Lightning and Death Itself Deleted Scene 6
A/N
When I posted the first part of "Lightning and Death Itself," and then added the deleted scenes, several reviewers asked for one specific scene. I like making my readers happy, but I didn't write that scene, for the simple reason that I couldn't think of how to do it properly. It was sure to be a very emotional scene, I had no ideas, and I didn't want to do a half-hearted job of it. I finally got a few ideas, so now, years after I wrote the original batch of deleted scenes, I can tell this part of the tale. This takes place near the end of Chapter 23 (ending 1-A). I apologize for this part of the story being out of order. Better late than never, I hope.
o
DAD, CAN WE TALK?
The dragon called him "Dad," and Stoick the Vast, chief dragon-slayer of the Vikings of Berk, still struggled with that. It was barely two weeks since he'd been forced to accept the fact that his son was a Night Fury now, and his dragon-slaying days were over. He still wasn't accustomed to the sight of dragons in his village, especially Night Furies. For seven generations, the black dragons had been his tribe's most elusive and destructive enemies. Now he had two of them for neighbors; one was his son and the other was his daughter-in-law. It was his son Hiccup who had landed right in front of him and was writing runes in the dirt five feet away from him... or, at least, that's what he kept telling himself. But his eyes and his ears told him otherwise. He'd been fighting dragons, and dragons had been fighting him, all his life. Old habits died hard. He backed away in spite of himself.
"Well... I can talk, but I thought you couldn't."
The Night Fury grunted and rolled his eyes.
WHATEVER. CAN WE STEP ASIDE
AND COMMUNICATE ABOUT
SOMETHING IMPORTANT?
Stoick considered how best to answer that. He was still uncomfortable (to say the least) communicating with dragons, unless that communication involved weapons in some way. He knew that he had to learn some new habits and unlearn some old ones if he wanted to keep any kind of relationship with his son-turned-dragon. Hiccup seemed to be completely at ease in his new body; the discomfort was all on Stoick's side. That didn't make anything easier. Maybe stalling for time would help.
"Hiccup, I've got a very busy day ahead of me. I've got to help the tribe rebuild after losing most of our ships and our heavy weapons to that Red Death dragon. I've got dozens of newly-arrived dragons roaming my streets who don't know how to behave in a Viking village. I've got all my people wondering how they're supposed to treat those dragons, with no guidance except from a few of the teens. We're still trying to lay aside enough food to get us through the winter. We're still repairing some of the damage from the last raid by those thieving dragons... uhh, no offense intended. And I've got Gobber, whose metalwork is vital to getting us back on our feet, endlessly complaining that he can't get any work done without his apprentice to help him, and his apprentice is now a dragon who can't hold tools. Whatever you want to talk about, can it wait?"
HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING
TO MAKE ME WAIT?
That stung. The chief knew that he'd kept his son at arm's length for most of his life. It wasn't until Hiccup had mysteriously disappeared a few months ago that he'd realized how important his son really was to him. That made him realize that he hadn't treated that son well, and he still wasn't treating him well. Admitting that he'd been wrong would be hard; making amends would be harder. Maybe it would help if he showed his dragon/son that he really wanted to change, even if that change wasn't going to happen overnight. All right, then. He would do something he'd never done before. He would put the rest of his schedule on 'hold' for a few minutes for the sake of his family, and see what his son wanted.
"Let's go down to the lower sheep pastures, uhh, son. We'll be alone there, and there's lots of room for you to write your runes." The Hiccup-dragon nodded and bounded into the air. He landed in the lower pastures a good ten minutes before Stoick got there, mostly because the chief was waylaid by an angry wool carder who demanded to know who was going to shovel up the dragon droppings in her front yard. The Night Fury cooled his heels with barely-concealed impatience until his father finally arrived.
"What's on your mind, son?"
DRAGONS.
THE ONES WHO
DIED IN THE WAR
A dozen alarms went off in Stoick's head. Where was this going? Nowhere good; he was sure of that much. His son was a dragon now, so he'd probably take the dragons' side when talking about the war. But he used to be human and dreamed of killing dragons, even though his dreams never came true (and were sometimes a nightmare to the other Vikings of Berk). Stoick still took quiet pride in the dragons he'd killed and chased away from the village, although he knew it would be in poor taste to brag about them publicly anymore. Wherever this discussion was headed, it was sure to be uncomfortable.
"What about the dragons?"
ONE IN PARTICULAR.
A SMALL GREEN NADDER.
YOU KILLED HER YOURSELF
THE NIGHT ALL YOUR
CATAPULTS BLEW UP
"You mean, the night you blew up all our catapults?" The accusation was out of his mouth before he thought it through.
I MEAN THE NIGHT I WRECKED
SOME INANIMATE OBJECTS AND
DIDN'T HURT ANYONE.
BUT YOU KILLED MY LITTLE SISTER!
The Night Fury in front of him wasn't making the puppy-dog eyes at him now. Its eyes were deep pools of pain and anger. For a moment, Stoick worried that the creature might be on the verge of attacking him. He firmly reminded himself (again) that this ferocious-looking beast was his son. That would protect him from the dragon's rage. He hoped.
"Hiccup, what are you talking about? You never had a sister. You're an only child! And if you did have a sister, she would not have been green and scaly! That doesn't run in either side of the family."
I ADOPTED HER BECAUSE SHE KEPT
FOLLOWING ME AROUND. I TRIED
TO TAKE CARE OF HER. BUT WHEN
SHE NEEDED ME THE MOST,
I COULDN'T HELP HER BECAUSE
THAT WOULD MEAN KILLING YOU
"Well... I'm glad you didn't do that, but –"
I ALMOST FIREBALLED YOU ANYWAY
That shut Stoick's mouth for several seconds. He was doing his best to remind himself that this Night Fury was really his son, and now his son had forcefully reminded him that he was really a Night Fury.
DAD, SHE NEVER HURT ANYONE!
SHE WAS JUST DOING HER DUTY
TO HER TRIBE, TRYING TO BRING
BACK ENOUGH FOOD SO THE
MOTHER DRAGON WOULDN'T
EAT HER. ANY VIKING WOULD
HAVE DONE THE SAME
"Son... how could I have known any of that? All I saw was a dragon stealing my people's food! Was I supposed to let her get away, on the off-chance that she was somehow related to the Night Furies that I didn't know I was related to? You're not being fair to me, Hiccup!"
DAD
The dragon broke off. One teardrop rolled down the side of his face. That kind of weakness would have hardened him against Hiccup; somehow it didn't seem so bad when coming from a dragon. The dragon was asking his father to have compassion on a creature that was nothing but "the enemy" – an inhuman, soulless, impersonal enemy – to Stoick until very, very recently. He still wasn't sure he could think of a dragon as a person. It was hard enough to think of the dragon right in front of him as a person, and this dragon was his own son! How could they ever resolve this?
THAT LITTLE DRAGON WAS ONE OF
MY CLOSEST FRIENDS. WATCHING
YOU KILL HER WAS THE SECOND-
HARDEST THING I'VE EVER GONE THROUGH
Stoick took a deep breath. "I hate to ask, but what was the hardest thing? Was it turning into a dragon? Was it attacking your own town?" He didn't dare ask: was it something I did to you?
NO, THE HARDEST THING WAS
STARTING TO AVENGE HER, THEN
SEEING THAT I WAS ABOUT TO
KILL YOU. THAT BROKE ME
That statement nearly broke Stoick.
After all the years of neglect and contempt and borderline abuse, how could his son possibly still feel a normal son-to-father bond? If the hardest thing Hiccup had ever been through was a near-miss on his own father, what did that say about how much he loved his father? Stoick knew he had done absolutely nothing to deserve such loyalty, nothing at all. Why hadn't the boy just let go of that nonexistent bond, hardened his heart against the father who was never there for him, and made his own way through life? That would have been the sensible thing to do.
That was when the chief realized that his son was every bit the boar-headed, stubborn Viking his father ever was, even though the son wasn't a Viking anymore. He had maintained his love for his father, even though that love was almost completely one-sided. He had become a warrior and a leader among his kind, with no help or guidance from his father at all; he'd done it on his own. He was entitled to the same respect that any warrior and leader in his tribe should receive. He'd earned it.
But how do you show a warrior's respect to a dragon?
"This... this green Nadder. She really meant a lot to you?"
SHE WAS MY CLOSEST FRIEND, ASIDE
FROM THE OTHER NIGHT FURIES.
SHE MADE ME SMILE.
LOOKING OUT FOR HER MADE ME
GROW UP FASTER
"Son, there was no way I could have known any of this. If I had known... I don't know if it would have changed anything, but I can't undo what has already been done. If it means anything, she was probably the last dragon I'll ever fight."
DAD, SHE WASN'T JUST A CASUALTY IN A
SENSELESS WAR. LOSING HER MADE ME
WANT TO END THAT WAR INSTEAD OF
TRYING TO WIN IT.
WE CAN'T LET HER MEMORY FALL
The moment he read that last line, Stoick knew exactly what he had to do. It would be unconventional in the extreme, but Stoick's entire existence had become unconventional the moment he realized he had a Night Fury for a son. "Hiccup, I think I can make that happen. It may take me a week or two, but I promise you, your friend's memory will not fall."
Somehow, the reptilian face looked surprised.
DAD, I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU
HAVE IN MIND, BUT THANK YOU
FOR BEING WILLING TO TRY
After a few awkward moments of silence, the dragon took wing and was quickly out of sight. Stoick spent the rest of the day doing heavy-duty chief things, as he'd predicted. But as the sun went down, he caught up with his oldest, truest friend.
"Gobber, you've been telling me that you can't do much smithing without help from Hiccup, right?"
"Perhaps I've grown a wee bit lazy, but I canna do much of anything in me forge these days, Stoick. I'm used to handin' off th' simple jobs to me apprentice. Hiccup is all black an' scaly now, an' while he's better at lightin' fires in th' forge, he's much worse at sharpenin' tools an' straightenin' bent iron. He's even more useless than 'e was before, if that's possible."
"He may not be of much use in the forge, Gobber, but I think his useless days are done. But since you can't do your smithwork, I've got a special job for you. You know where we put the bodies of the dragons we killed during the raids, right?"
"Aye, o' course I do. I've helped drag dozens of 'em there, lettin' the scavengers pick 'em over, then smashin' an' grindin' up the bones fer fertilizer. I've not been there since th' last raid, though. It's the dead o' winter, so th' scavengers haven't been doin' much to 'em, an' I dinna think we'd be addin' dragons to the pile anymore. What do ye have in mind?"
Stoick told him. Gobber shook his head. "Stoick, have ye taken leave o' yer senses? That would take twenty men an' at least three days o' hard work! Th' ground is frozen solid."
"I'm sure you're right, Gobber. Twenty men, you say? You'll be Man Number One. Find nineteen more, grab the tools you'll need, and get started. This is a personal project, not a town project, so don't skip any vital work to do this. But we can't do much sailing or fishing while the ocean is iced over, so you should be able to find some sailors with time on their hands. Tell them the chief wants this done. Get to it, starting tomorrow!"
"Aye, I'll get to it," the smith grumbled as he turned away. "I canna think o' any possible reason fer this, but I'll get it done."
It actually took him five days to finish the project; Gobber hadn't counted on the time it took to do the engraving. But five days later, the chief asked his son to walk with him. The Astrid-dragon followed them, curious, as they left the confines of the village and headed for the town's burial grounds.
There, among the barrows of Vikings gone by, they found a new and unusually large burial mound, with a plain standing stone erected in front of it. The engraving on the stone was deep and would stand the test of time.
Here Lies Nadder-Green-
Follows-New-Night-Fury,
Who Died Doing Her Duty
For Her Tribe.
Her Death Helped Bring Peace
Between Men And Dragons.
May Her Sacrifice
Not Be Forgotten.
Hiccup read it three times. Astrid could see that he was close to tears. She was the first to comment.
WON'T THE VIKINGS SAY YOU'RE
DISHONORING THEIR DEAD BY
BURYING A DRAGON NEXT TO THEM?
"Some of them might say that," Stoick said with a shrug. "Let them. If we're all going to live together from now on, then there can't be any lines drawn between us. Hiccup tells me that this dragon was really my adopted daughter, even though I never knew it. If that's true, then this –" and he gestured at the barrow and the stone "– is the right thing to do for a... a family member." He paused, thought hard about what he was about to say. "I wish things could have worked out differently with that dragon and me."
Hiccup slowly nodded, then wrote:
THANK YOU, DAD.
MAYBE YOU DO GET IT.
WE CAN'T UNDO THE PAST,
BUT WE CAN MAKE
A BETTER FUTURE
"A better future," Stoick thought out loud. "I used to think that meant life without dragons. Now, it means life with dragons. I can't say I know what that means, or how we're going to work it out. But if you and I can learn to see eye-to-eye on something, than anything is possible!"
YOU ALWAYS DID SAY A VIKING
CAN DO ANYTHING IF HE PUTS
HIS MIND TO IT. MAYBE
THAT'S TRUE FOR DRAGONS, TOO
Man and dragon, father and son, walked back to the village. They were not totally at ease with each other, but they walked together.