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Ruff’s not one for empathy. Or sympathy. Why would she? Boring. No excitement there. She doesn’t know why she’d care, and she never stops to think. Gave up thinking a long time ago. Never been happier.
She doesn’t really think about the pranks her, Tuff, and Snotlout play. Why should she? They’re fun.
But they prank tripped Hiccup down a hill, and the boys run off laughing.
Ruff doesn’t know why she doesn’t. She should, and it was funny, but she stops in the grass and looks back.
Apparently, no forethought doesn’t mean no regrets. She knows that, obviously. Her life is full of a long trial of regrets, and she prefers not to think about them.
Hiccup’s picking himself up, as he always does, brushing off without a word that makes her wonder a little why they always choose him. It’s a lot more fun when the person they prank gets mad at them. Except usually that gets messy, so they tend to avoid it, but it’s much, much less fun when…
Uh.
Where was she going with that again?
Can’t remember.
But either way, Ruff turns around while the other two ran off, and she feels sort of…empty? Unhappy? It’s a weird feeling she really doesn’t like.
Hiccup says nothing, just gets up and brushes the dirt off his face, scowling, and stands there.
“Are you just gonna stand there?” she asks.
“Are you just gonna stand there?” he asks tiredly.
The kid doesn’t have anywhere to go, Ruffnut realizes finally. Not that she cares. But he doesn’t have anybody who cares how much they shove him around, and he’s not like her and has an infuriating parasitic twin who will never go away that she gets to share everything with. Not that she’s ever really stopped to think about it – she never stops to think about anything. Thinking is dull.
She doesn’t know what stops her from sassing a stupid comeback and walking off.
“What, you have nowhere to get to?” she asks sassily.
“You know I don’t have anywhere to go,” Hiccup snaps back with a sudden, unexpected and rarely found surge of heat. “You have your tagalong brother, and I don’t have anyone.”
“Yeah, you’re lucky you weren’t stuck with him,” Ruffnut grumbles. “He’s an idiot.”
“Yeah, I think there’s plenty of that to go around,” Hiccup snips after a full moment of pause.
“Alright, you tiny little runt,” Ruff asks, indignant. “Who just went down that hill?”
“Who has nothing better to do other than bullying and pranking people?” Hiccup snaps back, undeterred. He’s mad, and Ruffnut has actually rarely seen the boy mad. Usually, he’ll just cave to whatever and leave, and that’s really no fun at all. But she kind of doesn’t like seeing him mad.
“It’s not pranking, it’s called Loki-ing!” Ruffnut protests. “People just don’t appreciate him enough these days.”
“Harmless pranks are one thing,” he snaps. “But most of what you do could actually hurt someone someday.”
“What?” she snaps. “Can’t handle a fall down a hill?”
“I was talking about the stuff you set on fire.” Hiccup walks away, leaving Ruff standing there scowling. She tries to pretend his words didn’t affect her.
***
She has no idea how that conversation led to her sitting atop a ledge overlooking the ocean after a particularly nasty fight with her brother, leaving her cranky and decidedly not on speaking terms with anyone, but somehow Hiccup ended up here at either a good time, or the absolute worst one.
“Tuff is driving me crazy,” she says on answer to his questioning look and sits down sulkily.
“I’m sorry,” Hiccup says, automatic, but annoyingly sympathetic. She really wishes he weren’t being sympathetic. What’s she supposed to do with that? Ugh. Most people laugh at her problems and tell her she earned them. What does she say when someone’s nice about them?
“At least you don’t have an annoying, infuriating, maddening, stupid little brother!” Ruff yells irately, throwing a handful of rock and snow into the ocean. It bounces down the rocky cliffside into the ocean, and she huffs in wordless misery.
“I wish I did,” Hiccup says, mind-blowingly-. He’s an idiot. “I never had a sibling. I’ve been alone since birth. At least you have Tuff.”
“At least you have friends,” Ruff snaps, and realizes, right then and there, that he doesn’t.
“I don’t,” Hiccup interrupts. “I’m not friends with anybody.”
“Well, at least your parents didn’t kick you outta the house,” she mutters instead.
“That’s true,” he offers weakly. “I thought you were friends with Snotlout?”
“He’s an idiot, too! Ugh. Boys.” Ruff huffs again.
“You know you’re talking to one, right?” Hiccup asks, pointing at himself.
“Ugh! Yes! Whatever.” She wraps her arms around her knees and sulkily glares into the washing waves. She feels bad for yelling at Tuff, worse for hitting him, and worst for stomping out. Most parents apparently break up sibling fights. Ruffnut can’t imagine that anymore. “Living on my own is fun except when Tuff and I start fighting and then I don’t wanna talk to anyone!”
“And then everything’s quiet, and you just feel alone,” Hiccup finishes. “That’s why you do all the chaos.”
“You don’t know me!” she snaps, even if it’s the truth.
“It is for me,” he mutters. “Except I don’t make everything a mess just because I want to. I do it because I’m just… clumsy.”
“And stupid, just like Tuff,” she finishes. “Yep, I know.” Not really. She doesn’t.
“Yeah, except that’s too annoying for everybody,” Hiccup mutters, knees pulled up to his own chest in a miserable little ball.
“Nobody likes Tuff and I, either. That’s why we got our own house when Mom married our stepdad. He’s annoying. He doesn’t appreciate the Thorston family Nut Tree. And he thinks I need to be ‘more refined’ if I’m ever gonna get married someday.” Ruffnut huffs disgustedly. “Well, guess what? I’m spending my life with none other than Tuffnut Thorston. I don’t need another stupid jerk telling me what to do.”
“Yeah,” Hiccup offers weakly. “I know the feeling. Maybe you need to go back to Tuff and apologize or truce or whatever it is you two do.”
“Yeah. Sure.” She gets up and starts walking away, then pauses. He’s just sitting there, alone against the moonlight. “What about you?”
“Nothing. I’m sure Dad’s not back home yet.”
Right. Because he has nobody to go back to other than the Chief of Berk, who is dull, boring, and annoying. No wonder he’s so, well, Hiccup.
“You can come back with me,” she offers. “I’m sure he won’t notice if you skip a night.”
Hiccup pushes himself up. “You know, you’re probably right. But I should head back, just… just in case.”
“What, he’ll be mad at you?”
“He’s Stoick the Vast. He’s always ‘mad’.”
Oouch. “Seeya,” Ruff yells over her shoulder anyway and takes off back for home, a little more ready to see her stupid brother again. Yeah, Hiccup’s right. At least she’s got him.