Chiefing Business: Incomplete

 

They reached Berk just in time for supper. Toothless, having his fill of fish, left the house early. As Hiccup finished his dinner and prepared to leave, a heavy hand caught his arm, and he struggled in the crushing grip.

“Dad! Not again,” he complained through gritted teeth.

“We need to have a talk,” Stoick said, dragging his son behind him, Hiccup's boot scuffing the floor.

“I can’t talk if you’re cutting off my blood circulation!” Hiccup exclaimed, his forearm throbbing numbly. “Besides,” he added thoughtfully, “can’t we talk tomorrow? I’ve got plans for the evening.” He was half-lying, and he hoped his face didn’t show an ounce of it.

“Son,” Stoick sighed, seating himself down, “has anyone ever told you how bad a liar you are?”

“Uhh…” His face flushed scarlet. “Once? Twice? Maybe three times?” Hiccup diverted the subject fluidly. “Look, Dad, why are you asking such questions? Wasting all your precious time? Wouldn’t you rather, say, I don’t know, go to sleep? I’m sure you've been having a rough day today-”

“I know what you’re doing, Hiccup.” Stoick interrupted with a booming voice.

“What?” he laughed nervously. “I’m not doing anything.”

Stoick wagged a finger at him. “Of course you are. You’re purposely avoiding the discussion and getting me off topic.”

He was getting more perceptive. And his arm was getting more sore.

"Listen to me, son. You're all grown up now, in your twenties, and I think it's time for you to learn the ways of chiefing."

Hiccup groaned inwardly, not wanting to have the discussion. "Before you continue, I have a favor to ask of you. Can you let go of my arm now?"

"Oh. Sorry." His father released his arm, and Hiccup slowly felt the blood returning to him. He kneaded the sore arm until it was back to normal.

"Now," Stoick rested his head on his knotted hands, "it's been a long time since we last had a talk. I'm getting old, Hiccup, and soon you will have to take my position as chief." He sighed, and in that moment Hiccup noticed the wrinkles on his father's forehead, the unevenness in his skin tone, the bags under his weary eyes.

In reality it had only been two days since they had conversed, but Hiccup decided he wouldn't point it out.

To be a Leader

 

They reached Berk just in time for supper. Toothless, having his fill of fish, left the house early. As Hiccup finished his dinner and prepared to leave, a heavy hand caught his arm, and he struggled in the crushing grip.

“Dad! Not again,” he complained through gritted teeth.

“We need to have a talk,” Stoick said, dragging his son behind him, Hiccup's boot scuffing the floor.

“I can’t talk if you’re cutting off my blood circulation!” Hiccup exclaimed, his forearm throbbing numbly. “Besides,” he added thoughtfully, “can’t we talk tomorrow? I've got plans for the evening.” He was half-lying, and he hoped his face didn't show an ounce of it.

“Son,” Stoick sighed, seating himself down, “has anyone ever told you how bad a liar you are?”

“Uhh…” His face flushed scarlet. “Once? Twice? Maybe three times?” Hiccup diverted the subject fluidly. “Look, Dad, why are you asking such questions? Wasting all your precious time? Wouldn't you rather, say, I don’t know, go to sleep? I’m sure you've been having a rough day today-”

“I know what you’re doing, Hiccup.” Stoick interrupted with a booming voice.

“What?” he laughed nervously. “I’m not doing anything.”

Stoick wagged a finger at him. “Of course you are. You’re purposely avoiding the discussion and getting me off topic.”

He was getting more perceptive. And his arm was getting more sore.

"Listen to me, son. You're all grown up now, in your twenties, and I think it's time for you to learn the ways of chiefing."

Hiccup groaned inwardly, not wanting to have the discussion. "Before you continue, I have a favour to ask of you. Can you let go of my arm now?"

"Oh. Sorry." His father released his arm, and Hiccup slowly felt the blood returning to him. He kneaded the sore arm until it was back to normal.

"Now," Stoick rested his head on his knotted hands, "it's been a long time since we last had a talk. I'm getting old, Hiccup, and soon you will have to take my position as chief." He sighed, and in that moment Hiccup noticed the wrinkles on his father's forehead, the unevenness in his skin tone, the bags under his weary eyes.

In reality it had only been two days since they had conversed, but Hiccup decided he wouldn't point it out.

"So, uh Dad," he said, trying to maintain conversation. "How's Skullcrusher?"

Stoick perked up at the name. "Oh, he's wonderful, Hiccup. You shoulda seen him in action! He tracks down the twins in a minute flat!"

"Well, the Rumblehorn is in the Tracker Class, Dad. So is the Nadder."

Stoick waved his hand dismissively. "A Nadder's hardly the dragon for me," he harrumphed. "Always preening themselves extensively. Who's going to see them, anyways?"

"Maybe the males?"

Stoick ignored his comeback. "They only have two legs as well. How do they even lift their upper body weight? Oh, and the spines too-"

"So who's getting off topic now," Hiccup muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Uh, nothing," he said hurriedly. "I said, um, it's getting late now. I should get Toothless and go to bed. Yeah." Hopefully he sounded genuine.

"Oh. Okay then. Alright. You go get your dragon and get some rest. Tomorrow's a busy day."

"Yeah Dad." Hiccup turned to leave. "Oh hey. Do you know where Astrid went?"

Stoick stood up, stretching his back. "She's gone with Stormfly on an excursion. Training for the upcoming Dragon Race. Well, I'm off to bed too." His broad back headed towards his room of residence. "I'll see you in the morning, then."

"G'night." Hiccup greeted, then when was certain he was no longer in view or within earshot, he took off, his long legs bounded out the door, almost tripping over himself in his rush.

“Toothless,” he called out. Toothless was sniffing at the air, shaking his head irritably. “What’s wrong, bud?” Hiccup asked, concerned.

The sky had become overcast, with dark shadows cast on the grass and trees. “It’s going to rain,” Hiccup realized. And Astrid isn't back yet.

Droplets dripped down from the sky and showered the boy and his dragon in wet rain. Toothless shook himself off, then slunk back into the safety of the house.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Hiccup chastised. Toothless grunted, then came by Hiccup’s side. Hiccup checked his flight suit, making sure everything was working. Then with a shot of air they were gone, the flattened grass the only sign of them being there at all.

MudkipStar

31 May 2014, 22:40

Awesome, can't wait for the next chapter!

Search

 

By the time they had reached the middle of the forest, they were drenched, sopping wet faces staring out in the gloom.

The constant rainfall drowned out Hiccup’s worried call.

“Astrid?”

The silence of the forest had him agitated. Where could she be? She couldn’t have gone far.

He’d predicted that Astrid had come to the forest, after all, that was where she had been practicing the last few times Dragon Races was approaching. Hiccup smiled as the warm memory painted itself in his mind, with colours as soft as a watercolour palette…

The wind blazed through him, ruffling his hair as he shot in the sky at breakneck speeds. Toothless cooed, blasting a bolt of plasma fire into the open. Hiccup lifted his head in pleasure.

And then he was tumbling down towards the earth.

Toothless emitted a sound of horror as he gyrated out of his control. Hiccup forced his eyes open and realized the problem: Toothless’ tailfin had been punctured. But how?

The culprit was, as Hiccup had never suspected, a tree. A tree branch, to be exact, had ripped through the smooth material and had left a parting gift: gaping pockmarks of all shapes and sizes.

If Hiccup could slap his forehead at the moment, he would have. They had been flying through a section of the densely populated forest barely a minute ago, and for some stupid reason Hiccup had insisted on staying low, keeping towards the ground where the art of accidental ripping was at its finest. He should have known not to fly in the middle of sharp branches and limbs; usually his common sense would tell him to run through instead. But he ignored it, thinking of his own pleasures and not of the possible dangers and ramifications he would have to deal with later.

Hiccup reached desperately for the reins. There was a jarring sound that spliced through his ears, whistling. Seconds later, he landed on something hard, and his body went limp.

A finger prodded at his backside and he winced. “Ow!” he cried out, hugging his waist with his arms. Then his sense came back to him. “Wait, who are you?”

He felt himself being lifted upright. He opened his eyes slightly and stared into an ocean of blue. A punch landed on his shoulder.

“You should be more careful next time, numbskull,” Astrid teased scornfully, head craned his way. “Good thing me and Stormfly caught you, otherwise I sincerely don’t know where you’d be.” Stormfly chattered proudly at the mention.

“A-Astrid? What are you doing here? Where’s Toothless?”

When she didn't respond, Hiccup followed her gaze, and was shocked to see Toothless gliding, albeit a little shakily, with the mismatched surface area of his tailfins disrupting a perfect descent. Wings spread out, they caught the air like sails on a ship.“He’s learned,” Hiccup whispered softly. Or maybe he had always been able to glide from the air by himself, and it was just that Hiccup had never given him a chance. Perhaps he could let Toothless try solo gliding sometime.

“Practicing,” she continued nonchalantly, turning her view back front, her voice jolting Hiccup back to reality. “For the Dragon Races tomorrow. You’re not coming, are you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes into slits. Hiccup shook his head briefly, a touch of guilt embedding itself into his rambling thoughts.

“Thought so. Busy as always, aren’t you?” She had adopted a threatening tone, and Hiccup gulped. “I’m sorry Astrid. I really am.”

“Of course you are.” She sighed. Hiccup sighed with her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She tensed up and bristled, but relaxed shortly after. “I’ll come the next time, okay?” Hiccup said nervously.

“Promise?” Her voice lightened up with hope.

Hiccup smiled, grateful that there were no repercussions. “Promise. If I don’t, then may Thor send down a mighty Skrill and zap my leg off.”

She laughed lightheartedly, a chingle in the air. “Your leg is already missing, though.”

“True. Never thought about that,” he joked.

"Well, he'll just have to cut off your other leg, then."

"Astrid!" he admonished. He spoke with a heavy accent. "Thor, that was my only good leg!"

They laughed together, the corners of his mouth becoming sore for smiling this long. He couldn't help himself.

Stormfly executed a swift landing, and Hiccup dismounted, running towards Toothless. He turned his head while running, having forgotten something important.

“Thank you!” he shouted in the direction of Astrid and her Nadder. Her gradually shrinking figure waved at him. Hiccup smiled at her sight, then turned around to greet Toothless, to check if he was alright, and to apologize.

The past had been warm and fuzzy. The present, however, consisted of him and his dragon lost in a hopeless situation, soaking wet to the bone. Hiccup decided he would venture deeper into the forest, just to make sure no one was there. Then he'd have to search somewhere else.

Toothless sunk down low, towards the shadows on the carpeted forest floor, creeping forward with apprehensive steps. Hiccup squinted his eyes in the nearly opaque darkness that curtained his vision. Now he wished that he’d brought his fire sword, Inferno. However, the sword hadn’t been through testing yet, so if it malfunctioned suddenly, it would not bring desirable consequences.

Hiccup felt wrong in the head. Of course a fire sword wouldn’t help, it was pouring rain! The rain was also affecting their ability to fly, as it was difficult trying to launch into flight against all the violent raindrops striking vehemently on the wings. Uselessness overcame him, and he resisted the urge to scream in confusion and frustration.

There was a boom of thunder that shook the trees. Then a crack of lightning illuminated the ominous night.

Toothless suddenly halted, pupils dilating. A scritching noise echoed ahead. The Night Fury snarled, placing himself in front of his companion protectively. Hiccup pushed his snout gently and reversed the order, coming forth and standing before his friend. He strained to see what was making the noise and…

A figure was walking towards them, the crinkle of leaves under its feet. Hiccup corrected himself instantly, as there were two silhouettes emerging from the unseen.

Astrid. And her dragon trailing not far behind.

“Hiccup?” she asked timidly, her stance suggesting that she wasn't believing her eyes.

“Astrid. Where have you been?!” He didn't mean to launch all his anger built up inside him, he was just worried, relieved, and happy all at once. Relief swelled in his heart, and he ran towards her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“Where were you all this time?” he questioned, holding her close, his voice muffled as he buried his head in the fur on her coat. “I was worried sick!”

“I’m...I’m sorry. I was practicing, and then I somehow got lost…And Stormfly had trouble with coming back. I think she caught a cold," she added.

“It’s okay. You’re alright, and that’s all that I care.” She was shivering with cold, Hiccup realized suddenly. He pulled away.

“Come on. Astrid, you’ll be staying at my house today. You don’t want your relatives fussing over your tardiness.”

Astrid nodded. “I suppose I wouldn't. Thank you for your offer.”

“No problem.” He mounted his dragon and Astrid mounted hers. Together, they leapt off into the night and back to the Haddock household, bolts of lightning painting their backsides with blue fire.

They slept together tonight, on this stormy night, with hands interlocked. Their tired minds lulled asleep by the twinkling stars that appeared in the obsidian sky after the rain had lessened, having already made its mark on the world.
[/spoiler]

On the Hunt

 

Hiccup woke up with the sun filtering through his eyelids, and commotion outside his house.

He yawned, rubbing his tired eyes with his knuckles. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he adjusted his prosthetic and changed into a pair of clean clothes. A hand touched him then, and he held back a shout.

He’d completely forgotten about her.

Astrid mumbled something incomprehensible, then turned the other direction, her mess of blonde hair further tangled. She wore a soft smile while she slept, and Hiccup swore she looked...younger. More vibrant, with vigor and an overall lightness to it.

He shook his head, emerging his mind out of...whatever he was doing. Admiring? He laughed silently to himself, then converted his attention back to his dressing. Carefully, he pried on shirt by shirt, layering the items of clothing without waking her up. She could get quite cantankerous when her sleep was being deprived.

Hiccup remembered one morning, as he was working in the forge, that Astrid had stormed into the workspace in a fury, questioning why he was always working and never had any time to spend with her. He’d replied that he was busy with his new sword. Armed with an easy lighting method and portability, Inferno was his latest pride, having had all the blueprints, designs and welding finished in less than a fortnight. But Astrid wasn't impressed; of course she had woken up with a bad mood, and that attitude spread throughout the whole village, its contagious behavior striking the most innocent of people. One being Hiccup himself, who had to endure an entire argument with his father, without following his urge to backtalk.

He dragged himself off the bed then, and went out the door, closing it with a whisper’s silence behind him. He had many items on his checklist today, and it would be beneficial to him if he finished everything before sunset. Hiccup knew that Stoick had some leadership lessons planned for him, but that wasn't until the late afternoon; he could work until then.

He had barely even made it outside when his keen eyes spotted a crowd coalescing before the Great Hall. Now, today wasn't some sort of holiday. It certainly seemed like it though, all those people crammed together into a tight space. And the noise that they emitted was unbearable. Hiccup decided to take a stand.

He walked over to a nearby Viking and exchanged a friendly greeting. “Do you know what’s going on?”

The Viking shrugged. “I just saw a huge crowd, so I join’d in.”

As he was chatting with the man, his ears caught all sorts of snippets from the gossip and rumours flying around.

“...poor man, he had lost so much…”

“...awful, what could have happened…”

“...I heard his wife had disappeared too…”

At that moment, Stoick charged out of the building, most likely woken up by the cacophony outside. “What’s wrong?” he asked Hiccup impatiently, similarly affected by the ruckus.

“I don’t know,” he answered.

Stoick sighed as he took the matter to his own hands. He squeezed past the Berkians and out in front, asking the villagers the origin of their cause. The commotion dropped a few decibels. Hiccup strained to hear what was happening.

Stoick pushed his way out of the sweaty group, a grave expression writ on his face. Without a word, he returned to his home. A confused Hiccup followed in his father’s steps.

“So…” he wrung his hands, “what happened out there?”

Stoick looked up. “Someone died,” he said gruffly, applying an ice block to his forehead.

“Wait, who?” Hiccup didn't expect this type of news.

“A fellow called Bjarte Brandrson. He was found dead before his very house.”

“Brandrson… hey, wasn’t that the guy who was good at swordfighting?”

“Yes, it was. We need more Vikings with an aptitude for swordfighting.” Stoick shuddered. “I don’t think we need anymore bread-making ones.”

Hiccup would have laughed at Stoick’s failed attempt at a joke, but the joke didn't brighten his mood, and there were more serious business to talk about.

“I guess,” Stoick continued, “we’ll have to cancel our little trip around the village. I have important matters to deal with, like the planning of a Viking funeral. You can go off and do your own thing.” His chair squeaked as his weight left it, and he exited, leaving Hiccup alone.

“Alright,” Hiccup said to the empty room, secretly pleased that he could continue on his work. Yet, while he was still saddened by a fellow Viking’s passing, he couldn't help but be curious of Bjarte’s cause of death. What had occurred to deliver his ghastly fate?

Hiccup wandered to the Great Hall. The crowd had since dispersed, getting along with their busy lives, but a few remained, talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. Hiccup decided to join in. No one noticed, or they didn't really care.

“He showed promise, that lad,” an elder said sadly. “He was only 46. Old he may seem, but he had talent.”

“His wife too, that poor mite. Disappeared without a word. As I say, here one day, gone the next.”

“Did you see those claw marks though? They were as large as a dragons’!”

Dragons? Hiccup thought. Nonsense, he chided himself, dragons wouldn't do this. They don’t even mean harm!

Unless…

Hiccup almost burst out laughing. His often absurd thoughts humored himself greatly. The Red Death had been vanquished five years ago. And besides, how could a mighty beast like her go by unnoticed? It was just too crazy of an idea to even consider.

Perhaps it was another dragon? A wild one, maybe? Bjarte was a frequent swordfighter, wasn't he? So there may be some spare swords left lying around, and Hiccup knew for a fact that Smothering Smokebreaths loved shiny metal objects. It was a possibility, he supposed, though it wasn't the best explanation.

He needed someone who knew about dragons. Someone who could provide reliable knowledge on the topic at hand. Someone who wouldn't mind spending some time with him if dragons were involved.

It was a good thing Hiccup knew someone that just fit the profile.