The feast later that week was when things really started to get weird.
Well. Weirder, anyway.
Stoick had gathered the entire village in the Great Hall this evening. That in itself was standard enough. It was often his father's custom to make a big deal out of every Chiefs meeting, and have a lavish feast to celebrate his tribe and their prosperity, even if there wasn't any to be had. Vikings were stubborn that way. Or at least the Hooligans were, though Hiccup suspected he spoke for every tribe when he described them as bull-headed loons.
This time an invitation was extended to Toothless, Stormfly, and the others, who surprisingly weren't the strange part. Although a year ago, if someone told him he'd be spending the feast trying to keep a dragon off the table, he would have laughed them all the way to the next Chiefdom.
No. What really set him on edge was the way people were looking at him. Or rather, that they were looking at him. Sure, people had begun to remember Hiccup was alive after he'd saved their skins, but tonight it seemed different somehow. Tribesman who'd never even glanced his way before were stopping to wave or offer greetings.
What is this? Am I dying? Being sold into slavery? Losing another limb?
They couldn't have heard about the whole 'heir' thing already. He and his dad just talked about it two days ago.
Hiccup paused.
Then thought about what he'd just said and groaned with dismay.
Okay. So everybody knew by now. Great. He should have felt flattered that people were being so…well, nice to him, but honestly it was kind of freaking him out. Not to mention, he wasn't nearly stupid enough to think it was all genuine.
"You know for Vikings, they're getting pretty good at sucking up to me."
Astrid punched him in the shoulder while Hiccup grimaced, tossing a half-hearted glare in her direction. "Oh come on, Hiccup. You're finally getting a little respect around here. That's worth something."
"Yeah I guess, but I want them to respect me for me, not because my dad thinks I'm awesome now, or whatever," he muttered in response, aware that he sounded about as petulant as a five-year old begging for their first ax.
Try as he might, Hiccup couldn't quite shake this childish defiance. He hadn't yet given Stoick an answer, but he almost wanted to tell him no just to spite him. That was stupid and he knew it, but there was so much bitterness bottled up inside of him, and he really wasn't sure what he should to do with it. He thought he was okay with everything that happened in his childhood, but clearly that wasn't the case. He needed to come to terms with it before he screwed everything up for himself.
Or before he genuinely hurt his father, which was the last thing he wanted. Despite the mistakes Stoick had made, Hiccup loved him dearly. He didn't want to see him suffer.
Caught up in these musings, the last thing he expected to find was his lovely female companion brushing the bangs out of his eyes. Her fingers were rough with calluses, but inviting and warm. He found himself struggling not to lean into her touch. "You're doing it again."
"Uh, doing what…exactly?" He had to admit, he felt pretty pleased with himself when he managed not to stammer his response.
"Beating yourself up. I'm the only one who's allowed to give you a hard time so stop that, okay?"
"Easier said than done. Getting beat up is kind of what I do. In hundreds of different contexts, yes, but it happens. A lot."
She laughed, blue eyes sparkling with mirth, although if he looked closer, he could swear there was something else there. If he hadn't known better, he might have said she looked protective.
That was just weird, right? Hiccup swore he was never going to get used to this whole Astrid caring about his existence thing.
"Yeah. We'll see about that." Her eyes glinted with the promise of fire and blood, which was at the same time both scary, and awkwardly attractive.
His heart did weird things when she talked like that, things he also wasn't sure what to do with. Still, it was gratifying to find himself on Astrid's, "People I'd Kill For" list. Hiccup couldn't help but smile. He wasn't sure what he and the blonde Viking were exactly, but he did know he never wanted to lose it.
Dinner came and went without incident. His dad of course, gave a speech that was both really long and really boring. Blah blah Vikings, blah blah glory. He was just grateful his name remained blessedly absent from it. Apparently Stoick respected Hiccup's wishes, and was giving him the space he needed to think.
Yeah, way to make him feel worse about how sullen he was being over the whole thing.
The bards were emerging now, laughing merrily and dragging out the kegs of mead for their older brethren. Normally the songs and stories were Hiccup's favorite part, but tonight he just wasn't in the mood. Suddenly, he found himself glad Snotlout and the others had more interesting things than annoying him on their agenda tonight.
He was even gladder that Astrid was sticking close. She leaned toward him now, shoulder brushing against his. Normally she wasn't the touchiest person, but she must have realized it was what he needed. He couldn't put into words how grateful he was for that. "If you wanna skip out on all of this, I'll cover for you with your dad. I'll just tell him one of the dragons got fussy."
Hiccup felt himself nodding his head. He was exhausted and he didn't feel like keeping up this façade anymore. He needed to go somewhere. Think. Get his head on straight. He wasn't going manage that while smothered in the Great Hall.
"Yeah, that would be great, actually. I just…don't want to be here right now."
Astrid's eyes softened and for a moment she almost looked like she wanted to reach out again, but she refrained, sensing his withdrawal. Just as she'd known when to touch him before, she knew now that Hiccup wanted to be left alone with his thoughts and she accepted that.
Had he mentioned how much he really, really liked Astrid?
He started to walk away from her, but turned back on a whim.
"Thank you." Before he could change his mind, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, darting away before he tripped or did something else to make himself look like an idiot. Before he stumbled away however, he did remind himself to remember the blank, vaguely awed look on her face and file it away for safe keeping.
Toothless, evidently, had sensed the waning mood of his rider even from a distance away, where he'd been messing around with the other dragons. He met Hiccup at the door, rubbing against his side with a distressed whine.
Hiccup wrapped his arm around his neck. "It's okay, bud. You can stay and have fun. Just because I'm not enjoying this doesn't mean you shouldn't.
The Night Fury circled around him and nudged his back, pushing him forward and planting himself at Hiccup's side with a stubborn snort.
"Toothless, really. I'm just gonna go work on some designs for a while, clear my head. You know I'm no fun when I'm like this. I don't wanna rub my bad mood off on you."
His best friend's only answer was an angry snarl and another push toward the door.
"All right, all right. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Despite his words, Hiccup felt the warmth wrap itself around him like a cloak in a frigid winter storm. Now that the Night Fury was part of his life, he couldn't remember what he ever did without him. At first he hadn't wanted company, not even Astrid's, but Toothless wasn't just anyone. He was part of him. Hiccup could vent to him for hours and there was neither judgment, nor expectation. He could simply talk, without having to worry about being polite or carrying on a conversation.
Besides, I guess it's kind of nice not being alone. I could get used to that.
Somewhere along the way, Hiccup forgot all about any plans he'd had for returning to the forge. The night was remarkably clear, and the stars twinkled so brightly in the night sky, he swore he could reach out to touch them. Maybe he and Toothless should go for a flight later.
Currently, his giant child of a dragon was frolicking in the waves below. Hiccup sat on the edge of a cliff just outside the village, right where the last vestiges of their civilization dropped off and began to shrink in the distance. Though there were a few houses close by, they were far enough away that he couldn't hear voices, and there wasn't much danger of being disturbed.
The air was crisp, though remarkable absent wind, and it was comfortably warm rather than stifling. In a land where it snowed nine months of the year, most people cherished days like this, and he was no exception.
The quiet had done its job and helped him clear his head. Not that he particularly liked what he'd found, but nobody said reality was always fun.
He had to talk to his dad. That much was clear.
Up until now, he'd been content shoving all of his negative feelings into a box at the back of his mind, never to see the light of day again. Now that those emotions were bursting free and bleeding back into his consciousness, they were eating him alive. All of those days he'd told himself he was okay had been pure bravado on his part. He hadn't been okay. Not at all, and clearly, he still wasn't.
Being reminded of how useless he was every day of his existence had really done a number on him. Hiccup understood that now. He didn't like it, but he understood it. And he was ready to move past it, really, but clearly that wasn't going to happen until he gave voice to every negative feeling he'd ever felt, and that did unfortunately include a lot of resentment toward his father and fellow dragon riders.
Tonight he'd leave it alone, but tomorrow, he and Stoick were going to sit down and have a very long, very difficult discussion. One Hiccup was dreading already, but in the end their relationship would be stronger for it. He was ready to form a bond with his dad. One that wasn't constantly strained and uncomfortable.
His stomach tied up in knots just thinking about how horribly this whole talk thing could go, but he also felt at peace. One way or another, things were going to be resolved, and his father would finally understand just how much he and the other villagers had wronged him. A small, ugly part of him felt a twinge of satisfaction at that.
He hated that side of himself. Hated that it existed, but he supposed all people had moments like this. Humans could turn into monsters just as easily as dragons. There was a man-eating animal in everyone, if they tried hard enough to find it. Cheery thought.
Later, he would laugh at the irony that fate would decide this was the perfect moment to send an arrow careening into the back of his left shoulder.
For a moment, he was too shocked to do or feel anything. The blow knocked him forward into the grass and he gasped, wide-eyed. It was a miracle the kick back hadn't sent him over the edge of the cliff. As it was, his head hung over, though he could focus on nothing in the moment's confusion. Distantly, he heard Toothless frantically clawing up the cliff-side to get to him, roaring in what Hiccup assumed was equal parts confusion, fear…
…and rage. Terrible rage.
Hiccup struggled to lift himself with his good arm, craning his neck to confirm that yes, there really was an arrow shaft protruding from his shoulder. That was when the pain hit him, and everything else went to Hel in a hand basket. He collapsed under his own weight, breathless.
In that moment, Toothless cleared the edge of the cliff and flung himself in front of his rider, just in time to shatter the second arrow midair with a feral snap of his teeth. Furious, the Night Fury loosed a savage cry and fired in the direction the shot had come from, though he refused to budge from where he stood huddled over Hiccup, protecting him from further harm.
He opened his mouth to speak, to tell Toothless it was okay and that he should calm down, but instead of words, all his lips could produce was a strangled moan.
He'd recovered from second degree burns and even lost a limb, but he still wasn't ready for the way his shoulder throbbed, white-hot with agony around the arrow shaft. Hiccup bit his lip, tried to move his arm, and was rewarded with the tooth-gnashing sensation of stone grinding against bone.
That was when he screamed. He couldn't help it. It almost felt stupid to be moved by a mere arrow considering all he'd been through, but oh Odin it hurt. He could barely think straight through the pain, but he had to try. Fast.
His vision was darkening around the edges. That wasn't good. For a dizzying moment he thought he was going to pass out, but he shut his eyes, took a few deep breaths, then opened them again, willing himself to keep it together long enough to prepare a solid game plan.
Toothless seemed unsure whether he wanted to go after the shooter or stay with Hiccup, and he kept firing frustrated shots at the sky, enraged. In the end, he settled for circling around Hiccup possessively, growling, shielding him with his tail and nosing at him worriedly.
Who shoots at a guy with a Night Fury anyway? Hiccup thought to himself. He started to giggle about that, then decided it hurt too much and rested his head against Toothless' foreleg instead, nauseous. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, and now he had a possessive, overly protective Night Fury circling around him, so even if someone had heard all the fuss he was making, and they had to have, he doubted the dragon was going to let anyone near him.
He should probably do something about that.
Should, but his shoulder hurt so bad, and he was so tired…
Steadily, his eyes were drifting shut. Just a second. One second wouldn't hurt. Then he'd figure out what to do from there.
Sleep. Sleep fixed everything.
The last thing he heard was the shrill cry of a Night Fury, echoing in the night sky.