting's over, I toss the salmon to Toothless and get up and leave the meeting without a word. No one stops me, and there's no sound of pursuers. I walk through the dead woods alone, no bow, no knife. I just want to walk, and hope that my emotions will let loose so that I can get on with my mission to help my dad capture Alvin so I can end him.
I wander aimlessly, lazily brushing my hand over branches of bushes. Nothing happens. I don't cry, I don't break down, I don't even mourn.
Why not?!
Why can't I let my emotions out? I'm alone. No one's here! I scream to myself. Why can't I let go? Am I subconsciously not supposed to? Am I getting used to the rocks at the bottom? My heart goes numb, but the lonely stays the same. That's the price I'm bound to pay.
I manage to find a tree with a sizable trunk that I can easily hide behind. I just sit down and bring my knees to my chest. There's a weird nagging feeling that if I talk, then maybe it'll encourage my body to let go. Maybe by showing that I haven't loss my voice, it'll remind myself I'm still alive. But maybe I'm supposed to be strong.
Am I?
It wouldn't be surprising. I guess I've somehow tricked my body and mind into thinking that I'm not allowed to show any weakness since I'm the Dragon Conqueror. And any sign of weakness will show Alvin I'm easy prey, and he'll undoubtedly and easily come in for the kill.
But every fiber in my being screams at me to let it all out. If I don't there's also the chance I could go into some state of shock. It's like I want to let go, but I can't. And I just keep wandering in a circle on what I'm supposed to do and how to react.
I hide my eye sin my arms and take deep breaths. Nothing happens.
"Can't seem to let go, huh?" a voice says. My head jerks up to see Mulch. Small bits of his beard have a light little frost on them but his smile can be seen through the thick, frozen hair. I don't reply, instead I focus on my breathing. Steady breaths.
"Never thought you would ever be at a loss for words, Hiccup. Rather strange." He says. I stay quiet. "Look Hiccup, I know you're hurting, and I know you're just being strong for everyone. But remember our talk back on Berk?" he reminds me.
I do. I was crying since I couldn't save the patients at the hospital. And I thought I was weak, but Mulch said I was crying because I've been strong for too long. And now, I want to cry, but I can't. Is the pain not harsh enough?
"Remember, you don't always have to be the rock of every depressing moment." Mulch says. "There's really nothing anyone can say to make it better." I listen closely, hinging on his words. If he can help me before, he's not about to fail me now. "No, being strong is not always the right option. There's only just one way."
"What's that?" I utter.
"Let it hurt." He says, and I give him a confused look. "Let it bleed. Just let it take you right down to your knees." He says tapping my knees. "Let it burn to the worst degree. It may not be what you want, but it's what you need." He says.
"Why?" I ask quietly.
"Sometimes the only way around the pain is to let love do its work. And let it hurt. You might just find you're better for it, when you let go and you learn to let it hurt." He says with an informative tone. Like he's teaching me a life lesson.
There's a moment of silence. I think about his words. I turn away for a moment, and then when I turn back, I open my mouth to say something.
Then I burst into tears.
So much for being strong. And yet, there's the strongest sense of relief.
Mulch sits own next to me, his arm wraps around my shoulder and rubs my back as I unleash wave after wave of sobs. There's a brief moment of when I somehow begin to rock back and forth, but Mulch just keeps rubbing my back until I'm cried out.
"Thank you." I say when I'm finished.
"For what?" he asks softly.
I take a few shaky breaths before I talk, "For helping me." I take another shaky breath. "And for not, like telling me to stop it. Like stop crying." I say
"Well what would be the point in that? Telling someone not to be sad because someone has it worse, is like telling someone not to be happy because someone has it better."
"Thank you." I repeat.
"Of course, Hiccup." He replies.
After I'm all cried out, I can't even describe how much better I feel. We decide to head back to the campsite, and I don't even care that my eyes could be red. I greet Dad hello before I get my knife from my tent, then head over to Skullette's tent. I push aside the flap and find her brushing her hair. She turns and smiles at me.
She stands up and hugs me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hug her torso and take in her sweet scent of lavender. Astrid usually smells like citrus and midnight jasmine. Wait, why am I even thinking about her? I push her out of my mind and after talking with Skullette, she gathers her bow and we decide to go hunting in the woods. Toothless begs to come, and we allow him.
I quickly retreat to my tent to retrieve my cloak, and once she gets hers, we run off, feeling such a sudden sense of freedom by running. Feeling like schoolchildren running hoe after the bell has been rung. Toothless not too far behind.
When we reach a clearing, we're heaving, but we're smiling. We settles by a creek, and while we obviously haven't' shot anything, we spend the time together. Talking. Smiling. And yes, kissing. Toothless giving us a sense of protection.
By the late afternoon, she's once again in my lap. Her head on my shoulder, just carelessly playing with our fingers. Intertwining them and stroking the skin on mine. I take a deep breath, feeling so warm and relaxed. I press my lips to the crown of her head, and once again the scent of lavender floods my nose.
Her emerald eyes perk up to me and she smiles. I smile back, and my stomach is warm. We kiss each other again and she even giggles. The sound makes me smile broadly. And yet I find myself, almost waiting. Because every time there's something peaceful or joyful, something related to the war snaps us back.
Nothing happens. And I feel so overjoyed, but in don't let it consume me until tomorrow. I'll celebrate then. It'll be a record if nothing happens. Skullette and I walk back, holding the other's hand. Talking nonstop and oddly enough, nothing's about the war. It's like we're having a normal day back on Berk.
The snap of a twig scares us both.
I knew it. I think.
We both stand back to back. Circling around as Toothless growls in all directions. I pay close attention to him since his hearing and instincts are far better than mine. His ears twitch left and right. Pressing back then forward trying to hone in on the sound.
Before any of us knows it, a small burlap sack is harshly slammed on my head and I'm yanked forward.
Ambush.
I scream a muffled scream and I hear the muffled yell of my name by Skullette. I try to decipher what's happening as I'm blinded by the fabric.
Toothless roars, infuriated. And as I can see his dark silhouette hurdle toward me, a bola whizzes in the air and I hear Toothless scream the same scream he made when I shot him down with my own invention. The ground shakes as his body slams into the dirt.
"Toothless!" I scream. But it's so muted.
My hands are not tied, but actually being held by sausage fingers. I can hear Skullette paring with at least three men, based on hearing the metallic clangs of their swords against her bow. She seems to be winning.
I try to fight the men holding me so that I can help her. I assume the Outcasts holding me are right behind me. I lean forward and whizz my head back, ramming it into the nose of one of the Outcasts. He grunts in pain and his hands release me, and I use the opening to spin and kick the other in the head.
But more hands consume as I try to fight off the web of hands that appear out of nowhere. The more I fight, the more hands appear. And they keep grabbing at my cloak so I can't run far without them stepping on it, and chocking me harshly and effectivly. If I can't help myself, I can help Skullette and Toothless by leading the Outcasts away from them. I head Skullette get hit in the stomach and possibly sucker-punched in the face.
I hear her fall to the dirt and I try to free myself to help her, but the grip on my hands doesn't light up.
"We've got him! Let's go!" One Outcast commands.
And then I feel my hands cuffed by bigger hands once again, and I'm pushed in different directions as I head Skullette call to me with a weak voice. She'll never save me in time. She's too weak. I can just see small red spots of blood on her pale skin. But she painfully pushes herself to her feet, and stumble forward a couple steps with a hand outstretched. As if thinking she can somehow pull me back toward her with her mind.
But finally the effects of the battle take hold on her, and she falls to the forest floor.
The Outcasts mumble and talk in cocky voices, feeling so empowered now that they've captured me. I expect the worse and just result to killing myself before they even get the chance to deliver me to Alvin.
We walk for several minutes into an unfamiliar part of the woods. I try to see the world ahead of me, relying on nothing but the outlines of what I can make out ad trees, rocks, more trees, and a dark circle. The closer we get, the more I can tell that it's an opening. To something. Like a hall or hideout.
Terror rips a white-hot path through my body, and I can barely breathe. Strong fingers reach out and grip my arms and shoulder. They lift me and I flail uncontrollably as my feet try to find the ground again. Being blind is the scariest thing.
My feet pound something, and it's wooden. I try to feel and I hear the creak of the wood again. I nick my toe on another piece of wood in front of me. Stairs. Steps. Leading to something. Normally I would shrug off their hands, but since I'm blind and don't' know what I'm getting into, I grip their hands as they guide me.
I'm walking up with three Outcasts soldiers on my heels. Then I'm harshly shoved through the dark arched doorway, and it takes the clicking of my prostatic leg on the wood to help me realize, I'm in a wagon. We take three steps into the wagon before they let go of me with a shove that propels me backward further into the back of the wagon.
My knees threaten to collapse beneath me. I stumble over the edge of my cloak and crumple to the floor, twisting my body in midair so I land with my back to the exit. The burlap sack covering my head is yanked off, letting the fresh air infect my nose. The light's temporarily blinding, but once everything focuses, it reveals a covered wagon that's supposed to be mule-drawn, but instead, Outcast soldiers pull it.
The canvas covering dilutes the evening sun into something dim and gray. An Outcast guard braces himself against the back of the wagon and stands, sword drawn, blocking the exit. Foreboding fills me, an oily poison that makes me feel queasy.
It takes a few seconds to notice the cloth-covered lump leaning against the far wall of the wagon. I don't know what's under the cloth, but it can't be good.
Even worse, across from the lump, casted in the shadows is a figure. I push myself back and scoot back, but keeping my distance from the Outcast guard. The figure rises and walks forward, casually. My stomach lurches and I think I'm in the danger of vomiting.
"Hello Hiccup." He says in a raspy voice. Once the remaining sunlight opens up his features, I just about go numb.
I'm alone, with no help in any way shape or form.
I find myself backed into a corner as I stare unblinkingly at Alvin the Treacherous.