Chapter Text
This is Berk. So far off the map, it might as well not exist. It’s twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death. It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery. Both literally, and the… you know, metaphorically.
My village? In a word, sturdy.
It’s been here for seven generations, but every single building is new. The air is crisp, the water is clean, and the views are… nothing to complain about. My siblings and I climb to the top of the cliff and watch it sink sometimes, golden-orange flames dancing on the water. It’s beautiful. Valimara thinks she could watch it forever. And so do I.
The only downsides are the pests. You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have dragons.
Most people would leave. Not us. We’re Vikings. We have… stubbornness issues. We don’t run from fights. We start them.
And speaking of dragons, I have a dragon. We know, it’s weird. Some of them, I guess, are just born different. He’s been in my life for as long as I can remember, and I love him as much as my sister. He’s sort of the closest I’ve had to a brother in my life, only a lot bigger, scaley-er, and plasma-spitting, which really isn’t so bad. Also, he has wings, but he can’t fly.
And our sister, Valimara is perfect. She’s small, but she’s fast and strong, and every bit the spitfire daughter my dad always wanted. I have no doubt she’s going to be the Chief of Berk someday. Maybe she’s a little naughty, but she has everything that matters.
Me, though, I don’t have any of that. I’m small, I’m weak, and I can’t hold an axe. It’s okay, though. Toothless has my back. We can run into any sort of danger together. And we get danger a lot – wild boars, dragons, unhappy Vikings on the streets, Dagur the Deranged…
In short, Berk is no place for the faint of heart.
Or, I guess, people who just want to get some sleep.
“Aauuuuggghh! Come on!” Valimara’s shriek echoes through the loft, reverberating off the wooden plans. Hiccup’s eyes fly open at the sound, the distant alarm horns shrieking in the distance a familiar warning of attack. But still, Val wakes him faster than any alarm system ever could. How do you go from sleep to scream? “What is this, three times now? Is it too much to ask for a Viking to get some sleep?”
Excuse my sister. She’s, you know, barely thirteen.
So much for sleep. Hiccup groans softly, twisting over in the comfortable warmth of his bed beneath the heavy quilts, barely enough to keep in warmth against the icy winter air. He’d ask for another, but Vikings are stubborn. Too many blankets means you’re weak, and Hiccup shies away from anything that shows him weaker than he already is. That’s why he and Val and Tooth take to curling up in the coldest of winter months.
It’s more comfortable. But they’re not there yet.
The alarm horn rings out again, and then he hears fire and shouting, swords clanging in the streets. Dragon attack. Outside, shouting and flashes of fire, whiffs of smoke drift through the window, a constant reminder that for all the Vikings here, Berk is an all-out, full-time battle ground.
Toothless yawns, lifting his head from his paws in the far corner, brilliant green eyes blinking and wide. Hiccup flips his quilts off, peeling away the edge of his blankets and immediately missing their burrowing warmth. Cold winter air assaults him with a violent shiver – the nights are always the worst.
“Auugh, these stupid things!” Valimara throws her arms over her head with an angry growling moan. “I’m about to kill them all just for this!”
Toothless jolts, eyes flickering across Hiccup’s now standing form to direct at his still lying down sister, cooing in confused question.
“What? No, not you!” She’s scrambling from her bed and ramming her feet into her fur-covered boots and fumbling with their on-straps. They’d go on faster if she had them fit to his size, instead of borrowing all Hiccup’s still-unusable stuff when they’re done. Hiccup thinks it’s silly – living battleground. You can’t struggle to get your clothes on if you take them off – but their mom assures him it’s actually very sweet.
So.
“Nooo, Tooth, you’re not a dragon,” his sister is desperately quick to reassure him, pattering across the floor to cup her hand on Toothless’s face. “You’re not like the others. You’re special. You are my giant, special, oversized, bro.”
Toothless purrs and snickers, dragging his massive tongue across her hand and face. Valimara shrieks with amusement as slobber coats her clothes.
It’s the Haddock’s family running joke, no doubt, but it’s also the truth. Toothless was born different, or maybe being raised by humans tamed the wild cruelty off, though Hiccup can’t look at Toothless and say he has ever in his life had what all dragons do.
He’s good, though and through.
Toothless isn’t a monster. He might be big, and the people of Berk might be terrified of him, but he only eats fish – and bread and other things he shouldn’t – but he would never hurt anyone.
Hiccup does not really buy into the dragons-aren’t-so-bad questions his mom keeps putting. That’s just. Not possible. Right? Vikings wouldn’t hunt them if they weren’t evil. And dragons wouldn’t kill and strip Berk of its food if they were anything but wild, vicious, heartless creatures.
“I gotta get to the shop,” Valimara says, swiveling around, snapping back into warrior mode, even if she’s dripping in Night Fury slobber, “Remember that fancy little –”
“The bola launcher,” Hiccup corrects before she spawns off anything embarrassing. She’ll do that – spew out whatever comes to her head, and it’s just as frequently something truly embarrassing. “I know. And Gobber’ll need my help at the forge. Come on.”
Running onto the streets mid-dragon attack is dangerous, something they’ve been repeatedly warned against, but this is something they have to do. Hiccup has to be useful wherever he finds the shot at – and his work is the forge. Valimara, for her part, is a fighter.
She hasn’t made it to being respected yet, is too young to train with the others or be part of the Fire Brigade, but she has it in her. And she’ll prove it. Maybe she’s still a kid, still chatty, still reckless, and maybe a little too wild and defiant, but she is a Viking. Through and through.
Hiccup loves her exactly how she is, but the rest of Berk won’t take it this way. Hiccup is the clumsy, hated one, and all her life, Val has insisted on being dwarfed by him instead of showing her own worth. This is something she needs. He can see that.
Hiccup doesn’t care for fame or glory. He doesn’t want the thrill of the kill – because he doesn’t want to kill at all. Dragons are awful, yeah, no question, but they’re also Toothless’s kind. He doesn’t want to hurt them.
And he has Toothless. He doesn’t need anything else.
Valimara is their sister, but she doesn’t resonate in them like the missing second half Hiccup always aches for whenever Toothless isn’t at his side.
He doesn’t want Valimara to be a killer, but she deserves the fame. He’s tired of having people walk over her, push her around because when they see her, all they see is Hiccup’s shadow when that’s not who she is.
Toothless’s ears flatten against his head and the Night Fury grumbles unhappily, always grumpy about the imminent danger part of life.
“Come on, bud,” Hiccup tires in his best soothingly scolding tone. “It’s gonna be fine.”
He makes for the stairs when a small hand grabs his shoulder. “You should take the shot, Hiccy,” Val tells him firmly, face silhouetted against the flare of flames outside.
“No. I’m not a killer, Val. I’m not a warrior. You have that in you. I don’t want to take that from you.”
Val huffs. “Fine.”
Hiccup sprints for the stairs. Toothless grunts and takes them in a single jump. Val is swinging herself after. Stoick must’ve already left, and Hiccup has the sneaking suspicion the house is empty, though he cannot for the life of him say where his mom went. She usually stays inside, unless it’s to try breaking up some of the fighting.
Hiccup pries the door open and gasps at the flare of fire, ducking back aside as a startled dragon’s blast hits the door full force. Flames lick through the seams, but the wood catches it, even if the said would is probably in flames. He feels the heat on his back and shields his face, heart hammering heavily.
That was a close one.
Toothless hisses, worried and angry, jumping forwards.
The fire blast is gone, and Hiccup flings the door open. Fresh air, thick with smoke and the scent of dragons assaults them on the first step outside. Hiccup dodges another falling spark, Toothless spreading a wing over him to shield it.
He pulls back, a faint whistling building and a plasma blast shoots upwards to break through the dragon lines. Toothless has spot-on aim, but he has never, will never intentionally hit one of his own. That’s what taught Hiccup the same. If Toothless doesn’t, he won’t do it, either.
Val… kind of takes after Dad in that way. Viking, through and through, so Hiccup will help her every step of the way. She’s someone who might, finally, find the Haddock family a rank among the Vikings again where accepting Toothless and Hiccup himself have effectively killed it.
“What are you doing out here?” someone yells irritably, and predictably, the shouts start coming – get ack inside, you’re in the way, and the rest.
“Play dead,” someone advises.
Valimara breaks into a wild cackling laugh that’s almost a terrifying imitation of Dagur’s. “Nope! I’m having wayyy to much fun out here, sor-ry.”
Hiccup dodges another fire blast, hooking an arm over his sister’s shoulders to yank her aside, and then Toothless tackles them both, firing upwards again with an irritated growl. And then they’re up again, sprinting down another street – the blacksmith shop is right up ahead. Gobber needs their help. Hiccup’s, anyway.
And then, right on cue, someone grabs Hiccup by the back of his vest and hauls him backwards. A startled yelp slips free, but it’s just Stoick. It’s just his dad. Which, uh, isn’t exactly great. “Hiccup! What are you doing out here?” Toothless grunts, spinning around, one wing instinctively over their sister. “What are all of you doing out here? Get back inside!”
And then he throws Hiccup aside, turning back to the chaos. Hiccup stumbles, off balance until his sister grabs his shoulder to steady him. He swallows the hurt of it, at being shoved aside so thoughtlessly, but he’s used to it. It’s no real big deal. Doesn’t mean it ever stops hurting. Yeah, ‘cuz he’s just something to push around, no question.
Stoick grabs a nearby wooden cart and flings it at a nearby dragon, taking the thing out of the air. Stoick the Vast, the best warrior on Berk, unphased by anything. The wool on his cape catches fire, but he doesn’t even blink before brushing the embers off. His dad, fearless, who’s first dragon kill was when he was a kid. Hiccup honestly believes it. How couldn’t he? It’s Stoick.
Unlike Hiccup, who cowers at the slightest shred of anything. He’s an embarrassment, and he’s doing his best to make sure his sister isn’t.
Val hums under her breath. “Come on!” She grabs Hiccup by the wrist, and they take off again.
The blacksmith door is just up ahead, and Hiccup skids inside. Val circles him, tripping into the doorway to catch herself, panting heavily. Yeah. Got a bit of the warrior-ness to work on.
Hiccup grabs his apron off a stool, dumps his vest off, and pulls the thing on.
“Nice of you to join the party,” Gobber sasses over his shoulder, hammering out a piece of molten metal. “I thought you’d been carried off.”
Toothless snickers. “Nope! Not with Tooth.” Val pats his head.
“Me?” Hiccup asks, shuffling some of the shop weapons. “Come on, I’m waaaay too muscular for their taste. They wouldn’t know what to do with all… this.”
“Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?” Gobber sasses.
Val throws her hands up in a shrug, stretching her arms. “We’re great! Just pretend we’re not even here, I’ll be in and out before ya’ve seen a thing, an –”
“Nah, not so fast,” Gobber scolds, dragging her back inside before she can reach the door. “I’m keeping an eye on you.”
“We’re not even supposed to be out here,” Hiccup calls over his shoulder, shuffling some of the less-sharp weapons forwards to get resharpened and handed out to the people who keep passing the shop to grab more.
Always hard to keep up. He has no idea how Gobber did it before Hiccup started coming here regularly to help.
Gobber laughs. “Since when did that ever stop you?”
Toothless is back out. Hiccup can hear the whistle-bang of his plasma blasts, and winces. They help cover a lot, but it also draws dragon fire, and Toothless can’t fly. His tail was damaged when he was a baby, and Hiccup can’t imagine a world where he could. But it kept Toothless with them, neve if it’s also his biggest weakness.
Having him out there alone is terrifying.
Mostly, what terrifies him is the knowledge that someday, someone is going to hurt him. They can say it’s an accident. Say what they may, but Berk hates Toothless. Even for all he’s done for them, every way he’s proved himself trustworthy. It’s not impossible to hurt a Night Fury, for as hard as it may be, and Hiccup would worry anyway. That’s what family does.
“Fire Brigade!” someone outside is yelling, and Hiccup pauses his work to look to the window. Valimara oohs and pops right up beside him, hands bracing on the windowsill as she leans forwards. Hiccup can’t see the kids much from out here, but Astrid is yelling “let’s go, out of the way!” from somewhere, and he sees the water system turning on, the blond swinging herself across them to move the beam.
That’s a job Val would love.
The other teens are throwing water on smaller fighters, Fishlegs handing more up to the top of Astrid’s watering system.
Their job is so much cooler than being stuck in a blacksmith shop – out there in the action and chaos, guaranteed to be the next generation of legendary warriors. Though being out there in the rush of fire isn’t really Hiccup’s forte. He’s no fighter, and Hiccup’s actually okay with that.
“Get out of the way, dragon!” someone yells at Toothless, irritated.
The Night Furry hisses, and then Toothless dives back through the smith’s window, grumbling and whimpering. Hiccup’s heart races with hurt and fury at once – Berk will never accept them. They don’t belong here. They’re just… pretending. And how long can they pretend?
He wraps his arms around the dragon’s neck in a tight hug. Not that it changes anything.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Snotlout’s snippy voice asks from outside the window, and Hiccup is instantly, privately glad he’s not looking.
The Fire Brigade has hurt Toothless a lot, too. Fishlegs spent a long while lingering over him from a distance, intrigued, but always afraid his ‘primeval instincts’ would reawaken, and he’d lash out. Fishlegs was scared of him, and that drifted into drifting away as he got older and gave right into the peer pressure of the rest of them.
The twins poke at Toothless, laugh at his irritation as much as Hiccup’s, because they know he’ll never react, or maybe they want him to because they like playing with fire – er, plasma. Hiccup has no idea.
Snotlout has made it his life’s mission to make Hiccup’s life as miserable as possible, largely form his dad’s prompting, but it’s his work, nonetheless.
And, Astrid. The first fight Hiccup’s ever started was when with her. He was eight, and kind of – might have – okay, he did yank a handful of one of her braids, and she flipped. In his defense, she told Toothless to his face they should put him up for the next dragon slaughter. Does he regret that? Maybe. Okay, no. No, he really doesn’t.
Valimara’s sworn Astrid as her mortal enemy ever since. Hiccup thinks that’s slight overkill. He’s kind of against the whole mortal enemy thing. Though he does get the rivalry. Her and Astrid constantly trying to one-up each other is going to blow up someday. It’s a fight one-on-one for Berk’s love, for Stoick’s approval, for succession of the Chief’s reign.
“Shouldn’t you, Grouchlout?” Valimara sasses right back at her cousin, leaning forwards, elbows on the window. “Heh. They’ll see when I get up there – ah! Gobber!”
Hiccup looks up to see the man dragging his sister back with his hook arm by the back of her tunic. “Back inside for you,” Gobber orders, unimpressed.
“Oh, come on!” she whines. “Let me out there, pleeeeease?” She’s doing her puppy-eye face. Toothless pulls it better, but they are completely irresistible to Hiccup – there are exactly two people that he has an endless soft spot for, and they would be his siblings. Not so much to everybody else. “I gotta make my glory mark, okay? It’s gonna be fun.”
“Your glory marks usually involve starting fires, so, no,” Gobber replies firmly. “Get back to work.”
“Come on, Gobber, I’m gonna kill a dragon, and our lives will get infinitely better. Tell him, Hiccy?” She turns her puppy eyes on to Hiccup, who groans, sagging.
“Gobber, please?” he offers, “Toothless will watch her. We really need this. Just give her two minutes?”
“She can’t wield a hammer, or swing an axe,” Gobber throws back, lifting a bola from the table. “She can’t even throw one of these! And neither can you, Hiccup.”
He stands limply, the hurt frustration sinking in. “Yeah, yeah, that’s a way to put it.”
“Uh, duh,” Valimara grumbles, “That’s why I have a sword, muttonhead, and knives. I’m great with knives. Do you have any idea how awesome those are? Sooo underrated. And you know who taught me.”
“Excuse that I don’t have very much faith in the teachings of Dagur the Deranged,” Gobber says in the dryest note.
“Oh, come on, stop being mean,” she sulks, slouching back.
Toothless grunts softly, just watching. Hiccup sighs, leaning into his warmth. “I know, bud,” he murmurs, “This isn’t gonna go well.” He shifts forwards from his slouch spot. “That’s why we made this,” he offers, circling to the bola launcher. “It’ll throw them for us.” He tries to unfold it, and the machine snaps out, randomly firing through the window.
Someone drops with a shriek.
Hiccup winces. Toothless jumps, turning his head away, eyes half-closed in a definitely identical flinch.
Oops.
Valimara, predictably, laughs. “See? That’s what we’re talkin’ about! Chaos to make Loki proud!”
“That’s why I’m talking about!” Gobber snaps, fed up.
“I – it’s just a minor calibration issue,” Hiccup squeaks, backing away.
“If you ever want to get out there and start fighting dragons, you’ve got to stop all of… all of this,” the man snaps flatly, motioning in their directions.
Val’s hands go to her hips and she just pouts.
“You just gestured to all of us,” Hiccup grumbles.
Gobber’s face is flat, completely devoid of humor. “Yeah. Stop being all of you.” He’s actually serious, and that hurts. He’s spent his entire life being told things like this. It never stops hurting. And he’s already accepted the truth – he’s never making a name for himself. It’s been true ever since he got Toothless.
He won’t let his sister get tied down with that promise. She doesn’t have a dragon.
“It’s a good thing I don’t need to fight dragons, then,” Hiccup offers with a shrug. “I have Toothless, after all.” He vaguely gestures in the Night Fury’s direction, and Toothless purrs softly. “I don’t need anything else.”
“I resent that,” Val grumbles, turning away, “I can fight dragons just as I am, thank you very much. You’ll see.”
Hiccup doesn’t doubt that. Not even for a second. She’s every bit the fighter their dad is, only her fighting streak has been smothered. No one respects it. No one loves it. She’s willing to fight for that, too, because unlike their dad and some other kids like Astrid, she doesn’t have everyone in the streets worshipping her by merely existing.
Valimara has to fight her way up. It’s fine to her, but not to Hiccup. It’s impossibly hard.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” Gobber grumbles, grabbing a sword from the table and thrusting it into the girl’s arms. “Sword. Sharpen. Now.”
“Ugh!” She storms to the stone and slams the blade down, machine whirring.
“We’ve got a flock of Stormcutters coming in!” someone yells form outside. Hiccup pauses his work and whirls around.
Gobber grunts, scrambling to his arm-wheel and yanking off his hammer arm to replace it with his axe one. “Man the fort, Hiccup. They need me out there. Keep an eye on your sister. And stay. Put. There. I’m serious.” He gives a glare and pointedly points to the shop, running into the streets with an echoing battle cry.
Val tosses the sword aside and grins terrifyingly.
Toothless hisses, watching the window.
“Yeah, yeah, Gobber’s gone, which means we gotta make our shot,” Hiccup replies, straightening with a little smirk. He drops a few more well-sharpened axes out by the window for anyone who needs them, and grabs the bola-launcher’s handlebars. “One shot, make it count, sis.”
She grins devilishly. “Ya don’t need to tell me twice, Hiccy.”
He grins right back, excitement taking over, and hauls the launcher out the back. Hey, he is helping, right?
The launcher is fast to set up on top of one of the hills. Valimara grabs the handlebars. “Ookay, Hiccytooth, watch my back, will ya?”
He wants to. He wants to stay with his sister. keep her safe, but he’s also needed down in the forge. Toothless can – and will – keep her safe, but he can’t get back there without Toothless, either. So, stick around here it is.
Dragons are flying everywhere.
“You know how to use it, right?” he asks, leaning over her shoulder.
“Ugh, yeah, yeah, Hiccy, I know what I’m doing.” She spits it around, bites her lip and fires. The bola whirls through the air, wrapping cleanly around one of the Stormcutters, who goes down, wings and legs bound, shrieking.
Hiccup flinches a little at the sound, but then the machine’s kick-back shoves her backwards, and Toothless is jumping forwards to catch her.
A Monstrous Nightmare comes crashing towards them, and Toothless fires at it, making the dragon break off its flight-course. Val twists the machine around and fires again with a cackle, the second bout of ropes wrapping over that dragon in question.
“Oh – okay, you guys got this really well,” Hiccup guesses, heart hammering in worried anticipation. This is cool and all, but he’s going to be in so much trouble. “I’ll head back to the forge, see what I help I can be there. See you guys, uh, in an hour.” He takes off.
Oh, right, Hiccup realizes weakly as he’s halfway down the hill back towards the village, Monstrous Nightmares cannot be held by rope.
“Hiccup, what are you doing?” someone is yelling.
He ducks another wave of flaming sparks with a shriek, and smacks full force into someone. Hiccup scrambles back with a string of apologies. “Hey!” Astrid’s hand is grabbing his shoulder and shoving him back, anyway. “Watch where you’re going!”
“Y – yeah, sorry,” he fumbles, and ducks past her, making for the shop.
He… doesn’t actually reach it.
Toothless’s angry screech reaches his ears, and then the Night Fury is jump-tackling another dragon right onto the streets.
“Out of the way!” somebody yells, and Hiccup, for his part, doesn’t hesitate to scramble back, tripping onto something cold and wood, and then someone grabs his arm and hauls him backwards as the dragons roll over, wings and lags flailing.
Her touch is gentle, familiar, and he knows without looking that’s his mom.
“Hey!” Another voice. Phlegma, one of Astrid’s aunts, Hiccup thinks. “Somebody tell the beast to watch himself!”
Valimara skids in from somewhere, but their uncle, Spitelout, hauls her back, too. “Let go!” she yells, trying to slap his hands off. “This is my fault; I have to get Tooth out of there.”
“Toothless!” Valka calls. “Let him go!”
But their dragon is too angry, too into the fight to care, and… Hiccup winces as they crash into a torch again. Toothless might be winning, but he still can’t fly.
Toothless ducks a fire blast and purple plasma hits the Nightmare again, which shrieks, spitting a few more sparks, then quickly flies away.
Valka gasps. “Look out!” she yells, and then the beam the Nightmare hit with a fire blast is crashing over… and it’s a torch.
Whoops.
Hiccup didn’t know that was a torch, and Toothless jumps back, wincing and covering his eyes with a wing. That’s what I call, his sister’s voice says in his head cheerfully. a full-body cringe.
The top of the torch breaks off, and it rolls away with a trail of flame. The fire goes right through where the Vikings have got a group of Nadders’ netted down over the sheep pen, and the dragons don’t hesitate to leave, carrying a nice portion of the flock with them.
Toothless tries to fire after, but his mouth glows, and nothing comes out. Out of shots. Toothless whines, lowering his head.
The dragons are gone, even if the fires are still flaming.
Hiccup runs from the side of the houses to his dragon, arms wrapping around his neck. Valimara sprints up, joining on the other side. “You okay?” he asks quietly, studying his dragon’s face.
Toothless whimpers a definite no, but Stoick is glaring at all three of them, and all Hiccup manages is a quiet, panicked “sorry, dad.” He already knows it, the entire island is watching them with hatred, judging and condemning.
“This dragon of yours is getting completely out of hand,” Stoick says fiercely.
“It’s not Toothless’s fault,” Hiccup protests, frustrated panic clawing up into his chest. His father’s rage is never something that’s easy to face. “He’s just trying to protect us.”
Someone laughs. Val whips her head around to glower at them.
“Okay, fine, but I did hit a dragon,” she says, sauntering past, hands in the air. “Y’know, before Mr. Meany blew up the launcher and almost set me on fire.” She has a scorch mark on the hem of her skirt. Hiccup’s only seeing it now, and his heart leaps with panic.
Stoick grabs her by the back of her tunic and hauls her off.
“Somebody should probably find it before it, y’know, like comes back and tries to set me on fire.”
“Wouldn’t that be a relief?” a bystander’s voice drifts in. Hiccup’s temper spikes, vicious and violent as ever, but well-practiced habit has him forcibly, desperately tamping down his need to scream. People hate his sister.
“Yeah! I mean, it would be fun. I always wanted to know what fire felt like. But! The Nightmare missed. I stabbed it,” she continues gleefully. “But, you know, that’s kinda what made it mad, so…”
“W – whoa, wait, you stabbed that thing?” Hiccup demands panickily, trying to keep up with their dad’s long strides.
“Enough!” Stoick yells fiercely. “Can’t you see I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed!”
“Stoick.” Their mother’s gentle but firm voice interrupts the about-to-be argument, as reliable as ever. “Don’t you think this is a conversation best served at home, in private?”
Whew.
Stoick huffs, glaring at them again. “Fine. Valka, take them home. Make sure they stay there.”
“Of course,” she answers with a sweet, near mischievous smile, and then Valka Haddock’s arm is wrapping tightly over Hiccup’s shoulder, guiding him along. “Come, Val.” She takes her daughter’s hand, pulling her after, and Toothless, whining, follows in the back.
He wishes he could push Toothless to the front, something, anything to keep him away from the hateful stares or throwing things. Of course, it’s always on the streets that the insults and taunts start.
“Quite the performance,” Tuffnut sasses, lunging on an overturned water bucket next to his sister.
Snotlout’s laugh hits his ears bright and clear, sarcasm dripping from every word. “How much can one person mess up? That sure helped!”
“The Chief should have that dragon thrown off the island,” someone is saying, more unfamiliar, but Hiccup hears the words no less, and bites his tongue until tears fill his eyes and the tangy, coppery taste of blood fills his mouth.
“Those kids, too,” someone else mutters.
“I guess being son of the chief has its privileges,” Astrid remarks over her shoulder, fiddling with the edge of her axe. “Almost feel bad for him. Two useless troublemakers, and a dragon lurking at his heels. That’s his family?”
“And don’t forget the only person who thinks you can tame a dragon. You can’t.” Fishlegs.
“Hey, Valka’s awesome!” Snotlout complains. “Don’t bad-talk her. I’m like the son she never had.”
Val digs her heels in and yanks, but their mother pulls her along. Toothless swings his tail out as he passes, batting Snotlout in the face, and he goes over with a shriek.
Hiccup doesn’t find sympathy. All he wants is to cry.
“What dragon did you say you shot down?” Valka asks over the talking, not breaking her brisk walk, though it’s not fast enough, not to put distance between them and the whispers.
“Stormcutter,” Valimara says shortly, voice shaking in a way that says she’s already crying, just quiet. Dawn is streaking the sky with purple and ever-so-distant orange flickers, but it’s still too dark to see. At least she has some privacy.
“She did hit it, Mom,” Hiccup tells her weakly, “I was there.”
“I know,” Valka replies with a conspiratorial smile as she pulls them into the house. “That’s why we’re getting something to eat and going to find it.” Her lips lift into something wistful. “Before anyone else does.”