Three, stone walls, emitting the grand cold, linked to the fourth wall of the metal, rusty bars, as well as the swaying, empty chains, from whose edges dripped the scarlet blood, straight to the ground - that's been Hiccup's reality, for now. Generally, the deafening silence enveloped the space, yet the woman, seated at the cage's rear, having her knees curled to her chest, wouldn't stop hearing the cry that smashed her head, crushed her heart, that didn't even belong to her.
At that point, the only, that defined the time, was the rays of the red-colored sun, sneaking from farther outside, pouring into the nearest insides, as they'd shrouded the site with the greater havoc that it'd been, already. By that, the glow, limited by the black strips, fell onto Hiccup's hands, coloring them with the richest red, as if she'd got the dense, permanent blood all over her hands, the blood of people, which her father dragged to the nest, his blood itself, and Toothless's, worst of all.
For most of the time, she'd got her eyes fixed on them, however, within the passage of endless time, they'd traveled to the bloodstained puddle, just underneath the cracking steel, getting larger and larger by every second. Hence, having the constant reminder ahead of her sight, the ruthless scenes replayed themselves inside her head whereas she'd been their immobile watcher, way too weak to take any action, way too puny to protect what's closest, way too herself.
Maybe, it's because of this excuse, due to being so much absorbed by her mind, that she'd not noticed the upcoming steps, which finally, transformed into a short shadow, stripping her of the reddish, nuisance light. Primarily, she wasn't very eager to glimpse the cause, the intruder, yet being stricken by another, tremulous sound of broken bones, wanting to take her head away from it, she'd gazed to the side and almost leaped, at the sight itself.
Standing ahead of her was the woman, the elder namely, of height comparable to the two-thirds Hiccup's, maintaining the coral staff in her hand, her blue eyes locked on the younger lass, curiously, intrigued. As a matter of fact, it wasn't even the lady that surprised Hiccup the most - she'd known her, Gothi, she'd been the healer of their village - but rather her very presence here, especially after she'd spoken, without even stirring her lips.
"Good morning, Hiccup," Gothi greeted, and at the sound of her deep voice, the very mute Gothi's voice, orbiting inside her head currently, Hiccup could've only dropped her jaw, dumbfounded. "I believe, we have got a lot to talk about, do we not?"
At that absolutely confusing, impossible point, Hiccup didn't do anything at all, merely gaped at Gothi, her face washed in shock, her limbs static with the footing, whereas the elder smiled at her, actually amused. Eventually, she'd turn her eyes away from Berk's heir, glare them into the padlock at bars, which Stoic blocked hours ago, and effortlessly unlock it, within the mere graze of her wooden staff, opening the cage, quickly.
All done, she'd gazed back at Hiccup, who remained at her spot, and so seeing, Gothi's expression gained on puzzlement as she'd asked, "Why you are here?" to which the other reacted not less dazed, struck dumb.
"I-," she started, however, paused at last, straightened when reminded of the cruel reality. "I-I've been shut here by my father, I-,"
"Oh, but I do know, why you are here, generally. What I am asking, is why are you still here?" Gothi inquired, not bemused much, even if having the young woman's knitted brows at herself. "I have freed you, so should you not escape, already? I am certain, you have many people to save, including your shapeshifter pair."
Afterward, as much as another and another of questions pushed themselves at her lips, Hiccup decided on the ask, "How ya'd know, that I'm," although never finished, being interrupted by Gothi's joyful chuckle.
"How would I know that you are a shapeshifter?" she finished for her, and eyeing the other nod shily, answered, the grin always observable on her face. "Well, let me say that I studied various of our forefathers' books, and this one is, by far, my most favored."
Later on, like it could've been predicted, out of the pocket of her fur, lengthy vest, Gothi pulled out the quoted book, which, at the moment, seemed to be of the darker shade against the pale, wrinkled skin of the elder's fingers. Therefore, a weak, short smile appeared on Hiccup's face, yet soon, gazing from it to Gothi, who had her gray, bushy eyebrows cocked at her, the vexation crossed her expression, and she'd found herself even glaring at the older woman when asking.
"Ya'd known I'm a shapeshifter, for these five years?"
"No, only yesterday had I realized it when watching you with that Night Fury, how he has protected you, how you have protected him," Gothi explained, the gloom clouding her features until being repealed barely as she'd snorted, quickly. "Besides, I saw him change, so I could've put two and two together."
"Right," Hiccup agreed, grinning amused, before suddenly, her eyes swam with tears, which she couldn't wipe away, no matter how much she'd try. "I'm sorry, I'm just-, I'm just so fuckin' mad at myself. I've not talked with him, nor have I said goodbye, the last time. I've never told him that-,"
Subsequently, the sob had fled the young woman's lips, which, no matter being hidden behind her palm, sounded around the cage, and soon, she'd begun crying, ugly crying, crying so much that Gothi actually troubled. Finally, she'd decided to step in, entered the cell, and approached the hurting woman, before patting her head, and stating whilst not receiving any of Hiccup's reactions to her quite skeptical, awkward consolation."
"It is not a lost cause yet, dear."
"I'd not say so," Hiccup doubted and gazed at Gothi, her expression overtaken by despair, hopelessness. "Realistically, we'll be just another, dead example. Another pair of shapeshifters, whose only purpose is to be words on the page."
"Hiccup, do you suppose, their names were put into the book only to be that, the lettering, really?" Gothi questioned, then hardly slammed her staff into the floor, glimpsing the other's uncertainty. "No! It was to retain their memory, their fight over their gift!"
"Gift?" Hiccup snickered while wiping away her tears, and glanced at the elder as if she'd been crazy, frivolous. "Ye're callin' that curse a gift?"
"What you are naming the curse, others would call a blessing, a miracle," Gothi pressed, her face, out of the blue, taken over by the rage, directed at the chastened, young adult. "You have received the ability, to transform into the strongest and the smartest being. All the more, you have mastered the dragon language, which took thirty years and my voice away from me! So, do not belittle it."
„Okay, okay! I'm sorry," Hiccup apologized, gazing continually at Gothi, who sighed while nodding, calmly. "I've never meant to offend ya."
"I know, dear. I know," Gothi replied, softening her gaze at the woman, before making the suggestion when strolling to the cage's entrance, "Walk with me, child."
Immediately, Hiccup listened, stood up unhurriedly, and paced by Gothi's side, both leaving the cage soon, before directing themselves to the prison's exit, where the reddish sunlight had its very beginning. In the meantime, the younger woman must've actually shortened her steps, having to match the older's pace, ultimately yet, it wouldn't really matter, when being met with a question, which left her considerate.
"Hiccup, have you ever thought, why the gods had chosen you two?" Gothi asked, her eyes ahead, her chin lifted as she'd peeked at Hiccup, shortly. "Why would they choose the daughter of the chief of the most dragon-hating isle, and the dragon, which surely, was the witness of his kind's extinction?"
"I-, well, I've never," Hiccup confessed, continually gaping at Gothi, perplexed. "We've been chosen, because I'd freed Toothless."
"And you believe, it only took that?" Gothic inquired, glanced at the questioned girl, who, in return, departed her lips, troubled. "You have been chosen by your birth, sugar. It has been only these five years that you have been put to the test, finally."
"Alright, but," Hiccup started, then hesitated, rubbing her ring uncomfortably, although brought herself to it, at last, "how cruel ye've got to be, to put children through such a test, such a fate?"
"I think, from history, we know that gods never were very merciful, were they?" Gothi spotted, grinning at Hiccup, but as the other wouldn't even lift her mouth's corner at the comment, continued, "The world, no matter the blessings that it had bestowed us with, always entitled consequences, equivalent to the award. The same comes with you," she described, meeting the youngster's gaze, finally. "With a great prize, comes a great price."
"And what if," Hiccup began, twisting her fingers, tensing her shoulders, tight, "what if we ain't want it?"
"You mean you two, or rather him, only? After all, you do not seem very disturbed by that curse, to be honest," Gothi noticed, and Hiccup shrunk in herself, red-handed. "Well, you may always rely on the prophecy, although I hope you will not go that way, in the end."
"Why so?" Hiccup questioned, however, not being answered, whereas Gothi remained silent, as they'd stopped by the prison's door, asked, "Ya'd think, that there's still some chance to fight?"
Again, the elder didn't respond, but instead, stepped to the entrance, and left outside through it, whilst Hiccup followed just behind, instantly being blinded when being met with a bright, orange glare, which burned her wet eyes. Soon, she'd glimpsed around, at the isle's soil, deserted and quiet, however, catching the sight of her peers, nestled together, discussing ferociously, meeting her gaze with Astrid, who waved at her, she'd outright widened her eyes, stunned.
"I have talked with them, and they will help," Gothi declared whereas, barely, Hiccup lifted her hand, then glanced at her, surprised. "To be honest, there was not much convincing, to begin with."
"Why?" Hiccup asked instantly, fixing her hair, messed by the wind's blow.
"Stoic has taken everybody to fight at the nest, including their parents, not yet aware of the danger they have found themselves into. They would just want to save them," Gothi clarified, then turned her entire body toward the woman, and nudged her staff into Hiccup's chest, lightly, "and you will lead them to it."
Afterward, as if the staff's edge boiled with the fire, the younger woman's skin heated, with something she couldn't quite understand, before saying, "Thank ya, Gothi. I ain't know, if I'll ever repay ya," when beaming brightly.
"Just do one, in return," Gothi responded, closing up her expression, being serious, at once. "Save these, who are innocent, as well as the responsible ones, who, do not yet, see their guilt."
And so, just like that, not allowing any other word from Hiccup, Gothi left, turned on her heel, and walked away down the hill, the strong breeze and the bright rays being as if her comrades, accompanying her, constantly. In the meantime, Hiccup stared at her, blinking her eyes, but soon, locked them onto the rising sun, onto the dark sky above, having some stars still visible, and inside them, she glimpsed something, which she'd never before - hope.
It's been a few hours since he'd seen the stars the last time, currently being obscured by the dense fog that swallowed everything around, including the infinite ocean's water, which's existence was proved only by the remote whooshes. If one gazed around, the sights, at that point, covered only the stone stilts, which made the setting as if being an enormous maze, as well as the ships' wrecks, uttering their stories to every viewer, the horrendous stories.
Despite such an attractive, outstanding view, Toothless wouldn't be very bothered with it, his eyes, at the time, fixed on his hands, locked inside the heavy, metal cuffs, drenched in his own, scarlet blood. He'd not ever glanced away, mostly, due to the alternative not being very welcoming, containing the Vikings' glares only, but also, because of the wind, which, under the right angle, dried his eyes, to the point of forcing them to close.
He couldn't allow that, he couldn't risk being shrouded by the darkness, even if for a mere second, having in mind that, when so, behind his lids, he'd only see that - the terrified, hurting face of the beloved woman. Hence, he'd preferred that view, the view of his own pain, his own weakness, with the background of the trembling, wooden deck, belonging to the boat, which, at the moment, led everyone aboard to their certain death.
The truth being, he'd not ever gaze away probably, for the matter of the mentioned fact, ultimately yet, as he'd felt the intense stare at himself, as he'd sensed the presence nearby, he couldn't help but peek at the company, wrathfully. Thereby, he'd eyed the blond-haired man, whose long mustache outright flew by the influence of the breeze, his blue eyes lacking any hatred, darting with delight when drawing the ceramic bottle towards him.
"Here, drink some. Ya'll want to wash yer hands, by chance," the man suggested, gaining on the smile whereas Toothless narrowed his eyes at him, muddled. "I ain't poison it if that's what ye're thinkin' of."
Thereafter, not very convinced, Toothless kept his glower at the stranger, doubting his words until finally, getting to the conclusion that he'd been saying the truth, after all, they had needed him alive. Sooner than later, making the decision, he'd pulled his tied hands to the man, and so, he'd handed him the referred object, which content, rather very quickly, found itself inside Toothless's throat, quenching his hours-long thirst, at once.
It'd appeared that, anyhow, the survival instinct took over him then, because, as if forgetting the other man's, earlier words, within the deep, loud swallows, he'd drained the bottle empty, before returning it to the owner, as though indifferently. Subsequently, he'd expected the man to leave, however instead, he'd only grinned wider, and taken out another bottle from somewhere behind his back, yet wouldn't pass it again, but approached the puzzled, young adult, slowly.
Thus, before Toothless would've realized that, the blond sat just beside him, likewise leaning his back against the boat's frame, and washed the youngster's hands, who gaped at him, before saying, suddenly.
"You're Gobber, Hiccup's mentor, aren't you?" Toothless stated whereas Gobber's focus remained on his hands, slowly cleaned off of harm. "I've recognized the voice."
"Huh, I'd never guess my conversations with Hiccup were spied on!" Gobber implied, causing Toothless to smile, even if so merely and weakly. "And ye're that boyfriend of hers."
"I-, don't really know what that means," Toothless admitted, and after hearing Gobber's quiet chuckle, hardened his expression, reproachfully. "What you're doing here, Gobber? I'm almost certain, you know what's going on here. You know, he's taking you to perish."
"Oh, I know, boyo. I know. I think it'd be just for the better if he wasn't alone when he realizes that," Gobber explained, released the other's hands after finishing, and sighed whilst he'd not even gaze at him, anymore. "Ain't blame yerself, tho. I know ye're doin' it all for Hiccup, and I'm grateful for it."
"I'm not doing it for her, maybe a little," Toothless confessed, then glowered at baffled Gobber, his eyes not hiding any of his darkness. "I'm doing it so all of you fucking die."
Despite his very threat, despite his low voice seeping with dark honesty, Gobber wouldn't seem any startled nor alarmed, because, in the difference of so, he'd nodded, slightly smiling, and patted the younger man's shoulder. Afterward, as if nothing had happened, he'd stood up, dusted his clothing off the sand, which rolled against the surface of the deck by tons, and walked away, somewhere in the direction of the ship's beak, disappearing from Toothless's view.
Henceforth, he'd been left alone, sentenced to the views that he couldn't bypass, the views that reminded him of his wretched situation, over and over again, until being distracted from them, although not the way he'd wished. The moment he'd heard that high-pitched screech, he'd known to whom it'd belonged - the queen, who was summoning her new prey - at the thought itself the blood boiled inside his veins, plunging him into avenge.
Thereafter, he'd not been very surprised when Stoic approached him, asking about further directions to the isle, and Toothless was more than just eager to point them, following an irksome sound inside his ear. It could've been thought that it'd been only the beginning of the route, but in actuality, after around two hours, they'd reached the island, losing over four ships, yet managing to stop at the shore, without any people lost.
At once, the Vikings enclosed the craggy beach, setting up their weapons, their catapults, whilst Toothless watched only, himself getting on the island's surface only when being allowed to, ultimately. In the meantime, his eyes drilled the volcano at the center, even when coming down by the thin board, and only as he'd touched the ground, as he'd felt these rocks against his shoes, had he really shifted his attention.
Consequently, he'd glared at the chief, standing in all his pride, gazing at the mountain to be conquered, and, being allowed to stroll freely, having to sustain the shackles only, Toothless moved toward him, rather soundly stopped by him. When so, as Stoic turned to him, the grin painted itself on his face, his arms crossed at his stuck-out chest, whilst Toothless kept his eyebrows knitted, annoyed scanning the older man's smugness, although spoke up, finally.
"I've done my part of the deal," Toothless pointed out, merely hunched, yet not ever allowing the chief's posture to overwhelm him. "Your turn."
Immediately had Stoic known what he'd meant, hence, without any hesitation, having his eyes continually at Toothless, he'd pulled out of his pocket the crumpled paper, which, after unfolding, displayed rows of black letters - the letter. Out of a sudden, glancing to the side, the older man whistled at some woman, and so, understanding her commander's order, she rushed to him, soon stopped by the two, although maintained her dark, blue eyes at Stoic, only.
In the meantime, Toothless sized her up, her blond hair, which was tied into the tight crown, and sharp features being rather disgustingly familiar, until eventually, his attention shifted to the more important - the burning torch in her hand. Instantly, the shiver ran down his back at the view, all the more, when she'd handed it to Stoic, then left, although that wouldn't come across his focus, centered at the flaming fire, reflecting onto the green eyes.
Afterward, as if by accident, Stoic brushed the blaze along the downward of Toothless's chin, thus, the younger man outright flinched away, his breathing gaining in velocity, and despite him not expressing his scare, the chief smiled at these small signs, which show otherwise. Ultimately, after having that fun, the previous promise was fulfilled, and, holding the paper over the flames, they'd both watched as it'd vanished, turned into the ashes, before landing on the ground, blending with its gray, stone surface.
"Congratulations, ye've done it. Ye've become Hiccup's hero," Stoic praised, the irony evident in his voice, at which Toothless reacted with a roll of his eyes. "What a shame, the rest of the world knows ye're a monster, nevertheless."
"It's more than fine with me, you'd not believe it," Toothless responded, shrugging indifferently, before pulling out his hands, constantly locked in cuffs. "Now, open them up."
"Ye're jokin', ain't ya? Why'd I ever do that, so ya could've helped the others?" Stoic snickered, then shook his head, unbelievably. "Ya'd better just watch, and maybe, ya'll be some survivor, here."
Consequently, just like that, he'd walked away, not even bestowing Toothless with any final glance, whilst the youngster eyed him go, narrowed his eyes at him, very aware how he'd regret his words, soon. Thereafter, not having much to do either way, Toothless moved to the isle's shore, as far from the future battlefield as possible, yet sustained his eyes on it whereas he'd settled himself down at the rocks, not very comfortably.
It'd seemed that, with every growing minute, the Vikings were becoming, more and more, uncertain about the upcoming fight, at least those, who weren't appearing as Stoic's blind followers, who actually thought the situation through. He'd felt sorry for those, after all, they'd been here unwillingly most likely, and they'd been about to die for the man, who worried more about war than his own daughter, they'd been to die so needlessly, uselessly.
"Oh gods, ye've got a face as if someone died, already," Gobber said, as suddenly as it could've been thought, appearing just beside Toothless, the white steam coming out of his mouth, for any reason. "What?" he added, when having the other's stare at himself, especially at his fuming mouth, and finally, the realization transformed his face. "Oh, wanna smoke, too?"
Consequently, he'd draw forward his hand, which, between its fingers, held something, that appeared to be the miniature torch, thick as though being a luscious sausage, having the tip dipped into charing ashes. Primarily, Toothless didn't come across as interested, raised his eyebrow doubtfully as Gobber urged further, yet eventually, within the clamorous sigh, he'd given in, gallantly snatched the smoking object, although merely gaped at it, afterward.
Seeing so, seeing the young adult's confusion over the thing's destination, Gobber, at the very first, sniggered amused, before demonstrating to the man what to do, using the invisible, nonexistent one, which he'd brought to his lips, and breathed in. Subsequently, Toothless followed his movements, did everything by the book, however, regretted it as soon as the scorching, dense gas filled his lungs as if roasting his every organ, and he'd started coughing, uncontrollably.
At some point, precisely when hearing Gobber's laughter over himself, rasped in between the coughs, "What the fuck is this?!" and scowled at him, his eyes watered, slightly.
"And that's a cigar for ya, lad," Gobber clarified, his grin never fading, whereas Toothless drilled his eyes into it, disgusted. "I'm rather surprised that such a dragon, as I've seen ya be, can't stand a bit of fire in his chest. Ye're not breathin' it, perchance?"
"Oh, fuck off," Toothless cursed, he could've even turned into a chicken for sake, because the outcome would remain the same - the Gobber's loud snort. "What's that even for?"
"Eh, that's for easing up," Gobber explained, finding the other cigarette inside his pocket, then lightened it up, using the nearby, quite giant, bonfire, which was for everybody's use, most likely. "In such a moment, everybody needs it."
Thereafter, the older man's eyes stayed at some point onward, and so, leaving him some space, Toothless's attention remained on the cigarette, continually smoking between his fingers, even daring himself for the second try. Hence, the rolled papyrus found itself by his mouth, at that time, however, after inhaling, he'd not coughed nor teared up, only tasted the strange herb's mixture with his lungs, actually being able to, getting used to the experience.
If asked, he'd not ever admitted it, but, at that precise moment, he'd felt as though being his dragon self, the only difference being the flavor itself, rather than the natural, ordinary one replaced by that of fried, dried grass. By the third time, he'd not even realized it, when he'd been taking another toke, his eyes returning to Gobber curiously, whose ones lingered invariably, and as Toothless followed them, he could not refrain from a grimace.
Ahead of them, as if in celebration, about a dozen Vikings gathered together, laughing, and even singing, including the chief himself, smiling brightly, his arm hung at someone's shoulders, and so watching, Toothless couldn't help but ask, suddenly.
"Why is he like this?" he questioned, furrowing his eyes annoyed, breathing in smoke, aware of Gobber's glance at himself. "Why is he so likable for everybody but his daughter?"
"Well, eghm, that's not an easy ask," Gobber muttered, circling his ax prosthesis anxiously, yet finally, added, "If I were to guess, I'd say 's because he doesn't know any better."
Hence, thereafter, hearing his rather poor, lame excuse, Toothless merely rolled his eyes, the irritation overtaking his face, the outright bitterness, and so glimpsing, Gobber wouldn't say a word firstly, yet forced himself, finally.
"When I was around sixteen years old, I owned the forge, already. My parents were quick to pass away, but that's not the very point of the story," Gobber started, smoking his cigar whereas Toothless stared at him, actually intrigued. "The point is, the bigger my surprise, when, after just endowin' the buildin', just by the door, I met Stoic, for the very first time, beaten up to death by his father, simply for being with Valka."
"Valka?" Toothless inquired, some kind of gear working inside of his head. "Hiccup's mother?"
"Yeah, that's the one. Let's just say, the chief wasn't pleased with the idea of his son being with the village's runt, and Stoic was too stubborn to undergo his father's word," Gobber recalled, smiling even at the memory itself. "I still remember these times, when Stoic, having nowhere else to go, would come to the forge, rant about his father, and I'd listen, treat his wounds - I'd enjoyed them highly, admittin' shamefully."
"Okay, that's quite a story, but I don't really understand what you're trying to say," Toothless pointed out, then crossed his arms, avoiding the contact between his clothing and the cigar. "If that's supposed to be some sort of fucking excuse for him-,"
„Nah, he'd done bad, there's no excuse for it, but it might help to understand him more," Gobber remarked, managing to soften Toothless's narrowed eyes, at least slightly. "After all, in the end, Stoic insisted on his, married Valka, became the chief, despite his father's very threats, and came to be stronger than ever."
Subsequently, as though not touched by his words, Toothless took his eyes off Gobber, gazed somewhere to the side, and with so, his stare landed perfectly on the devil, which they'd been speaking of, just as cheerful around his people as before. He'd knitted his eyebrows at the view - he'd not changed his mind, even for Gobber's tale, saw him as a cruel man, who despised his daughter for any reason possible, yet, anyhow, saw something more as well, saw himself.
"He wants the same for her, to fight for herself, to prove herself, finally," Gobber finished, his cigarette burnt out in his hold, which he'd hurled away, resulting in its disappearance among the stones. "Either way, I'd not be so surprised about his acts. Heck, if my daughter had done something similar, endangered her life for the enemy, I'd have gone mad also, probably."
Afterward, Toothless had been kind of tongue-tied, although wouldn't show that much, gazed at Gobber, ready to speak, however at last, he'd not been allowed to, interrupted by the noise of the horn, their eyes turning toward it, at once.
"Ah, and here's for the beginning," Gobber murmured, his voice almost unable to tell, having no chance against the war's melody traveling the air, though reaching Toothless's ears, anyhow. "Well, I'll be goin'. Maybe, after it ends, we'll have one more chance to talk, one more smoke to take, how about that?"
Instantly, as if truly joyful, Toothless grinned, actually considering the invite, yet ultimately, aware of the idea's absurdity, the smile weakened, and he said, "Goodbye, Gobber," narrowing his eyes when getting rid of his own cigarette.
Thereafter, having much to say, having what to stay for, Gobber had only sighed, stared at the younger man for a second, his eyes filled with various words, before nodding at him, then vanishing, somewhere onward, toward the volcano itself. When so, Toothless wouldn't flee his eyes off him, kept them on his back, until his gaze came upon the mountain itself, the very reminder of the tragedy, which was about to happen, the mass murder.
He'd outright leaped as the first rock went flying into it, stripping the gravel assembly off the construction's parts, and when so, searching for the very source of it, he'd glimpsed it - the working catapults, making their way through the stone for Vikings. Before he could've realized that, another dozen of these smashed the hill, deprived it out of the shape, whereas the sound was as if Toothless's heartbeat - loud, hastening more and more with every second.
The moment the remnant, which shielded the mountain's insides, plunged into the soil, he'd known it was the end, already.