Chapter 31

" . . . Best we keep the animals inside for the time being. We don't want to be wrangling a stampede when the Berserkers are on our shore."

I listened diligently as Dad spoke to the other two Vikings. Even if some of the things he said were a little boring. Just because I listened didn't mean I paid attention. What I did take time to pay attention to, however, were the defense plans. Unlike many of our other opponents, the Berserkers were unpredictable. Any sensible enemy would want the element of surprise, like say, a raid at night, or an ambush from the woods. The Berserkers might go with that, or they just might launch a full-scale attack in the middle of the day for thrills. We would need guards posted every hour (thankfully, we had territorial dragons to ease that burden).

"Alright," Gobber said. "And what about this unknown rider?"

All eyes turned to my father. Spitelout's eyebrows grew closer together, but that was the only sign of emotion on his face.

With what seemed to be great reluctance, Dad said, "We will have to deal with Bludvist's scheme, but the Berserkers are the immediate threat. We will give them a week. If that time passes and there is no sign that they are going to attack us, then we will send a couple of Vikings to see to this rider; Astrid knows the way, so I suggest we send her, and perhaps one of the adults."

"Eh? She just got back, and we're going to send her off again?" Gobber chewed on a toothpick, unconcerned. We all knew what the answer would be.

"She won't mind."

"What about Hiccup?" Gobber jerked his thumb at me. "You going to send him along, too?"

"No. I'd rather he stay here where we can keep an eye on him."

They spoke some more. I tuned them out. In my head, I was listening to half-formed conversations, glimpses of the future. Gobber and Spitelout knew nothing of Valka and Snotlout – I had left that out of the report. But once they were gone, Dad . . .

I swallowed. As painful as it was to think about my mother, it was his right to know.

"That's all for now," Dad said. "Spitelout, tell the other warriors about our defense plans. Gobber, you take the first watch."

"Alrighty, Stoick!"

And they were gone. Just me, Dad and the dragons now, and the dragons had curled up together for a nap. Dad grabbed a bucket of water, walked over to the fire pit, and emptied it over the hot coals. The room plunged into darkness with a vicious hiss, until Dad pulled the shutters from the windows. Cool, sun-kissed air mixed with the scent of charcoal.

"Dad?" I ran my claws down his elbow.

"Hmm?"

The quill was lying by the edge of the table. The tip had gone dry, but there were a couple of black dots from where it had dripped earlier. I picked it up, dipped it, grabbed another piece of paper, and wrote.

When I was done, he looked at it. He was silent for a long time.

I said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away."

Then, Dad did something weird. Really weird. He laughed. It wasn't a real laugh, but one of those short, hacking sounds that you could tell was just an attempt to cover up how he really felt. "Haven't met another person with that name for a long time. She liked that one because it was unusual . . . but it was only a matter of time."

"Dad, that's not what I meant!" I didn't meant to, but I flared my wings.

"Hiccup?"

I ripped the paper out of his hands, and went to work clarifying.

I had thought Dad had been silent for a long time before, but that was nothing compared to now.

"This . . . this can't be."

I swear that the entire house shook when he collapsed into a chair.

"I saw it, Hiccup. It happened in front of me, right there." He pointed up at the ceiling, at the second floor. "The dragon killed her. It . . . Valka alive? I don't understand . . . are you certain?"

I couldn't meet his eyes as I nodded.

"Valka's alive." His voice was airy, like a soft sigh. "My wife's alive."

The laughter came straight from his core. It was too much for him to handle; he put his head in his hands as if trying to contain it. When he looked up again, his eyes were glassy with tears.

"Hiccup, she's alive."

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, breaking apart when they hit the scraggy mess of his beard. One hand hovered over his mouth, and his fingertips rested on flushed cheeks. His shoulders shook; he had to whip out a handkerchief to blow his nose. I hadn't seen him like this for ages.

"Dad . . ."

It happened so suddenly that I nearly bit him. One moment I was chirping at him. The next, I was being crushed against a massive chest. The arm locking me in place was like a boulder sitting on my back; my ribs actually hurt. I could feel every one of his sobs, every hiccupping laugh that struggled to be heard. I kneaded his skin, needing to feel something under my claws.

"Your mother's coming back." Dad wiped his eyes. "I doubt she'll recognize the place. It was burnt down and rebuilt so many times over the years. Oh, but the Arena is still around! She'll love what you've done with it. She always had a soft spot for dragons."

What I felt at that moment was something close to pity. Dad didn't get it. He was expecting a teary reunion with his wife, and then a rewind back to the early days. But I had already tried that, and look where it got me. He didn't get that Valka had changed. She didn't want to be here anymore. She had her Nest to take care of.

I blinked, and pulled my claws away before they drew blood. There was a bitter taste in the back of my throat.

"We'll have to clean up a bit. Get a new bed. Mine's barely big enough for me." He was halfway out the door when he paused mid-step. "The Berserkers . . . Alright. I've waited a long time. I can wait another week."

"You really think it's going to be that easy," I muttered to myself.

"There will have to be a change of plans, then," he said, stepping back into the house. "Astrid will have to stay here and help Gobber and Spitelout, and you and me will have a family reunion. You know the way, right?"

I didn't understand. Dad was acting like it was his first Snoggletog. His voice bounced off the walls like it was a physical thing. The tears had dried from his face. His face was still red, but it was more the warm flush of overexertion or too many drinks. How could he just accept it? I would have expected him to act like this if she had just been missing for a few days, but we were talking about years here. That didn't even seem to occur to him. How could he stand there and be so . . . happy?

The thought hit me like a bucket of ice water: that was the proper response, wasn't it? I should have been happy to learn my mom was alive. I definitely hadn't been though. Was something wrong with me?

My aura was pungent enough that even Dad picked up on it. "It'll be fine, Hiccup. You'll see. It'll be like the old days, if you can remember them. She'll get a shock because of your little dragon problem, but she'll come around! Don't you worry."

My eyes burned. Even though I knew no tears could fall from them, I wrenched them shut, pushed away and leapt back onto the table. He didn't understand. He hadn't been there. He didn't understand.

Dad bent over so that we are at eye-level. "Hiccup, is this about your helmet? Are you worried that she'll find out what it's made from? She won't be mad. She'll think it's sweet -"

"No! It's not that!"

Even if I had my voice, I don't think I would have been able to put my feelings into words. My body didn't really know how to express them either. I wanted . . . I needed . . . I needed to cry. But my body didn't know how, and the pressure built up behind my eyes until my head ached. I tried to press my hands against my temple, hoping to ease the pain. I ended up falling chin-first.

"Hiccup!"

"I'm fine." I ignored his outstretched hand. The sharp pain of bone hitting wood had dulled the pain in my mind.

Dad swallowed. He wasn't happy anymore. I could smell the sweat trickling into his scent as he fretted. Great job, Hiccup. Way to kill the mood.

Toothless whined. My fall had woken him and Skullcrusher. Dad's partner was already curling back into a ball, but Toothless had wandered over. He balanced on his hind legs with his front paws on the table, watching me with attentive green eyes. He probably didn't need scent to guess what I was feeling. His teeth shot back into their sockets as he leaned over, and closed his mouth over me. With only my head sticking out, he gently lifted me off the table and settled back onto the floor.

"I'll let you two be," Dad said quietly. He walked over to the window overlooking the village, and stood there. He didn't stir as Toothless carried me out of the room.

When he finally dropped me, it was right on the middle of my bed. I laid there, half-dazed as he curled around me. A rough tongue ran over my head and neck.

What's wrong? he was asking. You're sad.

I leaned back into him, taking comfort from his solid presence. "He doesn't understand. He thinks . . . well, I have no idea what he's thinking, but whatever it is, it isn't right. The dragons didn't kidnap her. Okay, maybe at first, but it was her choice. She . . . Toothless, she wanted it. She wanted to leave us. I don't understand how he . . . I don't understand why it doesn't matter to him!"

I couldn't breathe. There wasn't enough air. Toothless whined again, and furiously licked my heaving flanks.

"She left us. And I can't even talk about it with him because I'm a dragon."

I curled up into a ball, speaking into my own tail.

"All they hear is this babbling, and everyone thinks I'm happy because Hiccup the Dragon Lover is a cute baby dragon and how could he be upset with that? I can't talk to anyone, because nobody can understand me. It takes me a full minute just to tell them I'm hungry. It's like I'm living by myself on an island!"

My chest tightened. I tried to shout, but spat a fireball right into Toothless's side. He growled, but curled around me tighter, unwilling to abandon his post.

"Toothless! Hey, I'm sorry, bud." I took a deep breath. I couldn't smell any injury . . . No, I wasn't going to lick it. Stupid instincts.

Exhausted, I collapsed into him. "I'm sorry, Toothless. I know you're trying, but you can't understand me either. Only the king could, and even he wouldn't get it. He's supposed to be a dragon. I'm not. He's not stuck in a body with senses that he doesn't understand, and bits and pieces of him that he can't control. I shouldn't be like this.

"I just want to be me again."

I finally ran out of words. That allowed my lungs to catch up with my body's demand for air. In. Out. I focused on the pause in-between, savouring the silence.

"Toothless, I don't want to be a dragon anymore."

I didn't cry myself out. Dragons couldn't do that. But eventually I finished hyperventilating or whatever the dragon equivalent of crying was. When it was over, the room we were in – the house – was too small and suffocating. Toothless shadowed me protectively as I shuffled outside, even going so far as to stand between me and Dad. I wasn't too upset about that; he was the last person I wanted to talk to.

It didn't feel very warm, even though the sky was clear and the sun was shining. There was a light fog hanging over the ocean, reflecting the sunlight. None of the dragons flying through it seemed to notice, however. A group of them were following a fishing boat as it pulled into harbour, no doubt hoping they could snatch a fish or two when the villagers weren't looking. I never understood that. It wasn't like there was a lack of fish laying around the village.

The stone steps were slick with rainwater. The ground was saturated with it. Mud oozed out of the cracks between each step, spilling onto the stone. Within those spots, bits of shoes and paw-prints had been preserved. My own were easily told apart from the rest; they were the smallest. That said, they were hard to find, since Toothless had a tendency to step on the same spots.

I straightened up, and looked over my village. It didn't look much different than from when I had first left, but there was a noticeable lack of animals in the fields. The guard-towers were dark, but come tonight, they would be lit for the first time in months. I noticed, too, that the adults seemed to be carrying around more weaponry.

"Let's head out to the woods, bud," I said to Toothless. "I really don't want to face everybody right now."

It was a good plan. The only problem was that everyone else didn't know about it.

Halfway to the forest, our path was cut off. Not on purpose. I'm not even sure if they had seen us there. But Snotlout, tailed closely by his dragon and the twins, ran across our path. Well, Snotlout ran, and the other three stalked him.

"Quit it!" Snotlout barked, and it was hard to tell whom exactly he was speaking to. The twins were following him, pointing and laughing, the usual stuff. But Hookfang, glad to see his rider, probably more than a little pissed off at being abandoned for so long, was doggedly chasing him and gnawing on his head. Snotlout's helmet was the only thing that had saved his hair from looking like he had jumped in a lake. I couldn't tell if this was the helmet he had originally taken to the Raiders' island, or an entirely new one. It shone like a new one, but that might have been because it was covered in strands of dragon saliva.

"Come on, Snotlout," Tuffnut jeered, to the approval of his sister. "You can't take down one puny dragon? I thought you took on an entire warship!"

"I did!" Snotlout claimed. "But – Not the ear! – Hookfang's my dragon. I can't go beating him up like I did the trappers."

The voice got fainter and fainter as they ran further away, but I had heard enough. I didn't know how to react. No, wait. I did.

"I can't believe him!" If what I had just heard was any indication, Snotlout was using the entire incident to brag. And he wasn't even saying what really happened! You know, I hadn't expected much from him. Maybe a little remorse, or empathy – something to indicate there was a human being under all that. I should have known better. Snotlout would be a stupid, blockheaded Viking until the day he died. He'd thrown me to the wolves, then turned around and used it to make himself look better.

"Unbelievable," I hissed. I didn't even get a thank you . . . "Hey, Toothless? Where are you?"

He hadn't gone far. He just went to greet Astrid. Loud purrs rolled through the air as he rubbed up against Astrid's legs.

"Hey, Astrid."

"I'm surprise you're not with your father," she said.

I turned my head automatically to hide a scowl that never came. Should have worried about the growl coming from my chest.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

I shook my head. "It's not him. It's just . . . there's no point in telling you, is there?"

There was a plop. I stared at a stack of parchment. And the quill that had fallen on top of it.

She said, "I thought it might be a smart idea to start carrying those around. So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you."

I didn't think about it long. Seeing Snotlout so carefree had broken a dam inside my mind. I wrote messily and furiously, letting all my resent and frustration seep into my words.

By the time I calmed down enough to really think about what I was doing, I had already wrote too much.

Late afternoon found me in better spirits. I had never been one to hold much of a grudge, so my anger at Snotlout didn't last long - that didn't mean I wasn't angry at him anymore, just that I wasn't currently dwelling on it. It helped, too, that Astrid was now in the know. Even if we couldn't really talk about it, at least she had some idea what was bothering me.

The air above my half-baked rock shimmered in the sun. I'd claimed the entire lower half of it, leaving Toothless with a half that he had to drape himself across like a cloth; his limbs dangled midair. It was his way of being nice after my emotional breakdown earlier. I'm betting it wouldn't last long, however.

"I used to think you guys were just lazy," I said. "But this is actually really comfortable."

It helped, too, that the resident birds were chirping a bright melody against a distant background of crashing waves. They were unhampered; the fishing fleets had returned, complaining that a large whale or something had scared away the fish. In fact, Berk itself seemed to have settled down to listen to the music . . .

Wait. Where was everyone?

I couldn't see anyone. The scents were fresh enough that I knew they hadn't abandoned the village this morning, but wherever they were, it wasn't outside. But I heard a crowd of voices . . .

What were they doing in the Great Hall?

Toothless followed me to the ancient building. The oak doors had been left open just a crack; that's why I had heard them. A deluge of mixed scents poured out of the opening, making the air around it seem thick and hazy.

I walked inside. Dad was seated at the Head Table, face grim, tall and scary-looking. Gobber sat to his right, brow furrowed, hook digging into the wood tabletop. To Dad's left was Gothi, eyes wide as an owl's. It seemed like the rest of the village was seated at the various tables, all facing the Head Table. Everyone but two people. Snotlout, who was standing in front of the Head Table, his back to me. And just in front of him, Astrid.

"What's going on?" I asked loudly.

In his seat, Fishlegs half-turned. "Hey, I found Hiccup!"

Astrid twitched. Just a little. Just enough to let me know she wasn't pleased with this turn of events.

Dad lifted up a piece of paper and spoke. "Hiccup, did you write this?"

It was the confession I had written to Astrid just a couple of hours ago.

"I . . . No, wait! This –"

"He's hesitating!" Her words pierced the air. "You know what that means. It's true, but he's trying to protect Snotlout."

"Oh, no . . . No!" I scrambled forward as Snotlout stumbled away from the Head Table. "Astrid, what are you doing?"

"Is all of this true, Snotlout?" Dad asked.

"I ended up changing my mind!" Snotlout cried. His helmet wobbled unsteadily on his head. "I tried to help him. Look, I kept him safe, didn't I? He came back alright."

"He wouldn't have been in danger if it wasn't for you!" Astrid spat.

"That's enough, Astrid," Dad said firmly, but gently. "You may sit down."

With a stiff, respectful dip of her head, Astrid retreated and sat down next to the twins. She only glanced at me.

I spoke. "Okay, I know this looks really bad . . ."

"Snotlout," Dad said, "is everything Astrid said true?"

"No, it's not!" Snotlout said.

But Dad was unyielding. "Did you tell Dagur the Deranged about Hiccup's situation?"

"Uh, yeah, but . . ."

"Did you plot to kidnap Hiccup with him?"

"I told you, I changed my mind -!"

"But you did."

"Will everyone just listen to me!" I shouted. Behind me, at the threshold, Toothless added his own bark to make sure everyone was paying attention. "Yes, it's true. But he's telling the truth, he changed his mind! He's not the bad guy-"

"It's okay, Hiccup," Dad said. He held a hand up in a 'stop' position. "Astrid's already told me everything."

"No, no! You're not listening. He's not evil!"

"You have betrayed our tribe, Snotlout Jorgenson."

A screech of wood. Spitelout rose to his feet, speaking with frantic tones. "Stoick, please . . ."

Dad didn't even look at his half-brother. "This can't be ignored, Spitelout. Snotlout is partially responsible for the events that led to the kidnapping of one heir, and the death of a Chief. If word was to spread that we overlooked these crimes, the entire archipelago could turn against us."

Spitelout had one arm stuck out, hand pressing against the table. He needed that as he lowered himself slowly into his seat, and then covered his face.

"Dad, please!" I cried. "At least give us a chance to explain."

Dad turned to the Elder. "Gothi, your judgement?"

Gothi stood slowly. Though she was short enough that it was hard to notice. "Snotlout Jorgenson. For your betrayal of the Hooligan Tribe and the Barbarian Archipelago, there is no penance. From this day forth . . ."

Her staff slammed against the ground.

"You are banished."

Does this count as a character death ;)

Review Responses:

Noctus Fury: I won't deny it! Got to have some slow chapters every once in a while. But hopefully the last scene of this chapter made up for it.

Well, you know, even if I decided to also turn Astrid into a dragon, there's no guarantee that she would also be a baby dragon XD

Dunno if you would really call this chapter a Hicstrid one. I mean Astrid is trying to do what she thinks is best for him and the tribe, but Hiccup's going to be more than a little angry with her come next chapter.

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Jazz: Yeah, when I originally saw the first movie, the part that really jarred me was Toothless seemingly being outside the influence of the Red Death. It's good to see that there actually an explanation for it.

He did! Sadly for him, Astrid decided to take that decision out of his hands/paws.

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Flameclaw: Yes!

Leska: Thank you!