Chapter Text
Hiccup was the first to spot it.
Broken trees laid out in a perfect line leading out into the dark forest with just a hint of blood marring the path, if one knew where to look.
He followed down the broken path until he finally stepped out into a clearing that was empty except for a bundled up dark mass huddled in the far edge of the meadow. Moonlight licked across the dragon’s scales as movement rolled through its body and Hiccup flinched back as he realized the beast was still alive.
Carefully, he stepped forward to get a better look at the dragon.
It was bleeding.
Badly.
Blood smeared in a trail leading up to where the dragon must have skidded to a stop, but that was nothing compared to the small puddle of blood pooling around the poor thing and soaking into the grass.
Suddenly Hiccup felt sick.
Hiccup’s eyes flicked over to the creature’s face and he sucked in a sharp breath as they locked with the dragon’s.
Its glare was human in a way Hiccup hadn’t been prepared for. Defiant and vicious, but so clearly terrified. The way its eyes trembled as they took in his form, the way it flinched as he took a step forward- no idea what he was doing but finding himself magnetically drawn to the creature.
Branches snaped to his left and both of their heads swiveled in sync to watch as one of the vikings from Hiccup’s village came tumbling out of the brush.
“Is that the beast?” The man laughed in disbelief, “Over here!” he called out to the rest of the search party, “The lad’s actually done it!”
Shouts filled the forest, passing the message along and soon enough the entire clearing was teeming with battle giddy vikings.
A stern shout from behind quieted the crowd, and it parted like water receding before a hurricane to reveal his Father approaching him and the dragon he had taken down with a calm air.
He clapped a hand on Hiccup’s shoulder as he slid up beside him, creating a solid wall next to Hiccup that did nothing to offer him comfort. “Well done, son.”
His father pressed an axe into Hiccup’s hands and he took it numbly, not even fully registering its weight in his hand even as his shoulders slumped from the effort to hold the thing up. He clapped Hiccup on the back, sending him stumbling forward with a word of encouragement he couldn’t understand over the rush of blood in his ears and the fog that had overtaken him. Everything zeroed in on the creature’s face as it held his gaze before sighing long and heavy as it closed its eyes and lowered its head in resignation.
“W-wait.” The words were out of his mouth before he even registered that he said them but once he did it was a rush to excuse himself, “This might be our only chance to observe a night fury.” He said, turning to his dad imploringly, “Since it’s already bound, wouldn’t it be better to take it back to the arena- so we can study it?”
“After all,” Hiccup said, turning back to look at the dragon and he was caught by the shock in its eyes, the complete stillness of its form- as if the beast was holding its breath.
“W-we can always kill it later.”
The effect was instantaneous. The dragon that was so quiet was suddenly transformed into a growling, writhing mass. But it didn’t bite- couldn’t, with how the rope was tangled around its face like a muzzle and Stoick looked at the beast for a long, contemplative moment before turning to the man beside him. “What do you think, Gobber? Do you think we could get him back home and secured without losing any more limbs?”
“Well, you know, I did always like a good challenge.”
--
They belted the dragon down as well as they could for the meantime, but they would need to craft a more permanent muzzle if they wanted to do more than simply watch the dragon suffer a slow and depressing death wrapped in chains.
Hiccup found himself with the dubious pleasure of taking the beast’s measurements. He carefully placed his hands on its forehead- two hand widths between the eyes, ten around the whole circumference. The space between the front of its nose and the fins on the back of its head were about equal to the length of his forearm plus one hand, the middle two fins were about two fingers thick, the back one’s were closer to three. The fins on the side were two fingers thick again.
With every touch Hiccup was achingly gentle- not out of fear for himself, but rather in difference to the dragon, who shied away from each touch no matter how careful Hiccup was or what lengths he went to telegraph his movements.
It would take days for them to complete the muzzle, even if Hiccup worked late into the night, but the dragon would remain strapped down in its little cage in the arena until it was finished.
Unable to move an inch, even to lick its still bleeding wounds.
It was far too late and Hiccup was already exhausted, but he waited for his father to go to bed, waited for the town to go silent, and then he made his move.
Creeping through the village, he carried only the sutures he had stolen from the emergency supply in Gobber’s workshop and the strongest bottle of spirits he could find.
The arena itself was completely deserted and it was simple enough to slip through its gates unnoticed.
Hiccup peeked through the small windows of the cages, looking for the night fury. He almost passed right by the right one when its cage appeared empty- the pitch black scales blending in perfectly with the darkness surrounding the cage.
Hiccup was just about to turn away when a large, pale green eye suddenly blinked into existence, focusing in on him with a sharp glare and a low growl that had Hiccup stumbling away from the door only to trip over his own feet and end up knocked to the ground.
He picked himself up, brushed himself off and took a deep breath. “It’s ok Hiccup. It can’t hurt you.” Despite his words, his hand shook as he reached for the latch that kept the door closed and he hesitated before finally releasing it. The door swung open easily enough and he was once more face to face with the beast he had taken down.
It was hard to see much in the dark, but there was enough moonlight shining through now to reveal the crusted blood smeared across the poor thing’s face and flaking off of its hide.
Hiccup winced and looked down at his pitiful supplies. “Sorry. I should have brought some water to clean you up with.” He approached the dragon, expecting another growl, but the beast just looked at him curious and wary.
Hiccup sighed and poured a little of the spirit into a cloth he had tucked away in his pocket. “Well, if you didn’t hate me before, I feel like this’ll really tip it over the edge.” He glanced up at the night fury’s eyes, hoping to somehow convey his meaning- even if he knew the creature couldn’t understand him, “I’ll try to be gentle though, ok? I promise it’ll help in the long run.”
Hiccup walked around the length of the dragon, looking for the worst of the scrapes to start with. He found a particularly nasty gash on the dragon’s left side, cutting deep into its underbelly. Hiccup took a breath to fortify himself.
“I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.”
He took the alcohol soaked rag and began to clean the wound. The night fury started to thrash against its bounds the second wet cloth touched skin, but was surprisingly quiet- only making the slightest whimper of a noise. He knew from experience the creature was capable of getting incredibly, dangerously loud even with the straps around its mouth, but it seemed unerringly silent, given the circumstances.
Once the wound was clean enough, Hiccup poured some more of the spirit over his needle and the suture he had threaded through it and then began work stitching the wound closed.
Hiccup was a particularly good stitcher with all the practice he had had working for Gobber, but even still, it was hard to do clean work when the thing one was stitching was actively wiggling.
Surprisingly, the dragon seemed to make an effort to keep the area Hiccup was working on as still as it could, though its tail was lashing out rather violently.
Hiccup had had much worse patients in the old and grizzled warriors that would flood into the armory after a harsh night where there were so many wounded Gothi couldn’t work fast enough to fix them all up in time and they had to come looking to the leather workers for aid where she could not.
He made quick work of the creature’s wounds, stitching up what he could, cleaning around what he couldn’t. Hiccup didn’t want to disturb any scabs that had formed on the wounds that were too small to stitch- so as long as they weren’t caked with dirt, he did his best to simply wash away around them to help reduce the risk of infection.
He only had alcohol to moisten his cloth, and he knew it couldn’t have been pleasant for the creature’s nose, but Hiccup couldn’t stand to let its face remain so blood stained.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He said softly as he clutched the dragon’s face with one hand and brought the blood soaked cloth up to its cheek with the other. “I’m so stupid. I’m sorry.” He bit his lip to stop it from trembling, the pain barely holding back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.
The dragon was looking at him. The night fury was looking at him with big, green eyes that seemed to search his face before finally, they closed and its head ducked down and Hiccup couldn’t stop himself from resting his forehead against the dragon’s and letting out a deep, shuttering sob.
--
Hiccup woke to the sun on his face and cold wood under his cheek.
He jolted awake to the realization that he didn’t make it home last night.
Hiccup rushed to his feet, ready to make a mad dash across town to try and get back to bed before anyone could notice his absence when he made another chilling discovery.
The night fury was gone.
Ice in his heart, he took in the scene before him.
Restraints slack, their prisoner long gone.
The leather straps still held a faint warmth that told Hiccup it couldn’t have been too long since the dragon had escaped and he jumped to his feet, not even bothering to close the door behind him as he rushed to try to get one last glimpse of the night fury before it was gone for good.
He couldn’t see anything from the arena, but that was no big surprise. Its concave nature inherently made it difficult to see much of the skies. His best bet would be the roof of his house- one of the few places he’d be able to really see the horizon without anyone questioning his presence.
Oh gods, if anyone found him they were sure to assume he had been the one who released the dragon.
Fear curdled deep in his gut but did nothing to slow his pace as he ran to his house, something pulling him forward recklessly. Surely the dragon would be nothing more than a speck on the horizon before he could arrive, but still, he continued.
Hiccup skidded around a sharp corner, stumbling over his own feet in his haste as his house finally came into view but stopped short at what he saw there.
A complete stranger darted in and out of sight behind his house, dressed in black.
Hiccup was the chief’s son. Whether he liked it or not, he knew every face that lived in their village. There shouldn’t have been a single stranger on the whole island.
Was this the man that had released the night furry?
The idea was chilling. Hiccup had been asleep. Totally vulnerable. And this man had snuck in and stolen a dragon right out from under him.
And why? What did he have to gain?