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When Hiccup tells him, Fishlegs doesn't cry.
He doesn't, even though he's cried for things less painful and more public. He doesn't, even though he's hurting.
He doesn't, even though he wants to, because Hiccup is staring at him with a look like he's about to collapse, and Fishlegs doesn't want to push him down under the weight of his feelings. You see, Fishlegs still loves Hiccup like he did before he knew it was wrong. Before he knew Hiccup loved him back.
He doesn't know that now.
"I'm sorry," Hiccup says. "I -- Dad only told me today. He said I" and Hiccup looks down, laughs -- half a laugh, a snort and a smile -- and says "He said I should ask you for proposal advice."
Fishlegs laughs, for real. "Because I know how women work?"
"I don't know. You know what my dad's like, he thinks that just because you like flowers you're half a girl."
"Half a girl isn't enough to marry a boy."
"No," Hiccup says, serious again. Fishlegs likes him serious. He can't wait until Hiccup is Chief, and he'll have to be serious all the time, and Fishlegs can kiss him and make him stop --
Right. There's no chance of that. It will be Astrid by his side, smiling and kissing him while he gets the reports of whatever Mulch and Bucket have done recently, and Fishlegs will be outside and alone.
"I promise you, Fishlegs, I'm not choosing this," Hiccup says, a tremor dancing through his words. "Dad just told me."
"And you didn't fight him?" The words are as nonjudgemental as Fishlegs can make them. Hiccup flinches.
"Well, he's the chief. He's Stoick the Vast. I wasn't exactly going to go up to him and say 'Hey, most powerful man on Berk, what if I was in love with my male best friend and also screw your arranged marriage', was I?" His tone is cruel, mocking and sarcastic in a way it hasn't been since Fishlegs would choose Snotlout over Hiccup.
"You did it for Toothless," Fishlegs says, and oh, the gloves are off, even though he's talking as quietly as he can remember ever talking in his life. "So many times you said Toothless was worth it."
"That's not even remotely comparable --"
"WHY NOT?" Fishlegs cries, and Hiccup actually jumps. He feels the urge to apologise. He doesn't. "Why is it different? Why is 'I want to continue my relationship with this dragon' different to 'I want to keep loving Fishlegs'? Why?"
Hiccup is quiet for a moment, keeping eye contact with Fishlegs, and his lips move like they do when he is thinking through a trade deal or some new invention. When he finally does speak, it is as if he has not in forever. The words feel like the first from his mouth in years.
"Do you know who Leif Thorston is?"
"Yes," Fishlegs says, confused. Everyone knows the story of the traitor Leif Thorston, shame of the Thorston family. He left Berk in the middle of the night to join the Outcasts, taking one of the finest warships on the island with him, and to this day nobody has ever understood why.
"Do you know why he left?"
"No. Nobody does."
Hiccup's lips twist.
"Do you know who Bjorn the Mighty is?"
"No," Fishlegs says, his brow furrowing.
"He's an Outcast. And do you know why both of those men are Outcasts?"
Fishlegs shakes his head, the corners of his lips falling. He can feel the tears in his eyes, and he knows they would come out in his voice if he spoke.
"They were in love." Hiccup makes certain to enunciate every syllable. It still doesn't fully sink in for a few seconds. "Those men loved each other, and my father's father told them that for that high crime they needed to leave the island and never come back. He thought a warship was an acceptable price to pay for never seeing them again."
"I didn't know," Fishlegs whispers, and now the tears come.
"I know you didn't," Hiccup says, and he reaches up to put a hand on Fishlegs's shoulder. "But... if I go up to my father and I say 'screw everything, I love him', we have to be prepared to screw everything on Berk. And that came out really dirty in a way I didn't intend, but... you understand me, right?"
"Yes," Fishlegs whispers, sitting down on the floor and taking Hiccup with him. "I didn't realise how much you'd be losing. You can't risk exile for me, that's stupid --"
Hiccup's arms are around him in a moment. "No, Fishlegs. To be honest, it would probably be the most sane thing I've done in a while. But not with no preparation for the worst, and I -- needed to talk to you first, because you might not want to give up everything on Berk for me. I needed to make sure you had the option."
Every word in the last sentence -- all nine -- is I love you, is I want you to feel safe, is everything Fishlegs wants from everyone who says the words in themselves, undisguised. Hiccup doesn't always get it right, but this time... gods, he must have thought this through.
Fishlegs is glad and angry at Hiccup at the same time, because now he has to choose to blow everything up instead of just letting it happen. But it's probably the most considerate thing Hiccup's ever done; analytical, careful. He's got a plotter's mind, a mechanist, and the boldness to carry his plans through.
He'd make a great Chief.
"We can't, though," Fishlegs says, lips quivering. "We can't."
Hiccup's brow furrows. "Why? Because I would, you know I would."
The quiet reaffirmation stills Fishlegs. Two more understudy I love yous.
"Do... do you not want to? I understand, and I would never ask that of you --"
Fishlegs's heart is breaking, but he manages to force the words together. "You're going to be Chief. You're going to be the greatest chief this island has ever seen. I know that, I've watched you work."
Hiccup's mouth opens slightly, and then he closes it again.
"But you can't be Chief in exile. And... you can't be Chief in love with me."
Hiccup lets that sink in, and Fishlegs can practically see his thoughts swirling across his face, painting him in dilute fury.
"When I'm Chief," Hiccup says, fiercely, "I swear to you you will be able to love who you want. No fear of exile."
Fishlegs clasps Hiccup's hand in his when he says "No, I won't."
Hiccup looks away, down to their hands, and says "Don't be so sure."
"Do you have another you locked in a cupboard somewhere?"
"No." There are tears on Hiccup's cheeks too. "There's no backup Hiccup."
"Then I'm sure."
They sit like that for a minute or two. Maybe it's an hour. Fishlegs wishes it were an hour.
"It would solve a lot of problems if you did have a backup," Fishlegs says. "You could send him off to the wedding instead."
Hiccup starts at his side. "The wedding. Right. Because I'm getting married. I'm going to be engaged. To a girl who hated my guts not two years ago."
"Astrid didn't hate you."
Hiccup raises both his eyebrows in that delightfully sardonic way Fishlegs has tried again and again in front of a mirror Trader Johan brought but can never get right, and says "Yeah. The leaving-me-to-die-every-time-we-were-in-the-arena was just a cute friendship thing. Not that I know much about friendship."
"You'll have to learn. It's what we're going to have for the foreseeable future." Fishlegs half-smiles.
"Too soon!" Hiccup jokingly punches him. "Too soon, bud."
A moment of silence.
"She really doesn't hate you."
"She's going to hate me when I come up to her with a question with only one answer." Hiccup sighs. "God. Why does everything good get ruined by marriage?"
"This feels like a conversation for after you're married and hate each other and we're Best Buds drinking mead and complaining about our wives."
"You're right. Good to know I can always count on you, my Best Bud. Tied with Toothless, but he's not as good a conversationalist."
Another silence.
"She's not going to hate you."
"She probably has someone she loves too. I'm destroying that as well."
"It'll be worth it, when you're Chief."
"But what happens until then?"
I kill myself just looking at you with her. I wonder every day if you're falling in love with her. You have children, and all I can think of is how I don't want to be Uncle Fishlegs, I want to be Dad.
I tear myself apart loving you.
"You fake it. And then you fake it more. And then you'll be chief, and Berk will prosper, and it will be beautiful and the Outcasts and the Berserkers won't stand a chance."
And neither will I.
Someone yells: from the bass tone, it's probably Stoick. "HICCUP!"
Hiccup stands. "Sorry. I... have to go propose to someone I don't love." He smears the tears with the back of his hand.
"You're crying," Fishlegs says.
"I'll say it's tears of joy."
And, with the quiet thud of the doors to the Great Hall, Fishlegs is alone.