Chapter Text
It was official. The gods hate him. Not only had he managed to screw up the raid last night and wreck the village, but he also managed to lose an entire dragon. Just when he thought his life was going to turn around for the better (he shot down a night fury for Thor’s sake!), it all went south. He doesn’t know why he expected anyone to believe him. He was the village screw-up after all. The weak, cowardly failure of a son to Stoick the Vast. How could he have shot down a night fury?
Hiccup takes one last look around to see any signs of the downed night fury, and like the rest of the day he’s spent searching, nothing. He marks yet another X down on his map and in a fit of frustration scribbles it all out before snapping the book shut.
“Uhhh, Thor. I need to find this stupid dragon. I’ve looked everywhere! Did it go down into the ocean or something?!” Hiccup smacks away a low hanging tree branch only for it to whip back around and smack him across the face. Hiccup recoils and rubs at his face in pain. This has to be punishment of some kind. He takes his hand away to glare at the offending tree, but he does a double stake as he sees it wrenched in half, like something big and fast crashed into it. Impaled on the branches, he sees what looks like a black fin with dried blood covering it. It looks torn, like the tree branches ripped it off of something. He looks to the side and sees a trench of upsetted earth going from the tree to the top of a small rise. Something big scraped along the ground. Dragon big. He found it.
Looking over the rise he sees a large black mass with huge wings. Out of instinct he ducks down, but realizing it wasn’t moving he peeks over again. There it was, his prize. A night fury.
A laugh bubbles out of his chest, and he can’t help but say aloud, “Yes, yes! I found it! This fixes everything!” He puffs out his chest, puts his foot up on the motionless dragon, and says “I, Hiccup Haddock the Third have brought down this mighty-” the night fury is no longer motionless, and moves its leg to shove Hiccup off, causing him to fall to the ground.
It’s not dead? Hiccup shakily gets back up and pulls out his knife. The night fury’s eyes are open now, staring directly at him. Hiccup looks back at it, and he’s taken aback by what he sees. When he looks into its intense green eyes he wants to say that he sees nothing but the enemy of his people, but that would be a lie. Instead, he sees this helpless creature looking up at him with eyes full of fear. The same fear that he feels. Looking at this dragon is like looking at himself. His own soul is staring back at him.
Hiccup is at a loss for what to do. He knows he should kill this dragon, but he can’t get over what he saw in its eyes. How could he kill something that fearful and helpless? How could he kill himself?
Nevertheless, he takes a deep breath and grips his knife with both hands. “I’m gonna kill you, dragon. I’m gonna-I’m gonna cut out your heart and bring it to my father. I am a viking. I am a viking!” he firmly declares to the dragon. Or is it to himself? Either way, the words make him feel ill. He lifts the knife high above his head, ready to drive it down into the defenseless beast. He knows he shouldn’t, but he takes one last look at the night fury. At those intelligent eyes. Now they aren’t just fearful, they’re pleading with him. Begging him, “please, don’t kill me.” Hiccup hesitates, still baring the knife. I have to do this. I have to kill it. I have to do this. Then why did it feel so wrong? He thinks he’s gonna be sick.
In a moment of steely determination, and with a yell that could probably be heard from Berk, Hiccup squeezes his eyes shut, goes against every bit of his conscience telling him no, don’t do this, please!, and plunges the knife down into the dragon’s hide. A yelp of pain sounds from the night fury as dark blood pours from the wound and onto Hiccup’s hands. He opens his eyes to see his knife stuck in the dragon, and looks over at those brilliant green eyes, that are so full of fear, intelligence, and pain, and watches their light fade into a cold stare. Hiccup feels a wetness on his cheeks as his vision becomes blurry. Ah, I’m crying.
He lets go of his knife and scrambles away from the now dead dragon. He did it. He killed a dragon. A night fury. He killed a night fury. Why did he feel so terrible, then? Why did he feel like he was going to-? Hiccup doubles over and vomits on the ground next to him. More tears fall as he begins to sob. Why? Why am I acting like this? I’ve seen dragons get killed before. Why am I being so weak? He hugs himself as he continues to sob uncontrollably, but he doesn't understand why.
After he regains a bit of control, Hiccup looks back at the night fury’s corpse, and, seeing his knife still sticking out of it, he remembers what he said he’d do. Cut out its heart and take it to his father. He crawls over to the night fury, and, tears still falling, begins to tear the dragon’s hide open, and cut out its heart.
*rip*
So much blood.
*tear*
It’s everywhere.
Hiccup ends up vomiting a few more times before he’s done, nothing left to hurl up by the end, and sits on the ground, dragon heart in hand, covered in the night fury’s blood. He’s not crying anymore. He used up all of his tears. On shaky legs, he stands and begins to walk back to Berk, heart still clutched in his hand.
The heart was warm in his hand.
He had killed a dragon. He was a viking, that was part of the job description. Dragons were the enemies of vikings, so why did it feel like he killed a part of himself? If he was a viking, why did every part of his body scream at him to not kill that dragon? Hiccup didn't understand. He did the right thing. He killed a dragon. Even still, the heart in his hand felt like it was his own.
The heart had gone cold.
By the time he makes it back to the village it’s become dark. He enters his house and sees his father tending the hearth. Stoick hears him come in, and says in his deep voice, “Son, I need to speak with-” he cuts himself off when he looks at him. “Hiccup?! What happened? Are you alright?” Stoick rushes over to Hiccup and begins to look him over.
Oh yeah, I forgot about all the blood. He faintly tells Stoick, “Not mine.”
Hiccup sees his father's gaze fall to his hand. Stoick’s eyes widen.
“Is that…?”
Hiccup nods. “Dragon heart. Night Fury. For you.” he whispers as he extends the heart out to Stoick, eyes focused on the heart.
“A night fury? You mean you weren’t lying about shooting one down?”
Hiccup’s eyes snap up and he vigorously shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t lying! I really shot down a real night fury! Why don’t you believe me? I cut out its heart to show you!” he yells, starting to hyperventilate.
“Shh, easy Hiccup. I believe you. Don’t worry, I believe you” Stoick affirms.
That’s a first. Hiccup only nods at his father’s words. He tries to get his breathing under control as he walks over to a post and sets the heart down on a ledge.
“So, what was it like? The night fury?” Stoick hesitantly asks.
“It was… black. All black. About the size of a nadder. Big wings. Smaller head. Four legs. I think it had tail fins, but a tree ripped one of them off when it fell.” He doesn’t tell Stoick about its eyes. Just thinking about them makes him want to throw up.
Then, something very unexpected happened. Hiccup suddenly found himself being lifted off the ground and into the bone-crushing embrace of his father.
“Ha ha ha! Amazing! After all these years, my son is the one to finally kill a night fury! Thor, almighty!”
Hiccup can hardly believe his ears. Is his dad…proud of him? Him? The son he wished came extra large with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side?
Stoick sets Hiccup down and takes him by the shoulders. “Hiccup, what you have just done is something great, something vikings have dreamed of doing for hundreds of years. I’m proud of you, son. I know you’ll make an amazing chief one day.”
There they are. The words Hiccup has been waiting his entire life to hear. So why does he feel so empty? “Thanks, dad” is all he can say.
“We’ll send out a search party to find its corpse and bring it back. Where did it go down?”
He had told Stoick this before. Apparently he wasn’t listening.
“Just off Raven Point.”
“Good. We’ll have it back in the village by tomorrow.” Stoick smiles and pulls Hiccup into another hug.
Feeling a bit awkward, Hiccup tries to change the subject. “Uh, dad? Wasn’t there something you needed to talk to me about?”
“Oh! Yes, right.” Stoick lets go of Hiccup. “Dragon training. You start in the morning.”
A pit of dread drops in Hiccup’s stomach. Dragon training? I have to hurt more dragons. I have to kill more dragons. I can’t go through that again. He opens his mouth to protest but before he can get the words out a heavy ax is dropped in his arms.
“You’ll need this. You’ll have a head start on the others, seeing as you just killed your first dragon…!” Stoick can’t help the excitement in his voice when he says that. “*cough* But, you still need to go. Not every dragon you kill will be shot down.” Stoick grabbed a packed bag and his helmet and made for the door. “I’m sorry I can't stay to celebrate with you, but I know you’ll do great in the arena. Train hard. I’ll be back. Probably.”
“And I’ll be here,” he quietly replies. The door shuts behind Stoick, leaving Hiccup alone. He looks into the fire and wonders how many more dragons he'll have to kill. A tear falls down his cheek.
“Maybe.”