Carried Off, a DreamWorks' How to Train Your Dragon fanfic by Raberba girl (rough draft)
There were a few changes, such as that, in practice, Hiccup now lived at Gobber's place with the babies. Most of his interactions with his wife in what was technically their own home pretty much consisted of only two activities, which made him feel like he was bartering sex for breast milk. Hiccup's abduction and escape also seemed to have transformed him somewhat from an object of scorn into an interesting freak. Otherwise, life quickly settled back into a routine.
Until the next dragon raid.
Hiccup couldn't work at all. He got yelled at by both Astrid and Gobber until he pled trauma from his abduction, then crouched uselessly in a corner of the forge, clutching his babies and staring out at the invading force in fresh horror and desperate, painful confusion.
There was something wrong with these dragons. Now that he knew what real dragons were like, he could tell that there was something WRONG with these creatures who mercilessly pillaged and stole and destroyed and hurt. 'You can see it in their eyes...it's like they're not even there. It's like monsters have stolen their bodies and are using them to hurt us. ...Where did their souls go?'
Afterward, he tried to make up for his lack of help in the forge during the battle by throwing himself without complaint into medical care and repair efforts. He went to bed exhausted that night, even later than Astrid did. He worked hard again all the next day and took longer getting to sleep that night. He thought for a long time. In the morning, he asked Astrid if he could relieve the caretaker of the captive dragons whenever he had a chance.
She stared at him. "Dragons scare you to death."
He fidgeted resentfully. "No...not really..."
"Then what were you doing cowering on the floor the last raid?" she demanded.
Oh. "Well, I mean, okay, I was traumatized a bit, but I want to, uh...face my fears, you know? And...conquer them." He had always been a lousy liar when he was unsure of himself, but she didn't seem to scrutinize him too closely.
"Whatever. You are impossible. Just...just don't shirk in the forge, and be here when I need you in the evenings; otherwise, I don't care what you do anymore, Hiccup. I will never understand you."
"Okay," he said restlessly, losing interest in speaking to her now that he'd gotten what he wanted.
"And don't you dare get yourself carried off again," she said sharply.
"I won't!"
o.o.o.o.o
Once again, the babies caused a dilemma for him. If Hiccup had been on his own, he would not have hesitated to walk straight into the arena unarmed, but he had his children to think of.
'Well,' he amended, 'I guess technically, it's my own fault, not theirs...' The separation anxiety he had developed since his abduction was crippling...he still couldn't bear to be too far away from his children. He had improved enough that he could now tolerate having sex with his wife while the babies were simply in the same room rather than having to actually be in the bed with them, but he still couldn't stand to truly leave his children, even for an hour.
'Make a choice, Haddock,' he told himself. 'Figure out what's wrong with the dragons and put your kids in mortal danger, or give in to your own selfish cowardice and let these poor draugr keep terrorizing your people. It'll only be a matter of time before Finn or Val becomes one of the casualties. ...Or, take a third option and solve the mystery while keeping your kids safe. No-brainer, right? RIGHT, HADDOCK?'
It was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He wept as he gave his children into Gobber's care, and couldn't leave for a while as he hugged and kissed them. Finn cried, easily picking up on his distress; Valka loudly indicated her disapproval of his mood.
"I'll come back...I'll come back, I'll come back, I'll come back..."
"You don't have to do this, Hiccup," Gobber said hesitantly. He had no idea where the young man was going, but he couldn't stand to see the last three people he cared about in tears.
"It never ends...I wish Toothless really had torn out my guts, that's what this feels like, it's what my whole life always, always feels like..."
He made it to the arena, but then he just lay curled up in the middle of it, desperately alone, feeling like his heart was bleeding in a great unseen pool around him. ...It would mingle with the old bloodstains he started to notice on the floor.
Dragons' blood. Countless creatures slain here, feeling all the anguish in their bodies that he was feeling in his soul now.
Hiccup lay quietly, feeling strangely in tune with the ghosts of these creatures. He listened to the rustling and occasional muffled growls of their living counterparts, still locked behind heavy doors.
'So much pain. This war has cost you just as much as it has us. ...Why do you keep at it? ...What is your nest like?' A horrible thought struck him. 'What is your king like?!' He sat up, breathing hard. The king he'd met had always fed his people so that they had no need to raid and pillage. But if the nest hiding in the dark mists of Helheim's Gate was anything like the nest in the Sanctuary, it would have its own king, its own hopelessly massive, mind-reading titan ruler...
Hiccup rushed home, reclaimed his children, shut himself in the forge's back room with them, and scribbled furiously in a fresh notebook until his hand ached. 'We've never been at war with them. We've been at war with IT. That THING, that physically-impossible-to-kill THING is a failure of a ruler, it's been sending them against us all this time, it's making us do its job for it, it will never, ever stop until we have nothing left to steal, until we're all dead...'
The next afternoon, he tore himself away from his babies again and went back to the arena, which was far from the hub of the village and therefore deserted when there was no training or events going on. He set a piece of fish down outside one of the pens, then released the dragon.
The Terrible Terror came rushing out, snarling fiercely until he literally tripped over the fish. He instantly whirled and devoured the food in one gulp. Before he could get his bearings, Hiccup tossed another piece of fish, and the tiny dragon devoured that one, too. He raised his head and fixed his bulbous eyes on Hiccup. Before he could decide how to respond to the quiet, food-dispensing human, Hiccup threw another morsel. Then he sat down.
After the Terror had swallowed the third offering, he came trotting over to Hiccup and paused, gazing at him warily and a little curiously. Hiccup didn't move. He felt relatively safe, since he had taken the precaution of wearing gloves and a helmet with a visor to cover his face, so that there was no exposed skin for the little dragon to bite with its venomous fangs.
The Terror sniffed at him.
"Hi there."
The dragon climbed into his lap like an awkward lizard-puppy. Hiccup cautiously petted him. The dragon rested his chin on Hiccup's knee and relaxed. Hiccup hesitated, then removed his glove and scratched the bases of the dragon's horns. The little creature purred and butted his hand for more. Hiccup smiled and obliged. "You're just fine when you're out of your king's thrall and not being chased around and yelled at and jabbed with scary pointy things, aren't you." The dragon crooned in response.
Hiccup petted him for a while longer. Then he lured the animal back into the pen with another piece of fish, returned to his children, and stayed up writing and sketching in his new dragon notebook until the wee hours of the morning.
o.o.o.o.o
Even though Hiccup felt fairly confident now about what he was doing, there was still a good chance that he'd screw up (he was Hiccup, after all...) and get himself killed by one of the bigger dragons. Before he returned to the arena the next day, he updated his will and wrote letters to both of his children, entrusting the sealed documents to Gobber. Then he headed off with his notebook in hand.
He was a little inclined in favor of the Gronckle, since the mother dragon who had carried him the last leg of his journey home had been one of that species. He took a deep breath and opened the beast's pen.
She came tearing out much as the Terror had, looking around wild-eyed before her eyes fell on Hiccup. She charged at him. He couldn't help backing up against the wall in alarm, but he kept his hands up unthreateningly.
He was horrified when she opened her glowing mouth, but then she paused before blasting him. She sniffed at his lap, where the Terrible Terror had rested the day before. The Gronckle growled warily, but Hiccup could see fear in her eyes.
Speaking of eyes. They'd changed, just as Toothless's had months ago. The pupils had been slitted with fear and fury; now they were wider, warmer. "Welcome back," Hiccup whispered. He let his hand hover in front of her heaving nostrils for a minute. Then he very gently laid his palm on her face.
Once he had gained her trust, she lay down heavily beside him and leaned against him, not responding to his attempts to engage her. He finally realized that it seemed to be comfort she sought, and when he caressed her soothingly, she nuzzled into him, seeking more. "You're so sad," he murmured, his heart swelling with compassion. "Are you a mother, too, like my friend out there? Did you leave babies behind when you were captured, like I did?" It was a horrible thought that struck him to the core. He found himself leaning over her and weeping, aching for his children even now, and she joined in his tears with a high, keening sound of grief. They cried together for a long time.
o.o.o.o.o
The Nadder responded well to praise and compliments, and seemed to be most relaxed when he avoided her blind spot and allowed her to examine him to her satisfaction. The Nightmare gave him the biggest scare at first, but curiosity eventually won out over battle lust, and Hiccup got the second-most feared dragon of the invading flock to channel his energy into games. The Zippleback was the hardest to win over, almost disdainfully keeping his (their?) distance even after Hiccup managed to convince him/them that he meant no harm, but even the unimpressed two-headed dragon did no more than wreathe him in gas and spark threateningly, without actually going so far as to blow him up.
Hiccup fed them and talked to them and petted them and played with them and tended their wounds whenever warriors came to use them for training. Hiccup also did some training of his own, teaching the dragons things like to confine their licking to certain areas of his body rather than indiscriminately glopping drool all over him (a particular problem with the Gronckle), how to find alternatives to marking him that didn't involve biting (a rather urgent problem with the Nightmare), how to fetch various items and bring them to him (the Nadder seemed particularly fond of this activity), and how to wait their turn if more than one dragon was out of its pen at feeding time (the Terror never seemed to master this particular lesson).
Hiccup had started letting them out in pairs once they were all used to him individually. They seemed delighted to be able to interact with each other, nearly hurting him a few times by accident in their exuberance at being reunited with their own kind. At last, Hiccup let all five dragons out of their pens at the same time. They milled around him, vocalizing happily and rubbing and licking scent onto him, the Nadder preening him and the Gronckle nuzzling him with particular affection.
He might as well have been back at the Sanctuary. These were real dragons, their souls restored, their eyes full of life and warmth. These dragons would never hurt him. Their fallen king could not reach them here, they were not Hiccup's enemies.
Still, it was a whole week before the young Viking convinced himself that it was all right to bring his children to the arena with him. The dragons instantly picked up on his anxiety and grew more agitated in response, and he clutched his babies hard and prayed that if he'd miscalculated, he would get killed as well, instead of having to live with the agony of knowing that he'd brought his own children to their deaths.
There had been no need to worry. Hound, the Gronckle, picked up the babies' scent first and cried out in delight, and Reign the Nadder eagerly shoved her way forward, and Gecko the Terror clambered to Hiccup's shoulders so he could get a better look, and the twins became the center of loving draconic attention.
Valka was utterly delighted. Volcano the Nightmare soon claimed her and carried her around proudly, uncharacteristically gentle. Hiccup was surprised and relieved when Finn didn't seem to be upset. Indeed, as the baby was licked by Hound, he kept trying to reach up to grab the Gronckle's tongue, babbling in confusion and growing annoyance every time his tiny hands slid right off the slippery muscle.
Hiccup felt tears of relief and joy sliding down his face. Dragons really were people. Even the dragons of Helheim's Gate were people, simply locked in some sort of prison of the mind that they could be freed from. He could trust them not only with his own life, but with his most precious treasures.
The joy slowly faded to dismay as he watched confirmation that everything his people had known about dragons was wrong - that, for centuries now, oceans of blood had been spilled for nothing.
To be continued...
Author's Notes: I was lazy and gave the captive dragons in this AU the same personalities and sexes as the canon ones.