Days pass, weeks. I watch as the snow falls. Covering the black ash, becoming soot. It gently lands on the windowsill, frosting the windows. I try and draw little pictures depending on the spaces I have. I try to find some things to do, but my strength has deceased since I'm still going forward with my suicide plan.
And in all that time, Toothless is the only company I have.
He's there when I'm ready to sleep. He keeps me warm during the night. And that's when I realize he was my one true friend out of everybody.
"You may feel you're alone, but I'm still here with you." I can practically hear him say.
It's just too hard to say goodbye to him. One day I just listen to the rain as it falls. I listen to each drop. Whispering secrets in vain. Frantically searching for someone to hear their story before they hit ground. Listen. Listen. Weeping. I stand alone in the storm. Suddenly sweet words take vain. "Hurry," they say. "For you haven't much time. Open your eyes to the love around you." You can do what you dream, just remember to listen to the rain.
I chip off a sharp piece of wood and begin to carve pictures of Toothless into the wooden floor and sometimes the wall s if I ran out of room. I have about half of the room carved in a number of days.
What are they doing anyway? What's the holdup out there? How difficult is it to arrange the execution of one murderous boy? Nonetheless, I continue with my own annihilation. My body's thinner than it's ever been, and my battle against hunger is so fierce that sometimes the animal part of me gives into the temptation of roast beef and fish stew.
Sometimes I'm served buttered bread, but I eat what I can stomach and give the rest to Toothless. He might even be gaining weight. But still, I'm winning. For a few days, I feel quite unwell, and think that I may finally be traveling out of this life. Toothless can sense it too. They say a Night Fury can sense an oncoming death.
Then I realize that my medicine servings are slimming. They would serve me a vial every day, but now it's slowly reducing to once a week. Are they slowly trying to wean me off the stuff? Are they afraid I'll become addicted and abuse it like I did that one time? But why? Surely a drugged traitor will be easier to dispose of.
And then a terrible thought hits me. What if they don't plan on disposing me right away? What if I'm not given that luxury? What if they want to torture me so severely that I'll be begging for mercy, and they'll have the ability to deny me?
I won't allow it. If I can't kill myself in this room, I'll do it the second the first opportunity outside of it arises. I'll finish the job.
Joining the war has given some incite of the human kind. Its shown me the true nature of humans. I thought that if I joined the war, I could stop Alvin and save those that I love. But in reality, they joined to protect me. We were just going in circles. And it doesn't matter who wins, the result I the same. A man killing a man to grab power.
No one will ever brainwash me again into using any weapon on any man. Friend or foe. In the end who does it benefit? No one. Lives are lost, people mourned. There's something wrong with the way creatures like us think if we need to sacrifice precious lives just to settles our differences.
After two days of my lying on my bed with no attempt to eat, drink, or even take my medicine, Toothless constantly wines. He's worried. And I want to tell him that it's okay. That I wanted this. Tell him to take care of my father and the others. But I can't I'm too weak to care.
I just stare out of the window. Suddenly the lock unlatches and it creaks open. Someone crosses into my field of vision. Dad. I don't even look him in the eye. My eyes just readjust to the scale mail armor on his tunic. I hear him sigh heavily. He kneels down so he's in my sight. I can just see the vacant look in his eyes. Possibly even a tear.
He lifts his big meaty hand and slowly moves it toward my sunken cheeks. He hesitates, and I think this is the first time he realizes the size advantage he's had over me for years. Only now he sees it now that I'm a walking skeleton. I continue to smoothly breathe, and when he places his hand on my cheek, even in the gentlest way he can, I begin to cry.
He's not hurting me, and I'm scared that's that he think he's doing. I'm crying because I don't want him to see me like this. Because I don't want him to see that I've given up on him even while he was fighting to keep me alive. And because I just want it all to end. I want my suffering, my loss, me grieving. I want it all to end.
"I want it to end, Dad. Please, make it end." I beg to him in a whispered sob.
His eyes become glassy with tears. He struggles to hold back sobs as he tries to speak. "I'm so, I'm so sorry, son." He cries, and the tears escape him and they flow down his rosy cheeks and splatter onto the wood of my bed. "I did this."
He leans forward and rests his arm on the edge of the bed. "I never meant for you to suffer so much loss. I blame myself. After I lost your mother, all I wanted was for you to be happy. And a-at first I thought you joining the war would help, but . . . but it's only made me lose my son." He begins to make the same choking sounds I make when I'm upset. His voice cracked on a few of his words.
I realize now that I'm not the only one who is broken. Our proud chief, Stoick the Vast, is just as broken as I am. I've lost so many things. But my father lost the one thing in this rotting world that gave him a purpose. A reason to hold on.
Me.
We may have had our differences in the past, but I had served a bigger purpose in life than I thought. I gave my father a reason to keep going. We may not have always seen eye to eye, (literally and metaphorically) but I was the only connection my father had to my mother. I was his reason to stay strong and push forward. It was all for me.
And now here I am, a pale-skinned living skeleton that only wants to die. I don't know what to do. I'm so close to finishing my plan, but now I don't want to leave my Dad. I don't need to say anything.
Dad collects himself then talks to me in his normal voice. "You're trial's over, son." He says. "You're coming home."
Home? Is he serious? He must see my thoughts on my face because he continues. "After careful debating and tossing details back and forth, we came to find out that Mildew was the one responsible for sending the armada of dragons into the city. He was hoping that by showing you what dragon can do, you'd somehow agree with him that they're no good. He knew everyone would listen to you. And I guess he thought to use that to his advantage."
'"So what now?" I ask.
"Well, we go home. You were tried as Not Guilty. Now let's go home."
Even if I wanted to, I'm too weak to move. Goathy comes in with a stranger and they rehydrate me, feed me, bathe me clothe me. Then Dad drapes his fur cape over my shivering body, and lifts me like I'm as light as a rag doll. He carries me to Tornado where we fly back to Berk. Ever since the ride to Outcast Island, I don't want to ride a boat for awhile. But we hover close above so Toothless doesn't get agitated.
As the wind courses my hair, I try to think of what I'm going to do. I never expected to live after I shot Mildew. But now, I don't know what to do now that the war's over. I could go back to the Dragon Academy, but not even I think I'm in a stable enough condition to work there again. Besides, the whole village probably thinks I'm a hopeless traumatized juvenile delinquent. They won't even want to come near me. Let alone trust me to run an Academy surrounded by dragons.
One condition upon my release is that I go into therapy like Bucket to help me with my traumas. I don't know how long, but I'm hoping not. I've been through so much, the last thing I want to do is talk about it. It's around late evening when we arrive at the docks of Berk. The sun was just on the horizon, providing a beautiful purple and pink sunset.
There are guards on every side of me as we land. I step off, a little groggy, but I hold myself up. All I have to do is survive the walk back to my house and then I can crash onto my own bed. Toothless leaps off of the boat and is by my side in seconds.
I catch my reflection on the water's glassy surface and I see that while I look hydrated, I still have dead eyes, slightly hollow cheeks and my arms have lost a little fat due to my suicide plan. I ruffle my hair and walk forward. The guards follow my every move.
Out of the crowd, I hear my name called. "Hiccup!" I look over my shoulder and see Astrid rushing toward me. But the minute she's close enough to see me, her face morphs into shock and horror and sadness. She stares at me for a minute. She steps forward, extending a hand, but the guards form an X with their spears.
I don't say anything, instead Dad steps up and speaks for me. "Uh, Hiccup's still trying to recover from those harsh days on the island. We're not ready to have him interact with people yet."
I look to Dad and just take a deep breath. Interact with the public?
What am I going to do? Pull a knife on them and attack out of nowhere? He makes it sound like I'm going to snap at any moment. Like one word from anyone and I'll just raid the village and lay siege to it. The real reason I'm not interacting is because I've tried to kill myself multiple times, and since I still resemble a skeleton, I don't really feel confident enough to talk to anyone.
And I'm tired. So tired.
Fishlegs and the others come up behind Astrid and they all show shock and horror. "Hiccup?" Fishlegs cries.
I ignore him and walk with the guards up to my house. All through the entire walk, everyone stares at me and they make room for me as I approach my house. The house has a warm glow to it and I can see smoke coming from the skylight. I walk in and find that Gobber has built a fire. There's a pot of fish stew brewing over the wood and Gobber pokes at them with his sword.
"Oh, hey Hiccup. Glad you back." he says. I allow a small smile. Or more like turning the corners of my mouth upwards.
I pull up a kitchen chair, but I don't accept a bowl of stew. Instead, I pull my knees to my chest, clutching them tightly. Dad comes over and hands me the lavender that he thankfully remembered to get before we left Outcast Island. I take it in my hands and bring the flower to my nose and inhale. The smell calms me.
While still holding the flower, my fingers reach for the leather pouch containing the dirt of Skullette's grave. Combine the physical evidence and the smell, if I close my eyes, I can just picture her standing on the other side of the fire, poking at the logs, making sure the stew doesn't overcook.
I keep my eyes close to savor the image. I don't want it to leave.
"Hiccup, we'll leave you to settle. We're going to head to the Great Hall for a banquet. Feel free to join us if you please."
As the sound of their footsteps fade away, I whisper. "I doubt it."
It feels like my thoughts have locked me in place. I'm unable to leave from the chair. I'm not allowed to do anything but sit here and think. Even with Toothless laying at me feet, the rest of the house feel cold and dark. Toothless brings me my blanket and I pull it on, and continue watching the flames.
I guess I must've fallen asleep since the next time I open my eyes, it's morning. I find myself in my bed, tucked under three quilts, and the smell of eggs caresses my nose. There's banging going on around the fire pit downstairs. I wake with an annoying headache, but the pain subsides when I let the sunlight and room come into focus. Toothless still hasn't left my side as my prostatic leg braises his tail.
I walk downstairs and find Gobber poking at the logs over the fire. I would be surprised, but Dad was never one to cook. And I did recall hearing Gobber cooks on occasions.
"Morning Hiccup." He says, and he hands me two eggs and some cold yak milk.
He doesn't leave until I've finished them. Then he tells me he'll be back to help with dinner. Dad's heading out for a few days with Tornado to Outcast Island. He doesn't tell me why and I don't ask. After breakfast, Gobber does dishes then leaves to head to the blacksmith shop.
Then he comes again at supper time and serves me and Dad some wild hog meat and some berries. I don't know if he's just being friendly out of sympathy, or because he was assigned by the village to babysit me since I'm allegedly crazy. But he and I both know I don't want any company besides Toothless. Since he was the only one who was there for me while I was on trial.
Everything becomes a cycle. Gobber cooks, I eat. I try to think of something I can do. But nothing comes to mind. I don't think there's any reason to taking my life anymore. No one comes to visit me, but after months of my solitary confinement, just having Gobber over feels like a crowd.
One day he tells me, "Spring is in the air, Hiccup. You should get out. Breathe some fresh air." He says as he covers a pot of some stew.
I look out the door I just realized he left open and see the grounds green again. And small flower buds sprout from around the Square and birds chirp in the distance. I haven't left the house. I've barely left the kitchen except for the mysterious nights when I woke up in my bed.
The clothes I received from Outcast Island still haven't left my body. I stiffly unbend my knees, and since I don't stretch, I wobble to the doorway, then after I feel circulation return, I walk out and into the village.
There's only one place I want to go. I hop on Toothless and within a blink of my eyes, we're at Skullette's grace.
The white on the cross seems little changed even with the winter snow. Small flowers blossom around the swell of land. I clutch the leather patch around my neck and drop to my knees. Toothless stays a few feet behind me. He knows I want to be alone.
I stare blankly at the grave. Feeling nothing but emptiness. The same feelings that haven't left me ever since her death. Suddenly the words of the song I sang at Hunter's death replay in my mind. I'm surprised at how clear the lyrics are.
"Dark the stars, and Dark the moon.
Hush the night and the morning gloom.
Tell the horses and beat on your drum.
Gone their master, gone their son."
"I did it Skullette." I whisper, and my throat tightens and tears sting my eyes.
"Dark the oceans, dark the sky
Hush the whales and the ocean tide."
"I did it."