I Own Nothing
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And now for the chapter you've all been waiting for:
Chapter 14
The Truth Comes Out
Snotlout erupted in glee. "I caught him! I caught him!"
"Good job, lad," Stoick said approvingly, "now, let's get him—"
The King roared and all of a sudden the net on him burst into flames. There was a cutting sound and the King emerged from the burning net with one of his gauntlets smoking. His fake leg had been switched with a long ice axe blade. He quickly flipped it so the leg returned to its normal function, and rushed out the door. At the same time the chains that the giant skewered metal dragon hung from were snapped by a Terrible Terror and the hall's centerpiece came crashing down onto a score of the Vikings below it. Then Fireworms crawled out of the great bonfire and set parts of the floor blazing before vanishing back into the firewood.
Stoick, who had not been hurt by the crash, was the first to recover from the surprise. "Put those fires out, quickly! And after him! I want him alive! After him!"
The King had only gone a few feet from the hall when he ran smack into Gobber.
"Sorree I'm late but—what?"
"Sorry Gobber, but I think dinner is canceled!" the King whipped around him but the delay had been costly. The Villagers were right behind him now, with Stoick in the lead. The King raced down a path between houses, rounded a corner, then another and another, hoping to lose them. Then he came to a stone wall.
"Thought this might happen," he muttered to himself, "wish it hadn't, but we can at least give them some entertainment tonight,"
He looked left and right, spotted a large shed, and quickly climbed on top of it by utilizing a barrel. The second he started climbing he was spotted, which did not bother him to much since he knew Stoick wanted him alive. The mob instantly changed direction and before he knew it the shed was surrounded. He crouched down to minimize the target and maintain his balance.
"We've got him!" he heard Stoick say, "keep me covered!"
"No, Stoick!" Spitelout shouted, "Snotlout will go up there!"
"Me?" Snotlout cried, "I mean, sure, but it would be much…smarter to bring assistance. Dogsbreath, Fish, you guys come with me!"
"You go first!" Dogsbreath cried.
"What's the matter, Berk?" The King shouted loudly, "Afraid to come up here and face me? I've gotten you to show your true colors tonight, are you too afraid to go any further now? Afraid I might have a hundred dragons within calling distance at this very moment?" He was bluffing a little on that last part, but they did not need to know that. The bluff did not seem to faze them, for Spitelout again shouted:
"Snotlout, git up there!"
"Fishlegs, get up there and I'll be right behind you!"
"Oh for the love of—I'll go up!" The King could not help but feel like he'd been punched in the stomach. The voice had belonged to Astrid.
She climbed up onto the roof and he glared at her like an angry tiger in a cage. "And I thought you were on my side!" He snarled.
She shrugged coldly. "Orders are orders. The Chief ordered us to take you alive; I've got to do this. Cooperate and this will be a lot easier for you. And I don't want any help!" She shouted downwards, for several Vikings had begun trying to climb up to join her. "I can handle this! Just let me talk to him!"
"Oh yes, let's talk. Do you want to have me come over for dinner?"
Astrid pointed her axe at him. "Don't make this harder than it has to be! You've got no way out now, so are you going to come quietly or not?"
"Come where?" he asked, playing for time. A new idea was forming in his mind.
"To the cells. I give you my word as a Shield Maiden you'll be treated fairly if you agree to come. If not…"
The person he had placed so much faith in was trying to threaten him into surrendering. His hand went down to his belt.
"If you're going to fight, I won't hold back," Astrid warned him.
"I'll keep that in mind," he snapped. He held up a sword hilt.
"You're seriously going to fight me with that?" Astrid asked incredulously.
"Yep!" He swung it downwards and a blade engulfed in flames shot out from the hilt. In the darkness the fire burned menacingly against his black figure. He smirked at Astrid's astonished expression. "You're move, Hofferson!"
Astrid bit her lip. "I don't want any help!" She repeated to the crowd, "It has to be a fair fight." With a sudden cry she charged towards him, swinging her axe. With rapid speed he blocked it. Fire and steel collided again and again. She ducked and he swung, she lunged and he blocked, back and forth.
For the villagers down below it was truly spectacular seeing their model Viking fighting a demon lover with a flaming sword, and they cheered accordingly.
"Get him Astrid!"
"Beat him to a pulp!"
"That's my Successor!" Stoick shouted, which prompted Snotlout and Spitelout to glare at him.
Suddenly she slipped her leg under the Kings and tripped him. He slid down the roof but stopped himself before he fell off. He climbed back up like a raccoon, only for her to ram into him and pin him against the rooftop.
"Do you have a plan of escape?" Astrid whispered to him.
"What makes you think I'd tell you?" He spat as he tried to push her off. She pressed harder and kept him pinned down.
"I'm trying to help you!"
"By fighting me?"
"By buying you time and keeping everyone else off your back!" She suddenly stood up and said loudly "you can't beat me and you know it! Just surrender!"
"Not likely," he replied, then he lowered his voice, "and that acting sounded a bit fake!"
"Was it? Why you son of a half troll bilge rat dung bucket—!" She was shouting again
"Better," he intentionally tripped, and Astrid leapt on top of him. They began to wrestle while trying to not slide off the roof.
In the woods nearly a dozen dragons were watching nervously. Their orders were to just come when he called for them, but so far he had not called. They could not figure out why not. Then one of them pointed out movement over by the docks.
"Why haven't you called for backup, if you've really got some?" Astrid shouted in a jeering tone, but deep down she was genuinely curious. She swung her axe again and he blocked it. "Afraid they might get hurt?"
"It's you guys that need to worry about getting hurt!" He laughed. "Look to the sea!"
Stoick spun around and saw to his horror that Scauldrons had risen out of the ocean and were blasting boiling water at a Berkian ship in the harbor. Those ships were indispensible for Berk's survival and if they were all destroyed…
"Save the ships!" he screamed, "drive the dragons off and save the ships!"
"All right boys that will do!" The King shouted. There was no need to destroy every ship. He was not that destructive. But it made for a nice distraction. He pushed Astrid into the roof tiles. She was up in an instant but he was already running to the edge of the roof.
"Come back and fight!" She shouted, wishing she could add 'I'm really sorry about all this, I didn't know!', but he had already leapt off the roof, had landed on the top of the wall that had blocked him earlier, jumped off of that, and was racing to the Chief's house.
"After him!" Stoick shouted.
"I'll get him, Chief!" Astrid roared, "Nobody just leaves a fight with me and gets away with it!"
The King seized a cart and pressed a hand to one gauntlet. Fire spewed from the gauntlet and torched the cart, which he then shoved downhill towards the advancing mob.
"Run for it!"
"Put it out!" Stoick shouted quickly, "put it out before the fire spreads! You lot, get buckets and put it out! The rest of you come with me!" Raising his hammer he led them up to his house. The King had already managed to climb onto the roof and was proceeding to climb onto the second level.
"Surround the house!" Stoick ordered, "You lot, start climbing after him! Spitelout, take some men inside and block the stairs! He can't escape us now!" He looked upwards, picking out the Kings silhouette against the night sky, and felt a sense of satisfaction. Astrid was beside him looking anxious.
"He leaves one roof to get stuck on another?" she cried.
"Don't worry lass, we've got him! And I'll let you two have a rematch later on in the Arena if you want! That way there'll be no doubt as to who's the superior fighter!"
Gobber caught up to them panting and groaning. "Ah'm too beat up for this kinda thing!"
"Don't worry, Gobber, it's over now. Look, we've got him surrounded!"
But then they heard a sound they had not expected to hear. The Dragon King was laughing. It sounded like the laugh of a maniac. "Surrounded? HA! You and what army?" Indeed, many of the villagers had gone off to put out the fires.
"Now, shall I call for someone to pick me up?" The King asked himself as he looked around thoughtfully. "Nah,"
Gobber stared up at the King silhouetted against the night sky. He had a feeling in his stomach that he had seen a ghost; a ghost that was now raising its hands.
"Is he surrendering?" Astrid cried wildly.
"No 'e's…say, what's that stuff between 'is arms?"
The King suddenly broke into a run and leapt off the house.
"He's crazy!" Astrid screamed, "He's crazy, he's…flying!" And indeed he was. The Dragon King had leapt off the roof and, with the air of large leather fins attached to his suit, glided right over their heads and disappeared into the woods.
There was a stunned silence. Just about every villager was staring and gaping with their mouths wide opened. Then Fishlegs broke the silence and shouted the question everybody was thinking.
"What is he?"
The only answer to this was a Night Fury roar.
"NIGHT FURY!"
"GET DOWN!"
"Get up and get him, you fools!" Stoick shouted, "He's calling for his pet! And you lot get those fires put out, now!" He hurried down to the edge of the woods. "Bring bows and we'll—" He stopped in his tracks. The Dragon King was standing in between two trees, arms folded. He looked like he was ready to breathe fire. After what she had just witnessed, Astrid couldn't help but believe he might have devised the means to do so.
"Why?" he demanded.
Stoick advanced, but leapt back when a cloud of fire burst in front of him, nearly lighting his beard on fire.
"I've got Zippleback gas in my gauntlets, and don't think for one moment they're empty!" The King shouted. "And before anybody thinks of slipping into the woods and sneaking up on me, there are over a dozen dragons hiding behind me, and they'll see you before you see them!" This last was said because he had spotted Spitelout about to try that very tactic. His words caused Spitelout to stop in his tracks and back away.
"Why?" the King yelled. "I offered you peace, and you decided to pull this! I would have made Berk the most wonderful place in existence, and you threw away the chance! I thought this might be a trap, but I wanted to believe you were better than that, so for the third and final time: WHY?"
"Your Night Fury killed my son," Stoick growled, "Do you expect me to ally myself with the murderer of my boy?"
"That's what this is about? You risked the entire safety of your village to kill one dragon? Hope you like burnt ships then! I could burn this entire village to the ground if I wanted too—you're really pushing your luck here! And—how many times do I have to say it?—Toothless did NOT kill Hiccup!"
"I say he did." Stoick said firmly, "I never believed that story you fed Astrid! My son would never have let you take him away from his home!"
"How much do you wanna bet on that?"
Stoick ignored him, "Besides, we need you and those dragons."
"And thought to drop a net on me instead of, oh I don't know, asking? Oh I get what you're after! You're hardly the first to think it! Take me prisoner and then use me to make the dragons do your bidding, was that it?"
Stoick's face for once betrayed him, for it clearly showed that the King was right. There were murmurs from the crowd. Virtually none of them had known about this plan at all, until they had read that parchment. Until that moment had arrived Astrid herself had believed the Chief was going to accept dragons. But when the Chief shouted 'stop him' they had naturally responded. As Astrid had said, orders were orders.
The King clenched his fists. "That idea came from Spitelout, I'm guessing, and it's got more holes in it than a piece of pumice! You're really dumb, you know that? Dumb to think I would trust you lot blindly!" He knew that he almost had trusted them blindly, but not any longer, he promised himself, "What makes you think the dragons would bow down to you just because you hold me hostage? You claim to hate dragons and want revenge and to wipe them out, yet you're not trying to enslave them to serve you? You can't have it both ways, Stoick! Heck, you're not even going to get it one way! You might not have noticed, but I'm not exactly your prisoner, am I?" He kicked a rock as if to demonstrate his freedom. "So you lied to me, thinking to lure me here and imprison me, force the dragons do your bidding, and kill my best friend. I'd expect better from Alvin the Treacherous—at least he doesn't make any pretensions about having morals!"
"How dare you! You live among monsters and demons and threaten us with them! It's thanks to dragons that we've lived in fear and struggled for centuries, instead of prospering! You live with the filth that killed my wife, and you ride the beast that killed my son! Is that not enough reason to want to capture you?"
"It might be if it was true, but it isn't! Dragons are much better creatures than you give them credit for, and for the final time: TOOTHLESS DID NOT KILL YOUR SON!"
"AND FOR THE FINAL TIME, HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?"
The King clenched his fists. He was shaking with rage now.
"I warned Astrid of the consequences this might have." He said darkly, "but if this is what it'll take to convince you—you've brought this upon yourselves." As his voice rose his hand went up to his helmet. "You're so desperate to know what really happened to Hiccup, aren't you! Honestly, you must be the biggest bunch of idiots to not have figured it out already! Have I really been gone that long that you all forgot what my voice sounds like? Didn't I give out enough hints as to who I was? Did you need me to 'gesture to all of me'? You want to know how I know Toothless didn't kill Hiccup? Because if he had killed Hiccup, then how in the name of Helheim would you explain this?" He pulled off his helmet and the mask that was underneath it.
Stoick dropped his hammer. Astrid felt her axe slide out of her grasp and closed her eyes. Gobber's mouth dropped opened, and just about everybody else who could see him screamed in astonishment.
The face of the Dragon King had a few short scars along it, but these made it look rather handsome, in a rugged way. Or at least it would if his expression was one of pure fury. The sweaty auburn hair was above the shoulders. His eyes were a usually lovely shade of forest green that looked dark and menacing in the firelight. This was a face nobody had seen in eight years, and had never imagined they would ever see again. The face of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, the long believed deceased son of Chief Stoick the Vast.
"There!" He shouted, "You wanted to know what I look like! Now you know! Your old punching bag 'Hiccup the Useless' is the Dragon King!" He looked around. "What's the matter? No sneers and taunts for me? No orders to get inside? Why for a moment I'd have thought you guys have gotten soft!"
"H—Hiccup?" Stoick's voice was suddenly very hoarse.
"Oh, he can talk, can he? And he's actually talking to me! I might just die of shock!"
"You're—alive? But—how?"
"Do you mean 'how am I still alive', or 'how did Useless survive 8 years living in the wilderness'? Don't bother answering that, I was being rhetorical."
'Rhetoria what?" Snotlout whispered to his father, who shrugged. Hiccup shifted back and forth angrily.
"You know, you were technically correct—congratulations—a Night Fury did carry me off. But did you never think that maybe he carried me off because I allowed him to? I ran away. Even when Astrid gave you that story, you still couldn't believe it, could you? You Vikings are so blinded and stubborn you can't ever think of anything that falls outside of your own opinions! You look shocked, I see." He was looking only at Stoick. "You'll be asking 'why' now. Remember the last major raid Berk ever had? The night I claimed I shot down a Night Fury and nobody believed me? Well, I was telling the truth. I shot him down—the worst thing I ever did while on Berk—and I found him tied up in the woods that morning. Yes, I did, and I had him entirely at my mercy!" He had not intended to tell this story, but he was so angry he wanted to let it all out in one giant blow. He wanted to see Stoick hurt when he learned he had chosen a Night Fury over his own family.
"You—shot a Night Fury down?" Stoick was thunderstruck and it took him a minute before he got out the words "but—why didn't you tell me?"
"DID YOU NOT JUST HEAR WHAT I SAID?" Hiccup roared. He forced himself to calm down and spoke in a softer tone but no less angry tone. "I told you, you dismissed it, so I found him myself. And then I did the best thing I ever did while on Berk. I refused to kill him and I set him free."
"You WHAT?" Stoick shouted, and other people had similar reactions. "You set a dragon free to ravage and destroy my island? What were you thinking? It could have killed all of us!"
"And it didn't, did it? But I didn't stop there—oh no! You're going to just love this part! I befriended him! I gave him the means to fly again! And he taught me a few tricks too—tricks that made me the biggest star in Berk for a time!" He would shatter the illusion once and for all now.
Astrid was hanging onto every word, and she knew she was not the only one. She suddenly remembered the day when Hiccup had driven back a Zippleback without even touching it.
Stoick spoke slowly but dangerously. "You—you're saying that everything you did in Dragon Training was all a bunch of TRICKS?"
"You didn't seem to mind too much then. You saw what you wanted to see and ignored everything else—a bit of a common failing among all of us it seems!"
"You were succeeding for the first time! Why couldn't I be happy for you?"
"Or were you just happy for yourself and your reputation? You know, I was told you were upset by my perceived death. I've often wondered if you were upset because your only son was dead, or was it because the son you thought you finally had was gone just when you were starting to like him?"
"I—"
"And you know what the really ironic thing is about all of this? None of it would have ever happened if you had believed me that night after the raid! But I'm glad you didn't. Know why? Because for the very first time in nearly a decade, I had a real friend."
Nobody had been paying any attention to Fishlegs during this time, but he had been a few paces behind Stoick. At those last words he flinched.
"And then everything seemed ready to fall apart when I was chosen to kill the Monstrous Nightmare. I knew that was never going to happen. So, Toothless and I left. Yes, we left. And that very night we found the dragon nest at Helheim's Gate." He shifted his position a little. "I did consider telling you about it, but I realized you'd kill Toothless and probably never believe me anyway, so, with a little help from the dragons you were keeping here, Toothless and I led a revolt against the Red Death. But you already know that part." He glanced down at his fake leg. Stoick looked appalled.
"You lost a leg because of those beasts and you still sided with them?" He shouted.
"Better a bit of the leg than a life." Hiccup shrugged. "I lost my whole childhood because of you Vikings. I made a new leg for myself, but I can't get those 15 years back. So overall, dragons have hurt me less than Berk did."
"Those monsters killed your MOTHER!"
"A mother I've never known! You never talked about her! I don't even know what she looked like—how can I use her as an excuse to kill dragons? And did I not ask you once how many mothers you've killed trying to avenge Valka? Have those deaths brought you any consolation, Stoick? How many more will you get killed because you can't let go of something?" He looked at the crowd, "how many more villagers are you all going to get killed because you can't accept the truth even when it's right in front of you?"
Stoick now was so stunned by what he was hearing that he seemed to be in a daze, unable to notice anything or anyone. Snotlout, on the other hand, had gotten over his shock and was now indignant. "So you're telling me Useless is the Dragon King?" he shouted to the crowd.
"I believe I said that earlier."
Snotlout ignored him. "The most pathetic guy in the world thinks he controls dragons! Those beasts must be a lot dumber than we thought to let such an idiot live with them! I mean, give me a break! Nobody in their right mind would ever bow to a wimpy little worm like Hiccup!" He strolled forward cockily, "you seem to have forgotten your place in your absence. Here, let me remind you!" He raised a fist.
Hiccup touched his gauntlet and flames burst towards his old tormentor.
"GAH! You—you little devil you—I could have been burned to death!" Snotlout screamed when he'd gotten clear of the fire.
"You know, you've often said 'I've never seen anyone mess up that badly.'" Hiccup said dully, "As if you've done any better."
"Oh yeah? Come and fight me like a man, Useless!" Snotlout raised his hammer and charged, ignoring Stoick's order to stop. Almost lazily, Hiccup whipped out his sword, sliced Snotlout's hammer in two, and grabbed his cousin by the neck.
"If you're the perfect Viking then all the snails on the continent can be considered Vikings!" He threw Snotlout to the ground, "I got even with you when I told Astrid about your theft and bribes. You're not worth any more of my time so scram, before I set your rear on fire!"
Snotlout squeaked and scampered into the crowd. By this point the shock was beginning to wear off and reactions were setting in. Most of them weren't good and Hiccup knew it.
"Well, I think I've had enough of Berk's hospitality for one night, so I'll be going now," He announced. At that moment nearly 20 dragons emerged from the woods behind him, including Toothless. The Vikings backed away quickly.
"Well, well, well, couldn't miss the excitement, could you guys? I'm surprised at you, Grimm. I thought I told you last night you guys were to stay back as an auxiliary rescue team."
"We came because we were concerned about you." Shamrock explained,
"So can we burn this village to the ground now?" The Skrill demanded impatiently.
"I think enough has happened for one night, don't you?" The King replied wearily. "Let's just be—"
"Traitor!" Mildew suddenly shouted, and there was a low rumble of agreement. Hiccup froze in his tracks. His anger began to mount again. An entire lifetime of pent up rage and pain would not be contained any longer.
"Ah…we come to that, now, do we? You call me a traitor…perhaps I am. But perhaps now…" now his face contorted with fury again. "Traitor, am I? What was I betraying? The beliefs of the tribe that hated me, beat me, laughed at me, spat at me, made me the butt of every joke, rejoiced at my apparent death and wished it had only come sooner? So I'm guilty of treason, am I? WELL THEN YOU'RE ALL GUILTY OF ABANDONMENT!" He pointed to Gobber, "Except you! You were the only person who showed any compassion for me. As for the rest of you, consider this: a dragon, the creature you've proclaimed to be a mindless killing machine, showed more kindness to me in a month, than the rest of you showed in FIFTEEN YEARS!" He was nearly screaming now. "I didn't betray Berk! I was never part of Berk to begin with, as you always made it clear to me! You, Fishlegs, what did you say when we were about seven? 'Snotlout says I shouldn't hang out with you anymore.' You, Astrid, told me that I was the nicest person you ever knew—it would have been nice if you could have done the same for me when I was still 'alive,' instead of always ignoring me! You might as well know: that night when you were lost and met that Zippleback, until I got there I had no idea it was you I'd come to help. But you…" he pointed to Stoick, "You were the worst of them all! What was it you said? 'All those years as the worst Viking Berk has ever seen.' And it gets even better! I can still recall like it was yesterday you saying 'I wish he had been the one taken instead of Valka!'"
Astrid stared at her chief in shock. She had never known about that. It took Stoick every ounce of self control to keep his voice level. "I—I was drunk!"
"That's a lie and you know it! I checked myself that night because I was hoping you were! I found out you only had a single mug of mead that night and I know perfectly well it took at least three in those days to get you to start feeling intoxicated!"
Fishlegs was at first impressed at this information, and then shocked. Hiccup as a child had worked out how much it took to get his father drunk.
"I—I—"
"Save it, Stoick. You're only making it worse for yourself. I get it: you didn't want me, and you still don't. So I'll grant you your wish." He whistled. "You can consider any ties between our tribes ended. Let's go, Bud!"
Taking care to keep facing the Vikings, Hiccup climbed onto the Night Fury.
Stoick could not contain himself anymore. "YOU'RE NOT MY SON! YOU NEVER WERE MY SON, YOU DEVIL LOVER!"
Hiccup's face was unreadable. "I figured that out a long time ago, Stoick. And I would like to add this: you were never my father!"
Rage boiled in Stoick uncontrollably. He seized the spear Spitelout was holding and flung it with all his might straight into Hiccup's shoulder.
Toothless screamed. Hiccup clenched the saddle as tightly as he could, his face screwed up in pain.
"Go!" he shouted before clenching his teeth shut.
Stoick stared at the spot they had vacated, transfixed by what had just happened. He looked down at his hand as if it did not belong to him.
Astrid wanted to scream at him. Gobber was screaming at him but Stoick seemed unaware of it. Fishlegs wanted to scream at everyone. So did Snotlout, but that was because his hammer had been destroyed. And others were screaming too, pointing at a handful of fires still to be put out and a flock of dragons gathering on a nearby seastack off the coast.
Toothless stopped minutes later on said seastack; the rest of the dragons were right behind him. Hiccup slumped off of him onto the ground, the spear still in his shoulder and a lot of blood seeping out around it.
"Hiccup!"
"Don't—call—" Hiccup moaned.
Various dragons were panicking and screaming, one shouted: "What do we do? What do we do? We can't leave it there, but if we remove it he'll bleed to—and he's already doing that now! What do we do? What do we do?"
"Stop it!" Toothless roared. He had been shocked too but the panic of the others brought him to his senses. "We need to get that spear out of him now! Persephone, hold his head. Midnight, hold his left arm, Grimm, take the right. Evictus, sit on his legs. Shamrock, when I tell you to, you pull the spear out. As soon as it's out I'll start licking it. Got it? The rest of you, watch Berk and keep us covered!"
They nodded collectively and took their positions. Toothless swallowed.
"Pull!"
Shamrock seized the spear in his claws and pulled. Immediately the flow of blood increased. Hiccup was barely coherent now; the only thing he noticed was the pain he was in. As soon as the spear was out of the way Toothless began licking the wound, an effort that was not helped Hiccup's screams and flailing, nor by the armor that covered most of it.
"He's still bleeding!" Midnight shouted.
"The stupid armor's in the way!" Toothless growled.
"Shamrock, take over for me!" Evictus ordered. With the Treejumper preventing Hiccup from moving his legs, Evictus darted over to the boy's torso and carefully ran a claw down the armor, splitting it apart. He and Toothless then ripped the armor and clothes off of Hiccup's chest, allowing easy access to the wound.
"Is it better now?" Shamrock asked. Toothless ignored him and went on licking the wound.
A loud noise and flashes of light made all the dragons jump and look at Berk. It looked like the Vikings were lighting the large torches that lined the watchtowers, something they only did during night attacks.
"Do you think they've seen us?" Grimm asked.
"If they have, it'll only take one lucky shot to finish him—and us. We've got to get him out of here!" Midnight urged. "Is he strong enough to travel?"
Toothless, who had been licking the wound even more frantically, snapped his head up. "Anyone not holding onto him go take out those catapults, or distract them, or burn a ship or two! I don't care, just buy us some time and be careful!"
For the first time in 8 years Berk was getting a dragon raid, but Toothless's order to be careful kept most of the dragons from going the full distance. They were content to hover just out of arrow range and swoop around while the Vikings tried to bring them down. A decade ago a raid of this size would have been put down easily, but the Vikings were a bit out of practice and their defenses were not in the best shape.
Stoick was screaming orders left and right, while Gobber was following him trying to get him to stop. Stoick himself was more concerned with trying to drive the dragons away and putting out the fires; he probably did not even realize that the catapults were aiming at the seastack the injured Hiccup was on. All Stoick saw was a group of dragons on a seastack that had to be driven off.
Then two Gronkles flung themselves into the roof of Mead Hall and made it cave in. The Thorsten Twins threw themselves onto the ground and began worshiping the wreckage before them.
"All Hail the Dragon King, the True Creator of Destruction and the True Disciple of Loki!"
Up on the seastack Hiccup finally stopped jerking about. "Is he stable enough now?" Grimm shouted.
"Chance it!" Toothless shouted back. "Get him on my back—GENTLY!"
It took them a few minutes of bickering to figure out how to do that. Finally Grimm and Persephone picked him up in their claws, lifted him into the air, and then lowered him onto the Night Fury. They had barely finished when another boulder flew at them. This one was considerably lower than the last one had been.
"I was hoping we were out of range!" Midnight groaned,
"They won't miss next time!" Shamrock yelled.
"They will if we aren't here!" Toothless replied, "Let's go!" He shouted the orders to retreat.
Less than a minute after they had taken off a boulder smashed right into the sea stack. Less than a minute after that had happened every dragon had vanished into the night.
As soon as the Dragons were gone and the fires were put out, Gobber had gone right up to Stoick in the square and shouted "'Ow could ya do such a thing?"
"What?"
"Ya know wat I mean! Ya jest killed yer own son! Ah know the two of ye haven't seen eye ta eye much, but ah didn't think it was bad enuff fer ya ta do somethin' like that!"
Stoick just looked at him like a duck that had been hit on the head.
"Wat were ya thinkin'? I thought ya wanted 'im back!"
"My son—is dead, so he can't come back, now can he?"
"And whose fault is that?" Nobody on Berk knew if Hiccup had died of his wound or not, but most assumed (and men like Spitelout most likely hoped) that he had.
Spitelout joined them. "That man made 'is choices. 'E betrayed us and jained the enemy. Lookit wot they just did ta Berk! There's only one punishment, Gobber!"
"And why did 'e decide to side with dragons? Who drove 'im to that? Ya 'eard 'im, if 'e betrayed us we asked fer it by abandoning 'im!"
"Leave me alone!" Stoick shouted frantically, "I need time to think about this!" He tried to look authoritative, but the fact was he only beginning to come to truly realize what had just happened.
But Gobber had known Stoick long enough to not be too intimidated by him. "All right, supposin' the King wasn't 'Iccup, even so, 'ow could ya do that to 'im? Where was the Viking 'honor' in sending fake notes to 'im and tryin' to capture 'im? Lookit what happened because of it!" He gestured to the parts of Berk. Many ships were badly damaged, a number of defenses were destroyed, and Mead Hall was almost completely ruined. "Did ya not think that maybe those dragons wouldn't like it? That maybe they'd come fer revenge, even if ya caught 'im? And fer what? What could we 'ave gained from 'im as a prisoner that we wouldn't 'ave gained from 'im as an ally?"
Spitelout shouted back "Why would we a-lie with them beasts? I'd not object to controlling them and using them, but I'll never a-lie with them!"
"They killed my wife!" Stoick suddenly bellowed.
"And wat 'bout the wives 'ere now? Did ya think of them before ya risked condemning all of 'em to death? Ya lied to the Dragon King, tried to capture 'im, and killed 'im. Ah reckon those dragons will wanna destroy Berk for this, and if they don't soon it'll be a miracle! That's what yer revenge has done fer us, Stoick! That an' not treatin' yer son fairly!"
"That boy—"
"That boy was a nice lad an' a brilliant blacksmith! That's more than ah ken say for the man that was supposed to raise 'im!" With that Gobber stormed away. Stoick watched him go impassively.
His plan could not be kept secret any longer, but he left Spitelout to tell it to everyone. They gathered in the Village center and learned in more detail that the intention had been to capture the Dragon King alive to use for leverage and as a hostage, and that virtually nobody had been told until the last minute so that no eavesdropping dragons could give the plan away. Stoick then told them, in an emotionless tone, that they would rebuild as they always had done, and that he never wanted to hear his son mentioned again.
But as morning dawned Stoick walked through the village alone. As he walked he looked upon the homes and structures that had escaped the damage. Some of them he had built himself. As he stared at them he felt it had all been for nothing; that these buildings, and the rest of Berk which he had built over the years, would all fall apart and be destroyed soon, just as the roof of Mead Hall had been. The dreams and ambitions that had consumed his thoughts a week ago suddenly seemed foolish and hopeless now. He felt like a man who was starting to sober up and was wishing he had never gotten drunk to begin with. And it was all because he had never understood his only child. And he could not stop the tears flowing down his cheeks. Dear Odin, what had he done?
It was not easy getting six dragons into Hiccup's room, but Toothless refused to leave his side, and the others were eager to find out what was happening. They gathered around Hiccup's bed and while Toothless explained as best as he could what had happened. In return Midnight explained their part in the night's events.
"We had landed in a different part of the forest by the seashore. We had no idea of what was going on until we saw the fires at sea."
"And then we knew for certain that it was all a trap." Shamrock spoke with his teeth clenched.
"I really hate it when I'm right in these matters," Grimm said bitterly. Toothless nodded and said with equal bitterness. "And now they know who he is."
"But how did they pull this off without us knowing?" Evictus shouted in frustration.
"Those messages," Shamrock said darkly. "The Chief was writing instructions for how to capture him. That's the only explanation I can think of."
Illiteracy had always been a flaw in their scouting system, but since Vikings seldom wrote much that was of interest to them, and they could, in theory, intercept letters for The King to read, they haven't really had to worry much about it until now. The King had sometimes brought up the idea of teaching the Terrors how to read Norse runes, but he had never had the time and he was the only one there who could teach them.
"We're fixing that as soon as he's better," Toothless announced determinedly.
"I cannot understand," Persephone moaned, "why do humans act in such fashions? His own sire tried to capture and murder him!"
"Humans," Grimm scoffed, "if it weren't for him, I'd never believe a human was capable of anything decent."
They watched the rise and fall of Hiccup's chest. There was no peace or comfort on his face.
"He passed out shortly after we started flying," Toothless mumbled, "I lost count of how many times I thought he had died. And each time I thought he had—I started to think of what I would do without him—and I hate having to think of that!" He moaned and hid his head beneath his paws. "What would I do if he died? What would any of us do?"
"But he is not dead." Persephone said gently, "his recovery has begun and soon—"
"Soon we'll have to deal with Berk. Yet another enemy." Midnight finished bitterly. "They won't forget tonight,"
"And just think! Less than a day ago we thought we were on the brink of success with everything!" Shamrock stomped a foot.
"And now things will be worse than before," Toothless said darkly, "tonight's events won't go unnoticed. All of our enemies are going to hear about it within days. And who knows what will happen then."
Astrid was sitting on a barrel, staring out at the sunrise. She hated seeing Berk on mornings like these, after a raid when the smoke was still rising from destroyed structures. Fishlegs were standing nearby, looking at her strangely.
"Did you know about the plan?" he suddenly asked.
"What?"
"Did you know Stoick was planning that trap?"
She considered her answer first. "No. He never said a word about it to me." If she had she would have opposed it and tried to prevent it. Perhaps Stoick had suspected that. When he had announced that they were going to accept the King's Terms—Hiccup's Terms—she had believed him. That and gaining the Chiefdom had made her so happy those past days she had been oblivious to anything devious going on. She imagined Hiccup had felt the same way when he had gotten that letter.
Hours had passed since the return to the Sanctuary. Toothless refused to leave the room for any reason. The others flitted in and out, mostly to hunt and reassure other dragons, then returning to see how things were going, often bringing some fish with them for their Beta. Only Midnight and Toothless were present when Hiccup finally woke up.
"Thank the worlds of ice!" Midnight cried.
"How are you feeling?" Toothless asked urgently.
"Horrible…what happened?" Hiccup asked groggily. The two dragons exchanged uneasy looks.
"How much do you remember?" Toothless asked.
"I…took off my mask…and then…" he looked around and his eyes fell upon his shoulder. "I'm guessing by the makeshift bandage job someone shot me?"
"Threw a spear at you, actually,"
"Oh, well, that's all right…" Hiccup leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Despite the long sleep, he looked and sounded exhausted. "So Berk betrayed us, did they? Yes, they did. I'm starting to remember now. And I thought they were going to side with us…I thought things were going to change…I thought…"
Toothless tried to sound optimistic. "Well, it doesn't matter for the moment. What matters is you're alive, and you'll be right as rain in a few days!" he hopped up onto the bed, nearly breaking it as he did so, and gave Hiccup a great big lick on the face.
"Augh, Toothless!" Hiccup playfully pushed the dragon away from him, and then winced. Toothless's playful mood vanished instantly.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine, I'm just a bit…I feel kinda weird."
"Well, you've been through a lot and you're still recovering. Sorry, I shouldn't have made you exert yourself, I'm just really happy to see you're alive!"
Hiccup petted his best friend sadly. "It's nice to know someone in the world cares that I exist." His memory was still a bit vague on what had happened, but what was coming back was not very encouraging for his morale.
"Hey, we all do here! Speaking of which, Midnight, go let everyone know he's awake!"
"Did I lose any blood? I feel kinda woozy."
Toothless laughed dryly, "I imagine any spear wound would cause anyone to lose some blood."
"Oh right. You know, if I lost too much, maybe you could put some of your own into me. Then we'd be blood brothers and I'd be part dragon! I could record my condition and leave it for posterity. Of course, who knows if that's what would actually happen? And if I turned into a dragon I wouldn't need you anymore, so that wouldn't be much fun for either or us—"
"He's rambling," Midnight whispered to Toothless.
"Give him a few minutes. He's in his analytical mindset right now."
"It would be the first time anyone's ever recorded such a thing. Hah! I'll bet Fishlegs would love to read that one day, and I'll bet the Twins would….would…" he stopped. Memories were coming back to him. "Toothless, Berk betrayed us, yes?"
Toothless nodded reluctantly.
"Tried to trap me and use me as a hostage to control dragons and make Berk the most powerful tribe in existence, yes?"
"Yes."
"I showed my face to them and told them the truth, yes?"
"Yes."
"I fought with Astrid…but I think that was staged for the most part. I wonder why she decided to do that. I fought with Snotlout; that was real. I nearly fought with my father…my father—and he threw a spear at me, yes?" His voice was as hard and cold as metal now.
"Yes." Spoken like the hammer talking to the coffin it was pounding nails into.
Hiccup stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then, with a shrug and a groan, he heaved himself out of bed.
"What are you doing? You shouldn't be—"
"Where are my clothes?"
"We kind of might have destroyed them trying to get them off of you." Toothless admitted.
"It's okay, I've got more." He staggered to a chest and began putting clothes on. A simple loose shirt and a pair of pants were all he could get on the moment. His efforts to dress himself were accompanied by more groans and winces every time he moved his left arm or shoulder.
"Hiccup, you really shouldn't—"
"Don't call me that!" The Dragon King rounded on him. "I've never liked that name! Don't use it!"
"Ok, ok!" Both dragons shrank into a corner at the sudden outburst. The King put a hand to his forehead and swayed a little. Toothless came forward and looked him square in the face.
"You need to rest," he ordered.
"I'm fine, Bud."
"Like I'm going to believe that."
He ignored him and mumbled to himself. "I thought my flightsuit was strong enough to repell weapons. We've tested it against arrows before! Guess I didn't factor in an enraged Viking's throwing arm. Maybe the material was getting too worn. I probably would have been killed if I hadn't been wearing it. Well, I'll just have to build a better flightsuit."
He had a look at his desk. Digging through a pile of parchment he discovered the letters Stoick had written to him. He glared at them for a minute and crumpled them up.
"Go ahead and burn these, Bud. We're finished with Berk."
"And the other Tribes?"
The King turned to look at the wall and to learn on it. "We're done with all Vikings. No more treaties and Peace Terms. From now on we're looking after our island and letting everyone else take care of their own problems, just like we were doing before that stupid council came about."
"That's a bit extreme, isn't it?" Midnight asked carefully.
"Maybe. I might relent later but for the moment—say, where's Inferno?" He spoke with such calmness that Toothless suddenly knew it was not genuine. "Ah, here it is. A very good blade, you know? You should have seen their faces when I pulled it out on that island." He looked at the seemingly bladeless hilt and smiled, as if admiring the craftsmanship of it. Then his eyes hardened. His smile faded. His grip on the blade tightened. His entire body began to tremble. He ignited the blade and with a roar he slammed it into the wall over and over again, hacking away at the stone as if it was nothing. Sparks and chips of stone flew into the air. Again and again he struck, all the while screaming. He shouted and screamed and roared louder than Toothless had ever thought possible.
"Hiccup!"
"Don't call me that! That's not my name. I have no name! I have no family, friends, or tribe who are human! I am a Dragon Trainer! Let those people tear each other to pieces—I want no part of it! I'm done with Vikings and Berk forever! They didn't want me anyway, so why should they care whose side I'm on?"
Then, just as suddenly as he had begun, he stopped. He stepped back to look at the wall he had just destroyed. It was covered in deep gashes glowing orange and red. He abruptly pulled a wooden chest from under his bed and flung it opened. Inside it were some of the remaining possessions he'd had while living on Berk. He raised his sword.
"Don't!" Toothless shouted, knocking it out of his hands with his tail. "If you destroy those you'll regret it later, you know that! And you won't be able to change it!"
"Why should I care? What are these but a bunch of reminders of a horrible life?" He dug out a portrait he'd drawn of Astrid and the others kids his age. "What is this but a pointless dream?" He picked up a tiny axe. "Here's a childhood gift from a father who never wanted me! Here's a journal full of all the names people have called me! Why should I keep any of these?"
"Because, horrible as they might be, they're a part of what made you the person you are today."
"And just who am I today, Toothless?"
His face went from rage to uncertainty to heartbreak in a matter of seconds.
"WHY?"
He fell to the ground in a dead faint.
Authors Notes:
A lot of people complained about the cliff hanger ending for the last chapter, so this time I took pity and spared you all another one. Originally this was two chapters and the dividing point was where Hiccup gets the spear thrown at him.
I think everybody reads these 'Hiccup runs away' stories primarily for the big reveal moment. I hope my version was done satisfactorily. And just to clarify, this is not the end of this story. Not even close.
Hiccup asks Stoick a question in this chapter that is based on my own thoughts when watching the first movie. In the scene immediately after Stoick disowns Hiccup, when he has that painful look on his face and reels backwards, I've sometimes wondered if Stoick is reacting that way because he's just lost his son or because he's just lost the son he thought he finally had? Or is it both?
And to the reader called Aiacco: you mentioned in a previous review about a scene with Mildew and Snotlout not making sense. I would like to know exactly what you mean so I can correct this.
Until next time, then!