Title: The Lost Heir
Summary: Hiccup goes through with his plan to run away, leaving behind no loose ends… or so he believes. After discovering the Nest and then fleeing north, Hiccup builds a utopia at the Dragon Sanctuary, working towards his ultimate goal of destroying the Queen. But no good deed goes unpunished, and ghosts from his past are destined to resurface.
Chapter Thirteen: Bonds
Trigger warning: past suicidal ideation.
Heather was right – all of Hiccup's problems are still there in the morning. Well, his headache is gone, so that's something at least. And while, yes, his problems are all still present and accounted for, they're now joined by the beginnings of their respective solutions.
The first order of business is to T-mail Astrid. The note takes several attempts; he doesn't think begging for forgiveness will earn him any points with her, but finally, he strikes a tone somewhere between earnest and roguishly charming, if he does say so himself. Letter sent, he throws together a quick lesson plan and heads for the catacombs with Toothless.
It's a short flight, but Hiccup uses the time to vent about his latest and most irksome problem: Enetus.
"What am I gonna do, Toothless? The scouts estimate there are forty-odd dragons still under the Queen's thrall, right? We always said the last push needs to be all at once or she'll cannibalise the last of her workers and attempt to relocate." Toothless suffers a full-body shiver. "Sorry, that was insensitive." Hiccup offers a gentle neck pat before continuing. "We need to extract them all at once, but that will take at least two bonded teams per target to do safely. We only have seventy-three pledged and bonded riders. Even after the initiation ceremony in a week, that's only another four on our side. You keeping up, bud?" Hiccup asks jokingly.
Toothless warbles as if he's insulted by the implication that he can't count. He can, a little. Up to ten at least. Hiccup knows he doesn't understand everything he says, but he's always been the best sounding board.
"Heather thinks we'll lose at least twenty riders when Enetus calls his banners. Probably more. Because fighting Scots is more interesting than rescuing dragons, apparently. Never mind the final battle where we help the Alpha triumph over the Red Death in an epic fight for the emancipation of the archipelago. Nooo. They'd rather terrorise King Malcolm and a bunch of hapless farmers."
Hiccup sighs. Is that all it takes for some members of the Ísfjallan Guard to forget the oaths made at initiation? Heather could be wrong. They could be overreacting, but they've had problems with dissenters before, once the lustre of gold and glory faded, and they can't afford to risk it. So the deadline remains fixed. Clear the nest before the summer solstice. Attack the Red Death while at their strongest. Easy. Doable.
If they were already allied with Berk.
He can think of ten different ideas around this if they were allied with Berk just off the top of his head. But there's the rub: the only way to get Berk on board is if he returns the precious, romanticised version of their missing heir. Hiccup, dragon fighter extraordinaire. But Hiccup can't possibly face his father without having redeemed himself by ending the War. Not after running away and letting Stoick believe him dead for half a decade. And now he can't do that without the Hooligan's support.
He can't lord the heir's fate over them forever either. They need proof of life sooner rather than later; Hiccup has to give them something to earn their trust if he ever wants Berk to host their forces.
A pipe dream, really. But it is the most tactically advantageous island from which to launch their final attack. He wouldn't even need access to the village – they could easily set up camp on the other side of Raven's Point. With less distance to travel, the dragons wouldn't tire so easily and they'd need fewer pairs on rescue duties…
But he's getting ahead of himself.
Right now, there's no way to earn Stoick's trust. No way to hold Berk. No way to go home.
He arrives at the catacombs in low spirits. The others are already there chatting animatedly. They seem far more well-adjusted than when they first arrived; they're not afraid anymore – neither of him nor the dragons living in Ísfjall. He never expected to make such swift progress, but their fears were ultimately unfounded, so it's only right that it took so little to debunk them.
He only hopes that in the absence of fear, knowledge can be ushered in. With that in mind, he begins the day's lesson.
"Alright, how are we all doing this morning?" he asks the group at large as he dismounts Toothless.
"Ugh, what's it to you?" Astrid sneers.
Hiccup had hoped to find her slightly more malleable this morning after receiving her swift affirmative to his invitation. But just because she seems prepared to give 'H' another chance doesn't mean she'll extend the same courtesy to the 'Dragon Master'. Their wrongdoings are quite separate from her perspective.
"Just making friendly conversation," he says with a casual air. "But if we're all through with pleasantries, I'll start with a few words about bonds before we go ahead and put what we've learned into practice."
"What are bonds?" Snotlout interjects.
"I'm glad you asked," Hiccup replies. "Bonds are the special friendships between riders and their dragons. At different points in your life, the people you feel closest to might change. You may have many good friends or just one person that you're able to confide in. People may drift apart or come back together. But there will only be one dragon you'll truly connect with. You might fly with another or befriend your friend's dragon. But only one will stay with you forever: the one that you bond with."
"You guys are really committed to your pets," Tuffnut remarks.
Toothless huffs forcefully.
"Dragons aren't pets," Hiccup articulates on his behalf. "They're not beasts of burden, they're not trained hunters, and they're definitely not domesticated house pets. They're intelligent creatures capable of rational thought and deep emotion. All the training in the world can't induce a dragon to carry you on their back. Only a dragon that wants you to share in the experience will let you fly with them. And that's where bonds come in."
"How did you and your night fury bond?" Fishlegs asks.
Hiccup rubs the back of his neck. "It wasn't the best of circumstances. Prob'ly not a good example," he admits.
He gets a sad croon from Toothless and a head bump to his side.
"Then I want to hear it," says Astrid. "And don't sugarcoat or censor. If you want us to believe what you're telling us, you've got to start being more forthcoming."
Hiccup tries not to visibly gulp. Is she being unreasonable? No. Is she asking too much of him? A little. But he supposes if he's really careful, he can tell them the important parts. As long as Toothless doesn't mind – it's his story too.
He exchanges a glance with the dragon. He'll allow it.
"Okay. Here goes. Honestly, I was trying to kill him."
A noise of shocked exclamation follows.
"I was fifteen and under the misapprehension that killing a night fury would solve all my problems. But when I managed to capture one, I realised I couldn't do it. I let him go."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Astrid tells him matter-of-factly. "The next person that dragon killed was your responsibility."
"Well, at that point, I was pretty sure it was gonna be me," Hiccup replies.
He's told this story enough times that he no longer gets hung up on the difficult questions. Did he want to die? No. But he wasn't thinking straight. Fate had presented him with a way to fix everything and he had been too weak to take it. More people could've died and – Astrid's right – it would've been his fault. He wasn't exactly full of self-love at that moment. And though things turned out okay, it was some time before he could accept that he had been strong enough to choose kindness that day.
"But Toothless let me go. And, though I didn't know it at the time, I'd stopped him from answering the Queen's call. I'd made it so that he couldn't be forced to attack anyone else. But it came at a terrible price. My trap severed Toothless' tailfin and robbed him of his ability to fly. When I realised his true nature, I decided to do something about it." He gestures to Toothless' tail rig. "And after that, we were inseparable."
"Yeah, because you maimed him, and now he can't fly without you. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't call that friendship," says Astrid sharply.
"It may have started that way, and I can see why you might think so. But I tried building a better rig that Toothless could operate solo and he deliberately smashed it."
Hiccup gives Toothless a big bear hug. They both know how important that moment was in their friendship – the commitment it signifies. Of course, Hiccup would never begrudge his dragon should he one day change his mind, but for now, it's enough to know that Toothless chooses to stay.
"But bonds aren't always forged in fire," Hiccup goes on. "You can mesh with any dragon at any time. So today, I'm going to take you to the roosts and introduce you to some unbonded dragons."
"You can't be serious," says Astrid.
"You're going to try to make us bond with dragons?" Snotlout asks, faintly scandalised.
Hiccup rolls his eyes, but his mask means his exasperation goes unnoted. "And another thing: dragon bonds can't be forced. You're just going to spend some time with them in their natural habitat, and we'll see what happens," he says breezily.
"You mean a fat load of nothing," Tuffnut dismisses.
"Well, maybe, yeah," Hiccup agrees. He suddenly claps his hands together. "Alright, I'm sure you've all heard enough of me talking for one morning. The roosts are this way."
He gives his mother a passing glance as they leave. Her lecture is going surprisingly well also. Maybe things aren't all doom and gloom after all.
The roosts are up quite a few flights of stairs. Hiccup usually flies most places, and Toothless finds the climb particularly frustrating. But at last, they make it to the dragons' commons. It's a huge cave with different spaces for the dragons to enjoy. High perches, cosy nooks, bathing pools, everything!
About twenty different dragons are milling about. There are a few newcomers, but many more that he's quite friendly with, and one in particular who comes bounding over the second she clocks Hiccup's arrival: a deadly nadder yet to settle on a name.
"Hey, girl," Hiccup greets. "How are we doing today? Looking radiant as ever, I see," he praises.
The nadder preens. She allows Hiccup to stroke her turquoise flank. Hiccup makes sure to pay appropriate dues to the beautiful creature before turning back to his so-called students.
"If I can trust you not to antagonise them too much, you can approach whoever you want to meet," he tells them. "I'll be right here in case you do anything stupid," he promises.
They all scowl, but Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins accept this direction with little hesitancy. He watches them go, recognises their genuine curiosity, and secretly beams. Who knew Berkians had it in them?
"What's her name?" Astrid asks beside him.
Hiccup startles, surprised that she hadn't left already.
"Well, she's hated everything I've suggested so far. Why don't you try to give her one?" he suggests. He hopes his tone doesn't betray how invested he is in this moment. Something is happening… a glimmer, a spark.
"Me?" she queries, amused.
"Why not?"
Astrid falls silent. Just when Hiccup thinks she's shut down, she finally speaks. "Stormfly," she says. "She looks like a 'Stormfly'."
The nadder cocks her head, listening.
"Does she like it?" Astrid asks, strangely uncertain. As if it matters to her.
"Ask her," he softly prompts.
Hiccup almost mistakes the fortifying breath she takes for a sigh. She's nervous. "How do you feel about 'Stormfly'?"
The dragon chirps happily, fluttering her wings and stamping her clawed feet.
"You like it?" Astrid correctly interprets, sounding pleased.
She takes a few steps towards the nadder. Hiccup doesn't think Astrid even realises she's doing it.
"Introduce yourself," Hiccup murmurs, careful not to break whatever spell has taken hold.
"Hello, Stormfly. I'm Astrid," she says. She reaches out to touch the nadder's snout, but her hand stops short, falling back to her side.
Perhaps she needs a little encouragement. "Go on," Hiccup nudges.
In his own feat of daring, he gently grasps Astrid's hand and holds it inches from Stormfly's nose. He feels the dragon's breath on their joined hands and watches as she pushes her snout into Astrid's open palm. The young woman gasps, so quietly that Hiccup almost misses it.
They're standing so close that their shoulders brush; the warmth of her hand, a focal point.
He's struck by how wonderful she is, all over again. Every time he thinks he has a handle on how much he admires Astrid Hofferson, she goes and does something even more incredible. Her heroics in the fire brigade when they were kids, her solo mission to cure Freja's Fever this spring, showing kindness to his alter-ego and her ongoing private search for the heir, and now this. Gifting the sweetest nadder the perfect name.
She's… incredible.
He's been holding her hand for longer than strictly necessary and lets go abruptly. The last thing he wants is to make her feel uncomfortable. His regard for Astrid is long-standing and undoubtedly one-sided. Flirting as 'H' is one thing, but taking liberties with her personal space as the 'Dragon Master' is something else entirely. He makes himself back off, aggressively squashing the urge to be near her.
"Good job," he says awkwardly. "I'm going to go check on the others."
Astrid gives him a funny look for his sudden skittishness. He doesn't flee, per se, but there is a certain haste to his retreat. Besides, there is some truth to his excuse – the others may need that extra nudge as well.
He looks around the roosts. The twins are engaging a zippleback, whose two heads seem to be taking a liking to the pair. Snotlout's bothering a monstrous nightmare, who appears to be indulging the disturbance fairly well. At least, he hasn't set himself on fire yet. And Fishlegs is standing off to the side, looking incredibly ill at ease – like he has no idea what to do with himself.
Hiccup goes to him, grateful for something to do.
"You alright there, Fishlegs?" he asks.
Fishlegs humms. "I don't think I want to take part," he confesses.
Hiccup thinks he might be suffering a crisis of confidence. "I won't make you mingle, but would it help if they came to you?" he suggests.
Fishlegs considers the idea. "Alright," he agrees meekly.
Hiccup unclips Inferno from his thigh and extends and ignites the blade. He flashes a figure of eight and beckons over a medium-sized gronckle.
"You're left-handed," Fishlegs notes. "Do Ísfjallans not enforce right-handedness because you fight on dragonback?" he questions.
"More or less," Hiccup replies.
Uniformity is helpful for close-ranked foot soldiers – Fishlegs is right – but Stoick never thought Hiccup would make much of a fighter, so never bothered to 'correct' him as a child. It was just as well – Hiccup's writing would've suffered awfully.
"The only other person I've ever met who was left-handed was…" Fishlegs trails off thoughtfully. "N-nevermind," he stammers.
Hiccup assumes it's because the gronckle has now reached them and he's yet to leave behind all his trepidation towards dragons.
"This is Meatlug," Hiccup introduces. "She's unbonded, but she likes to help out hitch-flyers from time to time," he says, talking her up.
Meatlug does a happy tail wiggle. If Hiccup didn't know better, he'd think she recognised Fishlegs. Meanwhile, Fishlegs isn't even watching her adorable antics. Instead, he's staring at Hiccup, this sort of boggled expression on his face.
"What did I say?" Hiccup asks, wondering why Fish continues to look at him like a poleaxed yak.
At last, Fish seems to pull himself together. "What!? Nothing! I just remembered where I'd seen uh-Meat Hugs before."
"Meatlug," Hiccup enunciates. "And you have? When?"
"She picked me up by mistake yesterday afternoon," he answers a trifle hotly. "Gave me the fright of my life."
That's right – Heather had mentioned something of the sort happening to Fish. Except –
"That doesn't sound like her," Hiccup comments. "She's usually pretty careful about who she picks up."
Fishlegs spares Meatlug a first, wary glance. He turns away quickly as if he's scared to show her too much encouragement too fast. Hiccup bodily positions the larger man so that he's facing the gronckle head-on.
Fishlegs squeaks in alarm. "Some kids were messing around. It sorta seemed like an accident," he explains to Hiccup, but it feels like Fish is trying to give himself a reason not to be afraid more than him trying to absolve precious Meatlug of blame.
"Then give her another chance and you'll see how gentle she can be," Hiccup compounds regardless. "Ísfjallan's honour," he swears.
"O-okay," Fishlegs aquiesces anxiously.
And it's actually smooth sailing from then on. Meatlug proves fantastic at second impressions and Fishlegs has a very forgiving disposition. It's not long before Meatlug is quite literally eating out of Fish's hand. The twins and their zippleback are indulging in some light arson; Snotlout is amicably smashing heads with the nightmare; and Astrid is absorbed in the task of smoothing Stormfly's spines.
It feels like a crime to disturb such a perfect tableau, but he can barely afford the extra hour he's set aside for dragon training each day, especially not when he's promised more of his time to Astrid afterwards. Regrettably, he calls them back to the mouth of the cave for some final remarks.
"I'll let you guys in on a secret. Most recruits can't do what you just did. It usually takes days or even weeks for dragons to warm up to someone. They have good instincts when it comes to people. Can spot a bad egg a mile away, so the fact that these guys took such a shine to you all is something really special," Hiccup congratulates.
"Of course, you'd say that," Astrid says with narrowed eyes. "They love you."
"Thanks," Hiccup says smartly. "But seriously, I wasn't trying to blow my own horn. You did good. Really." He produces a pouch of coins. "And before I forget, here's yesterday's half-wage. Stable duty might be a punishment, but it's still labour. You might get some decent trinkets down at the market," he suggests, tossing the purse to Snotlout.
"Seriously?" he queries, surprised.
"Yep. I officially give everyone leave to explore the city. But please try to stay out of trouble. If I hear any complaints, it'll be a week of house arrest outside of training. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Hiccup's not sure he'll keep his word, however. He wants them to see Ísfjall in all its glory, so he'll reserve confinement to only the most serious of offences. But they don't need to know that. And besides, it's easier if Astrid goes unaccompanied to Aurvandil's Hollow.
Speaking of, Astrid is gone before Hiccup can even wish her goodbye. Snotlout and the twins aren't far behind, but Fishlegs lingers, making no effort to catch up.
"Don't you want to see the market?" Hiccup asks when he notices Fish still hasn't left.
"Can I ask you a question, Hiccup?" Fishlegs asks.
His quip of 'you just did' turns to ash on his tongue. He tenses.
"Whuh-why did you call me that?" he asks. Bluffs.
"Because I know it's you," Fishlegs responds. "It made so much sense once I'd figured it out. All those things you said about Hiccup – about yourself – yesterday. Why everyone knows your real name. It all adds up."
"Sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about," he denies.
His pulse races. This is so bad. He should've known Fishlegs was one to watch; he was always so much more observant than the rest of their peers.
"The only part I don't get… is why," Fishlegs continues as if he can't hear him.
"Why what?"
"Why you're hiding your face. Haven't you realised how much your dad misses you?"
The question feels like a physical blow. But the answer is even worse. Stoick doesn't miss him – not the real him. He misses a fictitious version of him. Less real than 'H' or his 'Dragon Master' persona. Besides –
"Don't you think I miss him too!?" Hiccup yells.
Crap!
Fishlegs looks vindicated and terrified at the same time.
"You can't tell the others," Hiccup begs, pleads, demands.
"I have to."
Hiccup grabs his head. Everything's spinning. He feels motion sick. Just when things looked as though they might work out. Now this.
He grasps for any way of delaying the inevitable. "Let me tell them," he tries desperately. "Please. I'll explain everything, just give me a day's grace. That's all I'm asking."
"No, they deserve to know."
"Fishlegs, you don't understand–"
"So tell me."
"I can't!"
"Then I don't have anything else to say to you, Hiccup. I'm telling the others about you, and you can't stop me," he says determinedly. Odin, what an awful time for Fishlegs to grow a spine.
He's wrong, however. Hiccup has many ways of stopping him. And, as if on cue, one of them rides in like an avenging Valkyrie on the back of her razorwhip. Heather.
Fishlegs may already be running to catch up to the others, but it won't matter soon. Windshear beats her wings to maintain a hover as Fish dashes out of the cave entrance underneath her belly.
"Heather, thank the gods. I need your help," Hiccup breathes. "Fishlegs knows. You gotta stop him. Hogtie him and meet me in the war room in a quarter eykt," he orders.
He'll deal with Fishlegs after he's spoken to Astrid.
Heather looks amused. Her eyes follow Fishlegs' flight from the cavern, glinting. "With pleasure," she purrs.
Well, that's one disaster taken care of… sort of.
It's speculated that Vikings would've indeed enforced right-handedness or at least ambidextrousness in warriors.
A/N: What's this? No line breaks? Who am I? A more consistent writer, that's who. Big thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. I'm taking notes for what you guys want to see happen and using your advice to fill in any blanks (I'm looking at you Nothing is true 2008, you're awesome). Thanks for reading. Next time: Aurvandill's Hollow (finally)!