Hey y'all! First just HTTYD post! Yayyyy! But don't worry, there's more to come...once I get ideas and write them.
And before you ask, yes, the title is a reference to The Inheritance Games by Jennifer Lynn Barnes. Good book (series). For those of you who've read that, guess you know what this is about, then. Welp. Maybe that'll intrigue you more.
"For the love of Thor, will you please just listen to me?" Hiccup asked, walking out of the Great Hall while trying to keep his cool with the old man complaining behind him. "Those lands aren't yours anymore; they're Gothi's, so you can't farm them without her permission."
"But those lands were part of my inheritance! They're mine!" Mildew cried.
"Not anymore," Hiccup repeated for what felt like the umpteenth time but really was only the ninth. Still, it felt like this conversation had lasted longer than it should, and every word to Mildew felt like drinking salt after not having a single drop of water for an entire day. "Mildew, it isn't yours. Please, just…let me finish everything I need to get done for today and we'll find you a new field or something. That sound good?"
"Let you finish everything in a job that isn't even yours while that woman is thieving off of my land?"
That Hiccup stopped dead in his tracks. Wasn't his? His position as Chief had been his father's before–before he died. And even before then, Stoick had been itching to hand the position to Hiccup.
The shock quickly faded, replaced by anger that made his fingers curl inward and heat climb his face. Would it be cliché to say that his blood boiled? Because it didn't. Instead, Mildew awoke something inside of Hiccup, an anger, a hatred, a fury much like what he had always imagined his father felt when he was protecting Berk. Hiccup had felt it once before, that was how he knew it, how he recognized the taste it left on his mind. It was a monster, one that lurked beneath his skin, something he wish he could claw out. It always seemed to come out whenever he felt threatened, especially in situations that he associated with his father.
But he couldn't punch Mildew, not like he had with Snotlout. This time it wouldn't be growing a spine. And anyway, his father never did it when he was Chief. Hiccup had to live by his example. That was the best way to help Berk.
He couldn't do anything, but he could ask incredulously, "What?"
His voice echoed off of the outside walls, making it into the ears of twice as many Vikings than if it hadn't echoed. Those who heard stopped, and those who hadn't stopped out of curiosity to figure out why so many Vikings randomly froze in their paths.
If anyone said that Mildew couldn't read the room, that would be a lie. Mildew knew exactly how to grab a Viking's attention – grab their attention and completely infuriate them.
But he also knew how to convince someone of a lie, or a distorted truth.
It had turned the Berkians against their chief before; once in a lightning storm, Mildew had convinced the Vikings of Berk that Toothless was the cause of the lightning and that the lightning wouldn't abate until after they had shipped him off of Berk.
That had been back when Stoick was…was alive and Chief, but now he wasn't. It was up to Hiccup, but Hiccup didn't have the kind of experience Stoick had.
Mildew knew this – and he used it.
"Everyone knows that you were disowned, 'iccup! But did he ever take it back?" Mildew pointed out, his voice loud enough that even without the echoes, just about the entire village could hear him.
"Are you kidding me?" Astrid demanded, elbowing through the crowd to join Hiccup and Mildew on the steps of the Great Hall. "Of course Stoick did! Did you not notice that Hiccup had been living with Stoick for years after that? Or were you kicked in the head too many times?"
"Ah, but did he do it oh-fficially?" Mildew countered, turning to the crowd, "Pick yer minds e'erybody! Do you recall Stoick ever making that announcement publicly as is required by tradition?"
Most remained silent, though a few shook their heads or shrugged. Those who didn't remain silent had the decency to whisper; "I don't believe so," and "What would that mean?" floated up to the three standing on the steps, much to Mildew's delight.
That was the question of the hour: what would that mean for Hiccup's Chiefdom?
And Mildew knew the answer. "Stoick never did it oh-fficially. That would mean that 'iccup is still disowned! And that would mean that he cannot receive inheritance from his father, including the title of Chief!" Mildew shouted to the gathered crowd below, pointing his staff at Hiccup.
"No," Hiccup said firmly.
Don't let Mildew in, son. Don't let him plant seeds of doubt.
"You don't have nuthin' of your father's!"
"No, Mildew, I do," Hiccup asserted, clenching his fists. "That was my father's home and I have lived in it all my life. It is my home."
"But where's the boy supposed to live?" one Viking piped up, ignoring Hiccup's words completely.
Great. So they're back to that now? he thought.
"Would you want a squatter living on your property, disrespectin' your wishes?" Mildew asked.
"But that boy ain't some stranger! He's the son of Stoick!" the same Viking who had first stood up for his new Chief cried.
"He was also disowned and never taken back. Tradition is tradition!" another Viking shouted.
"What? How could you say that?" Astrid turned to that Viking, stomping down the steps. "Hiccup is your Chief, and before that, he saved this village so many times, I can't even begin to number them. So, seriously, tell me: how could you say that?"
"Astrid, it's fine," Hiccup said, walking to her and taking her hand. "It's fine."
"No, it isn't. They want to kick you out of your home, Hiccup. They think you aren't Chief," Astrid replied, pulling her hand out of his grip.
"We can handle it. We'll handle it, right? Together?" he asked. "Together?"
"Together," Astrid said, then in a louder voice to the assembled crowd, "Because I know who my Chief is and it sure isn't Mildew!"
"Glad to know that's the only reason," Hiccup muttered, though that was ignored too.
They really were coming back to the whole "let's ignore Hiccup" stage. Where was Toothless when he needed him? He bit his lip as the handful of comments about whether Mildew's claim was authentic or not turned into arguments and slowly began to work its way up into an all-out brawl. How was he supposed to get there attention? Clearly they were ignoring him and clearly they were only going to listen to Mildew.
And there was no way Mildew was going to listen to him…unless…
He humored Mildew.
It was perfect, really. Hiccup knew his father had to have some kind of paper after the event that showed he took Hiccup back, and while Mildew didn't believe that, he would think that his theory would be proven correct so he would take it.
Most likely, anyway.
But to hook the old man, he had to do this just right.
"Very well, Mildew," he started. Excellent, really. Mildew immediately grinned, his horribly crooked teeth poking up, expecting Hiccup to relent and give him back his land. But Hiccup knew that Mildew knew to take the wins he could, and in that case, the win would be to have Hiccup out of a job and the title of Chief given to someone more…managable in the old man's eyes. So, Hiccup continued, "We'll bring this to the Elders. They can settle this."
"Deal! You hear that e'erybody? The true Chief will soon have his throne!" Mildew cried to the crowd below. Some cheered, which was odd, since Mildew was the village hermit. Others shouted that Hiccup was the Chief and there really was no need to take this to the Elders, though Hiccup could tell that a few were just trying to get on his good side. Either way, it was nice, or at least, as nice as it could get, given the circumstances.
"Enough gloating," Astrid told Mildew, folding her arms. "Let's go."
Mildew turned to leave, parting a trail in the sea of Vikings gathered at the base of the stairs, leaving Astrid and Hiccup alone on the stone steps. That's when Astrid stopped Hiccup and asked, "What are you doing?"
"Trying to humor him," he replied, looking away as he added, "I really wish Mildew knew when to leave things alone."
"I'm sorry," Astrid said, taking his hand, "Want me to go kick Mildew's butt? You and I both know that he's not going to be that much of a challenge for me."
Hiccup laughed, "Or we could take in the look of defeat on his face when the Elders settle this for us."
"I don't know. Do you really think that'll be enough?" Astrid smiled and started to head in the same direction as Mildew.
"Right. Better go catch up to him," Hiccup said.
"And show him that this was nothing more than an annoying waste of time," Astrid added.
"I can't believe they actually listened to him!" Astrid angrily exclaimed. "Gothi named you Chief and the other Elders accepted that!"
"They were just looking at the facts," Hiccup replied, oddly calm. He wasn't exactly sure why: he wasn't the Chief anymore and the Council of Elders essentially made him homeless, so shouldn't he feel upset or angry or anxious? Maybe the reality hadn't sunk in fully or maybe he was just numb to these kinds of things.
He hadn't felt right since his father had died. Nothing had, really. This certainly didn't feel right, but not only did it not feel right (and that was for obvious reasons), it also felt unreal. So, he didn't know how to feel about it. No, that was a lie. He did know how to feel about it, he just didn't feel that. He knew he should be angry at losing his home, or wounded that he had to stay at his girlfriend's parents' house, but he was more worried about how he was going to get through this.
This…concerned Astrid on several levels, but she wasn't sure how to help her boyfriend. What if she said something that made him break down? Hiccup just lost his father, for Thor's sake! Now this? That Mildew was just asking to be sentenced to Outcast Prison for life, at least in Astrid's eyes (after all, what he did was just insensitive and technically treason), and though Astrid didn't have that kind of power, she could bet that several Vikings on Berk would agree with her.
Unfortunately, none of them she knew for certain had the authority to hand that sentence to Mildew. Only the Council of Elders or the Chief, and it was clear the Elders weren't on her side. Because her side was Hiccup's side and they stripped him of everything. It was clear they were on Mildew's side.
But what got her the maddest was that Gobber was on the Council. Gobber. The best friend of Stoick. Hiccup's second father. And he voted against Hiccup. The thought of it made her grip her ax harder. Gobber. Gobber voted against Hiccup.
"They were just looking at the facts. They couldn't do anything else, or it would've been unfair," Hiccup reminded her.
Again with the odd calm. It seemed to wash over Hiccup, encasing him in a hateful mask of cold indifference that was bound to hurt him more than help when he came out of it. She absolutely hated it. How could he be calm? How could he push all of what he must surely be feeling away when all it would do is double itself when he was ready to face it? Didn't he understand that that would make it so much harder? But she couldn't bring herself to tell Hiccup this. Either way, it would hurt him and where Hiccup was trapped with whatever was going on in his mind, Astrid was trapped between these two decisions.
All she could do at the moment was support him.
"Guess I'm working at the forge full-time," Hiccup said, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table of the Great Hall. "It'll be nice, actually. Chiefing is boring."
"But do you really want a Jorgenson as Acting Chief?" Astrid asked.
"Maybe not permanently, but Spitelout is a good temporary leader," Hiccup shrugged. "It'll fix itself."
"Who are you, and what have you done to Hiccup Haddock?" Astrid said, raising an eyebrow. "You've never stayed out of things before."
"Well…things change."
"That doesn't mean everything should change," Astrid disagreed, standing up. "I'm going to go to bed. It's been a long day. Maybe you should get some rest."
"Yeah." Hiccup nodded. Good, at least he was willing to listen to her instead of completely dismissing her. Maybe there was hope for the old Hiccup after all. "Maybe." He moved to stand up before his face suddenly fell. "R-right. I'll follow–follow you."
Maybe it was the way he slumped as he said that. Or maybe it was the way he had said it, but in that moment, Astrid realized that she must have been wrong about the way he was feeling about the whole situation. And that maybe not even Hiccup was right about what he was feeling. Hiccup was a terrible lair, even when it came to hiding his own emotions.
"So, how are we going to get your inheritance back?" Astrid asked the next morning, plopping down next to Hiccup at their unofficially designated table in the Great Hall. Seconds later, Snotlout and Fishlegs join them, announcing their agreements.
"What? You're kicking me out already?" Hiccup replied dryly, picking at his food without even glancing at his friends.
"Yeah, it's really no surprise. I mean, who would want to live with you?" Tuffnut said, sliding onto the bench with his sister, Ruffnut, close behind.
Normally, she would have ignored the Twins' antics, but Tuffnut's words teased the smallest of smiles (but still a smile!) out of Hiccup, so as soon as his gaze was elsewhere, she sent the Twins an approving nod. That got a bewildered look out of them, one that didn't seem as real as it had a few years ago. They knew exactly what they were doing.
"Hiccup?" Fishlegs said, reaching over the table and shaking Hiccup's shoulder gently.
Hiccup started at the touch but when his eyes focused on Fishlegs and the rest of his friends facing him, he relaxed and said, "Plan? I don't have any."
"What?" The Twins half-shouted simultaneously, exaggeratedly dropping their jaws.
"The Great Hiccup has no plan?" Tuffnut cried separately.
"Ragnorok must be coming!" Ruffnut finished, looking frantically at the ceiling.
Hiccup gave the Twins a weird look, before looking at the others to back him up, but really, no one knew what to do, so he was left hanging. Which he immediately shrugged off, going back to picking his food.
"You're seriously not going to do anything?" Astrid asked incredulously.
"And if I did anything, what would I do? What could I do? I can't really go barging into my father's – my home – and look for anything that might be able to prove that my father did accept me back," Hiccup said.
"Anything? Like what? Like the fact that he let you live in his home? I thought disowned children weren't allowed to live with their parents," Tuffnut cut in.
"That's putting it simply," Fishlegs muttered.
"Physical evidence. I need physical evidence. A letter, or better yet, his will," Hiccup explained, biting his lip. "But they're most likely going to be in my – his home – and I'm not allowed there without permission. Then Mildew could charge me with breaking and entering."
"That doesn't even make sense," Snotlout said, "It's not his house."
"But he'll be conveniently watching it when I do," Hiccup pointed out, sighing and laying his head on the table. He groaned, clenching his fists.
To be completely honest, Astrid had thought he didn't care, his indifference the night before certainly said that, but maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe she had needed to try harder to get him to agree, or maybe she had done the right thing, giving him space and letting him decide what to do on his own. But all the maybes in the world didn't matter at the moment. What mattered was her helping him now, helping with his decision now. And if he wanted to get his inheritance back, then so be it, she'd help him. "Sounds like you've been thinking about this. Did you get any sleep last night?" A tease, a nitpick at the time when they weren't that much younger, fighting Viggo Grimborn and Hiccup had fallen to his obsessive ways, desperately trying to defeat the Dragon Hunter Chief.
Hiccup shrugged, sitting up and saying, "Doesn't matter."
Actually, it does, Astrid thought but kept silent, knowing that if she interrupted his train of thought, he'd never get anywhere with his newest mission: finding proof that he was Stoick's heir.
"I still need permission from Stoick's 'real' heir to be able to access any documents that might be able to refute Mildew's argument," Hiccup continued, looking up and asking, "Think you can ask your dad, Snotlout?"
"Oh…maybe. He's been acting weird since the verdict," Snotlout said, shrugging. Then, glancing around to make sure no one besides the other Dragon Riders was looking, he leaned forward and whispered something in Hiccup's ear.
Hiccup laughed, a small, sad thing, and said, "Welcome to my world, Snotlout. Or at least, what my world used to be." Then he fell silent once more, staring at his hands in his lap.
The rest of them followed suit, not sure what to say or do. And if they, the people who knew Hiccup the best didn't know what to do, imagine what poor Valka felt. She must have been absolutely lost, but at least she was here with Hiccup now, when he needed her most, instead of being off with her little dragon friends, playing feral dragon vigilante. Twenty years couldn't be made up, but Astrid let Valka off the hook because the lady was at least trying. That was all anyone could do at the moment with Hiccup: try, try, and try.
"We should get started," Astrid announced, standing up, feeling the need to give something to do to Hiccup. "We'll split up. Snotlout will ask his dad and the rest of us will take a look at the Archives."
"Right." Hiccup nodded. "Let's."
"What'd he say?" Fishlegs practically pounced as soon as Snotlout walked into the Archives.
"Well, he doesn't have the look of defeat he usually does when he's survived an encounter with his father," Hiccup muttered to Astrid, who couldn't help but give him a small grin.
Was it him learning to cope or was him returning to the Hiccup from before just a way for him to hide himself? Astrid wasn't sure, but she made herself a promise to get to the bottom of it. Hiccup was in need of healing and so help it, she would help him. No matter how long that took.
"Half an hour. My dad gave us half an hour to search the Haddock House. I think he's scared of Mildew coming after him and making the Council give the throne to someone who doesn't support you," Snotlout explained. "Which doesn't make sense. He could handle Mildew's weak sauce butt any day."
"Actually, it does," Tuffnut said. "Hiccup's the one who's been protecting Berk from all those big nasties. Drago's Bewilderbeast. The Red Death. Not that we didn't help with that, I mean, come on."
"But without Hiccup, Berk would probably be nothing more than a pile of burnt rocks or ice," Ruffnut added.
"So, the most likely scenario is that Spitelout knows being on Hiccup's side is a good investment long-term and that to do that, he needs to help Hiccup get his inheritance back because of all that stuff that happened with his father," Tuffnut finished.
"I really enjoy people talking about me like I'm not there," Hiccup said, raising an eyebrow.
But of course, they ignored him.
"Or, you know, Spitelout could be helping Hiccup because it's the right thing," Astrid pointed out.
"Yes, or that," Tuffnut agreed, before turning back to sorting through all sorts of documents.
"Hey, does anyone else think it's weird that Berk keeps all of these?" Snotlout asked as Fishlegs accidentally knocked a pile of papers over, spilling them onto the loudmouth Viking.
"Most of these are treaties and letters that past Chiefs kept to show other Tribes their deals in case they forgot," Hiccup informed, knowing exactly what his friends would ask next.
"So…blackmail?" the expected half of the group asked.
"Yes. Blackmail," Hiccup replied, deciding not to fight against it.
Pick your battles.
Another thing his father taught him, and he'd been using it on his friends for years.
Pick your battles, know when to back down, know when to cover your tracks, and when to be glaringly obvious.
A lot of his father's lessons had been battle-oriented, but Hiccup found that they could be applied to a lot.
Games, regular interactions with the Twins, stuff like that.
Before Hiccup could let himself be taken away by the memories, Snotlout kicked the paper piling at his feet away (earning a sharp hiss from Fishlegs in retaliation), and said, "Well, we need to go now. Or soon-ish, because I'm not sure how long this deal will last."
"Right. Let's go." Hiccup stood up, brushing the dust off his pants, and followed Snotlout out of the Archives.
"This is gonna take ages," Snotlout groaned, clutching his head at the sight of the boxes Hiccup had brought out, each filled with paper. "I'm going to have wasted…you know what? You don't need to know that."
"Wait. Deal?" Hiccup asked, setting the box down. "You made a deal?"
Snotlout rolled his eyes and began to dig through the box, effectively and rather rudely ignoring the other Viking.
"Snotlout…what deal?"
"Let's just say, this wasn't entirely done out of the kindness of his heart." Snotlout shrugged. "Doesn't matter. It's not like it was super…pricey, you know? Otherwise, I wouldn't have taken it. I just don't want to do it."
"Do what?"
"Just some chores that he said he would do but hasn't." Again, Snotlout shrugged, then at the look on Hiccup's face, demanded, "What?"
Hiccup shook his head and began to help look through the papers. "Nothing."
When they were kids, Hiccup had always wondered why the two of them didn't become friends. He had always thought they could complain about their fathers together, laugh about the shortcomings of their fathers, and stuff like that. But now that they were friends, he realized that stuff like that was harder to talk about than to think about.
Their fathers weren't bad people, Stoick hadn't been, and Spitelout wasn't.
But that didn't change the issues they left in their sons. Maybe all parents did. The ones who didn't care for their kids, those kids would have to grow up too fast or not know how to be decent people. The ones who were overprotective could leave the whole "you'll never be good enough" in their children's brains. The ones in between would have their own shortcomings.
Maybe, but now wasn't the time to be philosophical. Hiccup had to find some proof to beat Mildew.
Time to find his father accepting him as his heir.
The two worked through the piles of papers, neither having much luck. A few things they found, but overall were just tidbits, nothing substantial. Maybe if they put all of those together, but Hiccup needed something big. Like Stoick's will.
He knew his father had written one! He had seen it! But where was it? Where?
"He must have hid it," Hiccup sighed, standing up.
"Great. Just as our time is up," Snotlout groaned, joining Hiccup as he walked out of the Haddock House.
Just before he passed the doorframe, out into the waiting village beyond, he placed a hand on it, looking back into the house. Yes, he knew it must have been cliche or sappy, but he felt the need to silently (because Snotlout was still there, obviously) promise his dad he'd get it back.
He had to.
This was his home.
That must have been why Mildew was willing to do this. Hiccup understood that now. Mildew lost some of his inheritance and it wasn't the value money-wise that was important to the old man (which…would probably have been totally out of character, if he really thought about it, but he didn't, so there), but something else. Something else, like how Hiccup didn't want his home back just because he didn't want to live at his girlfriend's. It had been his father's home. Not just Hiccup's.
Just then, Snotlout yelped, snatching his hand up, away from the papers he had been holding in his hand, as a Nadder spine smacked into the papers. Luckily, Snotlout wasn't hit, but the papers were speared through, and the momentum of the spine sent them flying into a puddle of mud, pinning them down in it as the spine embedded itself in the ground.
"What? NO!" Snotlout shouted, lunging to rip the spine out of the ground, which came out with a loud squelch that made Hiccup flinch for reasons unknown. Probably because that squelch sounded like it shouldn't have existed. Snotlout gingerly picked the papers up, trying not the smear the splatters of mud on them and holding them up, examining them from all angles. "They're ruined." He looked up at Hiccup, deflating, and repeating, "They're ruined. Hiccup, they're ruined."
"Where did that even come from?" Hiccup asked, looking around. Hiccup missed the point from time to time, easily getting distracted by things that didn't matter all that much, or maybe he missed the point intentionally and just wanted to know every little detail. Maybe he did focus on the important thing or another facet of important things. Thinking about it made Snotlout feel all philosophical, which he hated doing, but when one of his best friends had been acting weird the past few weeks, he decided to work through the hate.
Hiccup's eyes settled on something in the distance, behind them, from where the Nadder spine must have come. When Snotlout turned to figure out what he was looking for, he caught the briefest glimpse of a thin, white beard and green, almost moldy-looking clothes before it disappeared behind some buildings.
"Was that –"
"Mildew," Hiccup answered, his eyes turning to Snotlout. "It was Mildew." He sighed, walking to the nearest building, and leaning against its walls. Snotlout joined him, handing the Nadder spine over.
While Hiccup examined it (which was unnecessary since Hiccup had seen tons of those, but Snotlout figured to just let Hiccup have it and do with it what he will), Snotlout said, "I'm going to beat his bony butt."
"No, you aren't," Hiccup said, eyes still fixed on the spine. "You're really not going to take advantage of being the Chief's son, are you?"
"You've done it hundreds of times," Snotlout pointed out.
"Yeah, well, my father was also used to being Chief and he still punished me, you know," Hiccup replied, and then added, "And anyway, this is basically war. Don't want to aggravate the other side physically so they do something to us that's equally as bad."
"War?"
Hiccup pried his eyes from the spine, giving Snotlout a look that said he couldn't believe Snotlout had asked that. "Hyperbole, for the most part."
"I'm going to pretend I know what that means."
"It means that Mildew just started a dangerous game of sabotage," Hiccup replied.
"Well, if that's the case, let him bring it! We can take him any day," Snotlout said, crossing his arms and glaring at the ruined papers in his hands.
"You mean, let the games begin," Hiccup corrected.
Welp, first HTTYD one-shot on here! I hope y'all liked it! My one-shots aren't usually this long, but ig it's proof that I absolutely love HTTYD and just want to keep going and going and going. Oh well.
Anyway, let me know what you thought about it! I'd love to post more HTTYD one-shots, so knowing what I can do to improve and what I'm doing well would really help! OK, welp, have a nice day!