Chapter 20

Maybe I should have rethought perching on Astrid's shoulder. Everyone knew what the Gathering had been about, but they hadn't been there for the actual show. Meaning, I was now in the sights of some very confused, and some very angry Vikings. In a way, I was glad this whole turning-into-a-dragon thing had happened. If they were this upset seeing me, imagine how they would feel knowing there was a full-grown Night Fury running around. Not to mention, Toothless wasn't nearly as patient – or trusting - as me.

I could see it in the way they moved, hear it in the way they spoke . . . I could just see it in everything. I had no idea if it was real or my imagination, but once I had become aware of that first sign of danger, everyone seemed dangerous. Every approach seemed to be a feint; every harsh word seemed to be accompanied by a glance at me. I huddled against Astrid's neck, trying to hide myself behind her hair.

"They'll ease up," Dad said. "Once they hear from their chiefs what happened, they'll respect it."

Not soon enough for me.

"That will be nice," Astrid said. "But I guess we still have to worry about the Fiends. I'm surprised they didn't show up."

Dad shrugged. "The Fiends are hardly real Vikings. Just some fur-trappers and fishermen who prefer our lifestyle over the Roman way."

"As they should," Astrid said, preening. "I –"

"There's my favourite chief!" Somehow, the not-very-small Chief Hagan had managed to sneak up on us. He wrapped his arm around Dad's shoulder, and started leading him off. "Why don't we discuss these dragons of yours?"

"Err, well, Hiccup is the real expert . . ." He bit off that protest midway, knowing it was useless. "Alright. Astrid, I'll see you two back at the boat."

"Guess I'm the one telling everyone the good news," she said.

"You'll be great," I told her happily.

I did my best to act like a harmless little pet from then on. Like a parrot. It was amusing enough that I temporarily forgot why I was acting this way. Until a shadow crossed in front of us, and a Viking, about our age, stood in our path.

"Hey, Astrid."

Part of me wanted to growl. The rest of me knew that was a terrible idea. I couldn't place his tone; it didn't sound hostile, but I could tell he wanted something. His gaze was too intense for anything else.

Astrid groaned. "I already told you: I'm not interested, Cael."

The boy – Cael – didn't seem bothered by her rejection. His smile took up half his face. He reeked of arrogance. He could go away now, thank you very much!

"Aw, Astrid. Loosen up. Nobody has to know. It's not like your little pet can talk."

Oh, he had no idea. I snapped at his finger when he tried to scratch me.

"Go away," she said. Her voice was dull, telling Cael that he wasn't even worth getting angry at.

"Hey!" He hurried to keep up as she kept walking. "I get it, you know. Politics. Hiccup's the heir. Blah, blah, blah. But we both know you don't really like him, so why not have some fun?"

She neatly spun around and grabbed his wrist in her hand. Smiling innocently, she said, "I'll give you five seconds to leave. If you don't, you will have an unfortunate accident."

Heh. It was always funny when Astrid threatened other people.

He took the hint. He wrenched his arm back, and rubbed his wrist tenderly. "Just trying to do you a favour. You said it yourself: he's Hiccup the Useless."

My snickers stopped. What.

Under my paws, Astrid's shoulders went rock-hard. Even though I could feel heat rising from her, colour had drained from her face. She didn't say anything, and the only reason Cael didn't notice something was wrong was because he was walking away from us.

"Astrid . . . ?"

At the sound of my keen, she flinched. "It's not what you think."

But it was. She just confirmed it.

"Wait!"

It was so easy to jump off her shoulder and disappear into the bush. I should have been more worried about being caught by the other Vikings, but I wasn't. I just wanted, needed to be alone. I didn't want to see her guilt. I didn't want to hear her apologies. I just wanted to be alone.

Somehow, for all these years, I had always believed she was different. That she had never really thought of me as that. Stupid. It must have been the crush talking. Of course she had. Everyone had.

"Stop!"

I ignored her. Right now, I just needed to process.

But, try as I might, my super-hearing couldn't block out Astrid's voice. It was like she was speaking on a frequency designed to pierce through my eardrums.

"Hiccup, please. I know you're upset, but you have to understand. It was a long time ago, and I was angry and . . . I was being stupid, okay? I didn't mean any of it. Hiccup?"

I burrowed deeper into the dirt.

She continued to hunt for another half hour, and it made me do nothing but want to hide. When she gave up and left, there was a void left behind. I wasn't that angry. Could I really be mad at her for saying that? I guess, theoretically, sure. But it wasn't like she was the first. Or alone.

Or that I didn't deserve it.

An icy scent hit me. That was all the warning I got before Toothless uncovered me. He barked, shaking in that weird imitation of a dog's wagging tail.

"Uh, Toothless, do you mind? I was in the middle of sulking."

He grumbled and licked me from shoulder to tail. That was Toothless for you. Always knowing what to say.

"Must have really spooked Astrid if she sent you out to find me."

Maybe I did, but I didn't feel like going back.

"Come on. Let's get out of here."

We found a small cove by the shore, a small reminder of the place Toothless and I had truly met. There was a small indent in a spot carved into a half-sphere, and that's where Toothless decided to curl up. The top passed over us, blocking my view of the sky. I rested on his flank, just underneath his wing. He stunk of burned wood. Odin knew what kind of mischief he had gotten into when I was gone.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be human?" I asked him. "I bet you'd be like Dad; popping off dragon heads right after he was born . . . No, I 've never seen him do that. But I bet he could. If he wanted to. You'd be like him: all courage and muscle."

Toothless purred, understanding nothing.

"Maybe you should have been the human, and me the dragon. I seem to be doing a pretty good job at it."

He stretched. His back paws kneaded the wall.

"Oh, come here, you big lug. I need comfort."

Toothless was happy to oblige. He wrapped his front legs around me, imitating the hug he so often saw us Vikings do. He gnawed on my head. Lovingly.

He stopped suddenly, and crooned. I then became aware of the panting behind me.

"Sneaky?"

He chittered to himself, excited. Then he swooped back toward the open, shrouding himself in sunlight before landing on the arm of none other than the Chief of Berk.

My ears drooped. Oh, boy.

But he didn't smell angry. He kneeled down before Toothless and locked eyes with Toothless, silently asking for permission. As if Toothless was my father, and not him.

"Heard that you and Astrid had a bit of a tiff."

Sure, if you wanted to call it that. Hard to have a fight when one party can't talk.

"I know what happened. Astrid told me everything." He sat against the corner of the entrance to Toothless's little burrow, so that I could only see the right half of him. His back blocked the light, leaving it dark as the sun traced an odd, shining path along the bottom of his chin. "I know you don't like hearing those things, but these aren't our people. They only think they know you."

I scratched into the dirt: They won't let it go. Normally, I would have added something sarcastic, but writing took too long.

"Of course not. Everything's a fight with Vikings. Insults are just another battle. We all do it, but it doesn't mean what they say are true."

I growled, and shook my head. Not me.

Dad turned his head. The light bounced off his eye and reflected sympathy. "Hiccup, you enjoy calling him Nobert the Nutjob as much as anyone. We didn't give him that name for fun."

I wanted to deny it, but couldn't after remembering how I had laughed at him in my head earlier.

"They don't matter," he said. "Berk trusts you. That's all you need to care about."

Before, I scrawled.

"You were a strange kid. You know that as well I as do. And when you starting building things that destroyed other people's homes . . . well, it was too much trouble on top of all the trouble from the dragon raids. The dragons didn't stick around for them to yell at, so they went after you."

When I just stared at him, he took a deep breath and continued. "You don't need to know all the reasons. They love you now. That should be enough."

I wasn't sure. My insides were like the raging sea: cold and violent. Toothless stirred uneasily, aware of my turmoil, but unable to figure out what was going on.

"We all hate the person we used to be." With a smile, Dad said, "Yes, even me. I should have been more patient with you. Maybe then there wouldn't have been so many wasted years . . ."

No. No. I shook my head violently and hissed. That wasn't true. I had always loved him, even during the pre-Toothless years. He was my father. I didn't want him any different.

"I pushed you too hard," he rattled on. "Did you know that when you were just a baby, I could hold you in one hand? You were such a wee thing, and born in such dangerous times. The Elder didn't think you would last through the winter. But you did. That's you: always full of surprises. But you were still so small, and so many great men and women had died in the raids . . .

"I tried so hard to hide you away and make you into something you weren't. I convinced myself I was the only way. And if that meant I had to see you unhappy, so be it. As long as you survived." He choked and wiped his eyes. "That was all that mattered to me."

"Dad . . ." I put my paw on his knee, and looked straight into his eyes. There was no disguising his tears now.

He said, "I've already lost your mother. I can't imagine losing you, too."

Mom. I couldn't remember her face, but still felt the ache. I crawled into his lap, laid my head against him, and listened to his quiet sobs.

Dragons couldn't cry; but for a moment, I didn't believe that.

She was waiting for me on the ship, as I knew she would be. When Astrid wanted something, she didn't give up for anything. Seeing her almost made me feel nostalgic, as if it was possible to go back in time and pretended I hadn't heard Cael.

It was just me and Gobber walking onto the deck (he had come looking for Dad and I after he heard what had happened). Dad was waiting in the woods with Toothless. We had lucked out when Toothless had gone looking for me, and Dad didn't want to chance him being seen when he returned to the ship. So, the two of them would wait for night. I would have waited with them, but I wanted to settle things with Astrid.

Oh, and Sneaky was flying somewhere far above. Terrors were common enough, even around here, that no one would notice.

"Hey," Astrid said quietly.

I was perched on Gobber's bicep the way Sneaky had been on Dad's. My tail, hanging straight down before, started to curl around his arm.

"I'll leave you two," Gobber said. He jerked his arm, sending me falling into Astrid.

When the clops of his footsteps faded into silence, I jumped out of her arms and onto the ship's rail. We stared at each other, waiting.

"I don't blame you for being mad," she said. "But that happened a long time ago. It was . . . I don't even remember what you did . . . it slipped out. It was just the spur of the moment. I didn't mean for it to get out, but Ruffnut overheard . . ."

She bowed her head. "I'm sorry, Hiccup. If I could take it back, I would."

"It's okay, Astrid." I nuzzled her hand. "I forgive you."

She smiled. She said something, but I don't know what. Because right when she started to speak, the wind changed directions. It brought with it the usual smell of salt water and wood and people, but there was something else. Something wrong. The spicy, sour odour of adrenaline floated towards us like a mist. There were too many people.

I smelled metal.

My body reacted: arching my back and making my wings flare. I growled, even before I tried to peer around the deckhouse and figure out what was going on. Astrid spun around, reaching for the axe strapped to her belt. I could see the hairs on her arm rising.

"Hiccup, what is it?"

I . . . I wasn't sure. Something was there, though. My instincts could tell.

I saw them. There were Vikings leaving one of the docked ships. They didn't seem odd, but even looking at them made me shiver. The wrongness surrounded them in a black aura.

Then, I saw the ship's flag: a spiked dragon spitting lightning.

"Astrid, the Berserks!"

"Everyone, arm yourselves!" She ran and planted herself in the middle of the plank that connected our ship to land. The other Vikings rose from their relaxed positions, switching into fighting mode seamlessly. Gobber flung open the trapdoor to below deck, hollered down it, and then went to stand next to Astrid.

The way Dagur moved, it seemed more animal than human. He hunched over slightly at the shoulders, and his gaze was dark and direct, focused only on what was in front of him. His bare arms moved back and forth in time with his steps; the muscles on them flexing accordingly. He stopped at the base of the plank, and his hands curled into fists. The fingernails scraped against his palm like claws against rock.

Astrid walked halfway down the plank. "What do you want?"

"Where's Stoick?" Dagur spat. Literally. I saw it.

"That's none of your concern."

He paced irritably across the short width of the plank. It was like watching a cornered animal whose one escape route had been blocked. "He's not here, is he?"

I could taste bloodlust. It flowed out of the Vikings – both ours and theirs - like a flood, slopping over the deck and coating everything in an invisible, musky slime. Ferocity sparked between the two groups. Berk may have been the tribe of peace, but every man and woman here came from pure Viking stock. Our very blood was infused with the aggression and viciousness that had given the berserkers their legacy.

"If I were you, I'd think carefully about this," Gobber warned. "We're all here on friendly terms. There's not supposed to be fighting at a time like this. The Raiders wouldn't like it."

"I don't care about them!" Dagur said. "Chief Hagan's a coward . . . this has nothing to do with him. You owe me a dragon."

I growled as menacingly as I could. It didn't reassure Astrid, who shoved me off the rail and out of sight.

"Over my dead body," she said.

Even before she finished speaking, I knew what would happen: Dagur would take her words to heart as a challenge.

He lunged with a wild cry. And that was all I saw before I was caught in a rush of thundering feet.

Crash. Instinct ripped my tail out of the way, right before a leather-cladded foot would have squashed it against the ground. The pull of instinct - of that feral, violent desire for life – tossed me against the side of the ship where it was safer. Still not enough. I could feel the air tremble from the stampede. Feet stepped so close that they seemed to move in slow motion.

"Get him out of here!" I heard Astrid cry out.

Something grabbed me. I twisted and bit down. Tasted blood.

Fishlegs yelped. He fell back against the rail, clutching his bleeding hand.

I winced. Sorry.

I was sorry, but in the pandemonium of battle, it was hard to think rationally. There were too many scents, too much sound, too much everything. And blood, too much blood. Blood that was coming from the Berserks; from Berkians; from people I had known since I was born; from friends.

Astrid. Where was Astrid? There was this gaping hole inside me, and I needed her. I needed her. I needed Dad. I needed Toothless. I needed to see them and smell them; to snuggle up close and listen to their heartbeat.

I climbed to the top of the rail. Then immediately ducked down when I saw the faces staring at me. Then peered over again. I was at an impasse. My muddled mind said: Move! Find family. My body refused. Too much danger, it warned. Be small. Be still. Maybe no one will notice you.

Splashing. There were people in the water, swimming for shore after they had been tossed off the plank. Friend or foe? I didn't know. But they weren't Astrid. They weren't Dad, or Toothless. I looked away.

Another pair of hands grabbed me. These ones had learned. One arm swooped under and held me from there; the other kept my jaws shut.

Danger. DANGER! my mind shrieked. Legs and wings flailed, looking to climb, run, fly . . . whatever they had to do. Fire boiled in my chest.

"I'm fine," a voice said. "You go help the others."

The familiar voice wormed its way into my consciousness for a second. Then it was gone. It wasn't family. Wasn't safe.

"Stop squirming!" The Voice said.

I would not. I expressed that clearly.

Then, we were weightless. Only for an instant and then I realized that the Viking holding me had hopped over the rail, and the water was approaching very fast. My wings snapped open in time with my tailfin –

The cold water did what nothing else had done: cooled the heat of my wild, dragon instincts. From the moment my head breached the surface again, I could feel the instinct-induced haze rolling off me just as the water did. Snotlout. Snotlout had been the Voice. Now, he was just wet.

I clung to his back as he paddled away from the battle, towards the ships of the Bog-Burglars. I didn't like it at all. There were hooks inside me, pulling insistently back towards our ship. It wasn't dragon instincts acting up now, but the Viking ones of: Fight. Protect. My inner chief, if you will.

I whined loudly when we hit land. So loudly and shrilly it almost turned into a howl. It was one of the only sounds I could make with Snotlout's hand clamped over my snout.

"What?" he demanded.

My front paws moved in little circles, like I was swimming. I kept my eyes locked on the chaotic mass of the two Viking tribes as I continued to whine.

I didn't mean to do it. Of course not. But It's not like my tail ever waited for my brain to give it a command. It, surprisingly strong, whipped sideways into Snotlout's gut. His breath escaped him in a wheeze, and his fingers jumped enough that I slipped through.

I made it one step before he stepped on my tail. It hurt. Although was a distant hurt, actually, like beforehand I had laid my tail in ice for a while.

"Get off!" I snapped at him.

He looked at me. Looked at the ship. Looked back, and it finally seemed to click.

"Uh, Hiccup, maybe you weren't listening, but they're after you."

Wasn't everyone? No, seriously. There had been Alvin, and Dagur, and every random person ever who wanted to train dragons. Flattering, but starting to get rather annoying.

I grumbled at him, telling him to let me go back and help in a language he couldn't understand. He didn't looked amused, and picked me up by the wings.

"Astrid says you need to hide."

I growled. More than anyone (except Dad), it was hard for me to disagree with Astrid. That's probably why he said it. Still, these were my people we were talking about. Even disregarding the fact I was the heir, as a Viking of a Berk, I was responsible for them.

Not that Snotlout felt the same way. "If you're on that ship, they're just going to grab you. And Astrid and your Dad will kill us. We're going."

I whined, but didn't fight further.

The sounds of the battle grew faint as he carried us into the woods.

Review Responses:

Guest: Okay, just checking. I've only seen the second movie once and didn't connect too well with Hiccup's mom (although I love the idea of her character), so I thought I might have missed something.

Jazz: Well, in Snotlout's mind, yes. But Stoick wouldn't have allowed it. Nobody's allowed to usurp his son. As for the twins, I think having their dragon might have actually calmed them down a bit. They could blow off steam by playing keep-away with other people things instead of destroying them :)

sweattea1: Thanks! But you haven't seen the second movie yet? Whoops, didn't know that. I hope I haven't spoiled anything for you.

Flicker Guest: You are excused ;) And yes, there will be more dragons. In the future. The next few chapters will have a relative lack of dragons (barring old Hiccup, of course ;p).