Hiccup and Toothless Concept Art Left 4 Dead 2 Arena

Chapter Text

"You are so disrepair."

They were the last words Hiccup would hear from his long-time crush, and they hurt him more deeply than whatever dismissal she had given him before. In it bared the painful truth of their altitude from one another. Their priorities, their loyalties, their morals—all worlds autonomously.

The most promising Viking of their age had non even the natural curiosity to find out why the master'south son had a saddled Night Fury hidden in a cove. Astrid was programmed to never question—only trust authorization, trust what she had been taught, and do.

Don't think. Do.

The perfect Viking. The antithesis of everything Hiccup embodied.

"Da-da-da, we're dead," he blew out. He caught the cuff of Astrid's kick vanish between rocks. Damn, she was fast.

For ane, wild moment Hiccup had the impulse to run later her—to kidnap Astrid and force her stubborn listen to accept the possibility that thousands of years of Viking teachings were incorrect.

His centre skipped a crush every bit information technology all played out: He would hop on Toothless, catch her before she reached the village, and accept her on a ride that would change her world. It would work. It had to. How could anyone be unchanged past the free, weightless feeling of air pushing at every angle of their body? Or the moist caress of clouds on their cheeks? Or the sight of every towering edifice and rocky overhang shrunk down to the size of a thumbnail? And all on the back of the reputed "natural enemy"...

If he could just get her on Toothless, Astrid would run across for herself the great benefits of befriending a dragon. He could show her the skillful they were capable of, the pointlessness of this war. They could bond over the experience. He could gain a human companion to talk to—
Hiccup's shoulders slumped and the slightly upturned corner of his oral fissure vicious into a dejected glower. He was getting ahead of himself, like ever.

This was Astrid. He could fly her to the northern lights and back and she'd withal be prepare to take an axe to Toothless.

What did it affair who she told? He was leaving anyway. He had his supplies packed, a note for his father explaining everything without revealing too much...though Astrid shouting about him being in league with the dragons might outset the content of that.

A dark, hulking shape shifted at the corner of Hiccup's eye. Toothless slunk abroad, seemingly unconcerned with Astrid'due south divergence but radiation intense irritation.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—where do you think you're going?" asked Hiccup with his own flavor of attitude. Toothless pitched a snort over his shoulder and ambled towards his favorite resting spot below the roots of a large conifer. Hiccup pursued.

"Toothless—! Toothless terminate! I didn't bring her here, I swear! She must accept followed me, she—"

Toothless halted and then suddenly that Hiccup tripped over his own feet only to go along from running into the large, dark hibernate. The dragon nudged Hiccup'southward swollen wrist with his nose—sprained from Astrid's quick and skillful snap.

"She doesn't know her own strength," Hiccup tried lamely, wincing at the touch on.

Toothless'southward face said it all: 'Bullshit. I don't like her.'

Hiccup hugged the hand to his chest and bandage a worried glance at the cove archway.

"A-anyhow, we need to go out of here—my dad's back from the hunt and he seems to be under the impression that I want to impale a Monstrous Nightmare tomorrow. Ha!  Equally if I could!"

He trudged back to his pack, shoulders hunched.

"Ah, who was I kidding anyway? I mean, really, how long did I recollect this lilliputian charade would proceed for? I wasn't thinking—that'south the problem. I didn't think of how it would all end. Of course there was going to be some point where I would have to choose… I'grand so stupid…" the mumbled tirade tapered every bit he stepped over the dropped supplies.

Astrid'south axe—the one he had thrown from her grasp in a rare tour of strength—lay forgotten next to his gear.

Had it not been this particular girl who had told him to effigy out what side he was on?

"Now I know," he sighed aloud. Never again would it be in question.

Bypassing the weapon, Hiccup gripped the thick, leather strap and slung the woven basket over his shoulder. He teetered for a moment at the awkward weight. The encounter with Astrid left him rattled; he almost walked into Toothless for the second time when he turned to find the dragon trailing two feet behind him.

Toothless prodded the pack with his nose and moaned expectantly.

"No," Hiccup pushedToothless's olfactory organ away, "there'southward no fish in at that place—merely some dress and supplies for myself. As soon as we get settled some place far, far abroad I'll utilize it to cart around your dejeuner again, you lot spoiled, overgrown salamander."

The Night Fury crooned and rubbed his crown confronting Hiccup's side. Distress connected to roll off of his human being in waves; the male child was scared, injure and upset, and the absence of the girl did not lessen it as Toothless hoped. Hiccup used that voice—the droll voice—equally he often did when he needed a crutch.

Tension ebbed from Hiccup's face every bit he captivated Toothless' warm, unwavering support against his ribs. He placed a mitt on tiptop of the dragon'due south head and gave it a light scratch.

"Com'on bud," he said, feeling far calmer than he had moments agone. He knew, deep downward, that he was making the correct decision. For both of them. "Lets get out of here before the Vikings start pouring into the cove." It felt weird referring to Vikings every bit though he were from a separate unit, and at the same time right. Spending about of his life isolated from his own culture likely helped.  "Lets head s for now. I think I can survive a trivial easier in a warmer climate."

Toothless wiggled his barrel in excitement before settling to requite Hiccup a moment to leg upward.

Subconsciously understanding the silent cue, Hiccup placed one foot in a stirrup. He paused, and cast a last look downward at the axe—an axe representing the life he planned on leaving backside. An ostracized, misunderstood and lone life. The Viking life that he could never quite acclimate to.

He felt a strong wave of resentment towards that axe.

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"Night Fury!"

1 third of the village threw themselves on the ground, despite broad daylight, clear skies, and no dragon in sight.

Even with a number of villagers ducking their heads below their easily, Astrid managed to get a good deal of attending as she came bounding out of the northern forests.

"In that location's a Night Fury—the forest—in a cove—Hiccup'southward been keeping it a secret!" she gasped, turning to whatever developed that faced her. "Please! We've got to get over at that place now, I think he'southward running away on it!"

Such ludicrous accusations would have nigh people laughed directly out of Berk. But this was Astrid Hofferson—the most no-nonsense, focused, and domineering Viking of her historic period group. Arguably, of the isle.

Once apparent that no Offspring of Lightning and Decease circled the heavens, a crowd began to course around the girl.

"Calm downwardly, lass," a robust woman spoke out over the hysterics. "Tell us clearly—more than calmly at present."

Taking a deep jiff, Astrid did so, more slowly and more than clearly then that anybody would understand the severity of the situation. And so that they would know of Hiccup's fraudulence. So they would recognize the true prodigy amongst the newest dragon battlers.

She spoke of her suspicions, her pains to follow him, and finally, in great item, what she came upon at the base of operations of Raven'due south Betoken.

Everyone, evidently, did non empathize her tale.

Small smiles of skepticism turned into a hearty circular of chuckles.

Astrid stood, shocked, having never been laughed at before in her life. Estrus burned her cheeks and crept down her neck. Hiccup had left—fled the island like a coward and on the back of a dragon like a traitor—and the troll-brained toothpick however managed to beal her!

"H-hiccup? My Hiccup?" Stoick said with a express mirth half-built-in of disbelief. Astrid started, not realizing that the main had been present for her explanation.

Astrid squared her shoulders, every bit she was taught, even in the face up of humiliation.

"Information technology'southward true, sir," she said. "It was a Nighttime Fury, had to exist."

"Nonsense! He sends those dragons running every time he steps in th' rink!" someone shouted from the back of the oversupply.

"Because he uses tricks to control them!" Astrid returned, trying to fight off the tenor of agony with her effort oral fissure and shaking hands. She kept her eyes locked with the Chief's. "The dragon pounced! And when I went to defend myself Hiccup attacked me. He made the dragon stop its attack—he made information technology listen—but I bet he could get in attack besides if he wanted to! He chose to side with the dragon!"

No one listened to her. She saw likewise many shaking heads. Heard to many murmurs.

She wanted to hitting something. She wanted to strike every Viking that chose to believe an absent traitor over her. Panic and discomfort squirmed in her gut.

"Go to the cove simply southwest of Raven Point!" Astrid cried out. "I've seen him disappearing off into that direction for weeks now! Ask anybody!

Who sees him during they twenty-four hour period when he's not in grooming? That's where he's been going! That's where the dragon was! A Dark Fury!"

And there it was! Under the Master'south thick red brow, Astrid caught a flicker of doubt in those Icelandic green irises. Stoick the Vast may accept been more knowledgeable on what his son was capable of, after all.

He had only seen Hiccup in the rink once. He still knew his son as someone who could not embrace the Viking fashion.

Unfortunately, the chief was the only positive reaction Astrid could discern.

"She's probably makin' upwardly stories..."

"...Jealous..."

"Never would take thought information technology from her, but there yeh have it..."

Astrid saw relief repress the uncertainty in Stoick's stance as the whispers started.

"Settle down, settle down," Stoick chosen out in his deep, Scottish burr. "Let'southward non leap to whatever conclusions. I'm sure Hiccup will arrive back here at any 60 minutes he commonly does 'n' information technology can all exist worked out then. I'grand certain this is all a misunderstanding. Until then, let's just let the subject driblet."

The restlessness of the crowd eased and, content to retrieve of the best of their new, young prodigy and beloved chieftain, dispersed.

Astrid was left with merely rage and despair—a sour shock—until her peers honed in on her.

"What was that about?" Ruffnut asked. Her braids swung as she came to a end beside the daughter. The residuum of the guys kept their distance, picking up on the Astrid's hostility.

Astrid shook her head, still experiencing incredulity at being publicly dismissed similar that. "This is bullshit."

Snotlout edged closer to Astrid.

"Hiccup had a Night Fury?"

Astrid snapped her head effectually to confront him.

"Chosen information technology Toothy or something," she snarled, and her hate for the situation mounted with every breath she took after. She knew full well the thing's name was 'Toothless', but she couldn't bring herself to utter the title as though the dragon could be considered a harmless pet.

This was how he had been beating her in preparation—he had been getting tricks from the very source.

And just when Astrid thought her temper couldn't heighten any higher, she felt her stomach churn again and an ugly cherry-red blotch her cheeks.

It was just then...so... underhanded. So deceitful. So wrong. Dragons attacked them, left and correct, for generations. They stole their livestock, left family'due south starving through the wintertime, tore limbs from bodies and lives—!

Astrid drew in a shaky breath but it did zero to settle her ire.

Hiccup went confronting everything they stood for every bit Vikings. And his farce had worked so well that some people were willing to believe him over her… when the very idea was laughable not 1 calendar month agone!

She shoved passed Tuffnut'due south shoulder, ignoring his squawk of indignation, and fix a warpath to the grooming arena. She needed to hitting something. Difficult.

Unsurprisingly, the gang followed. Gossip trumped survival instincts every time when one lived on an island as pocket-size equally Berk.

"Was it the one he said he shot down?" Fishlegs asked to no one in particular. Astrid almost stopped; she had completely forgotten about that incident. But now that she thought about information technology...

"Wait... yous hateful weeks ago in the last dragon raid?" Tuffnut asked, squinting into the sun. He scratched at a recently acquired burn on his arm as he skipped to keep upwardly with Astrid'due south long strides.

"No way did that actually happen," Snotlout said, but the confidence in his vox sounded forced.

He may accept respected his cousin for getting first identify in dragon grooming, but taking down a Night Fury dorsum when he was Useless was taking things a flake as well far. His pride couldn't handle that.

"No, no, remember about it," Fishlegs said, getting excited. He began counting off on his fingers. "Hiccup uses his invention to take down a Night Fury—so naturally no ane believes him. Then he suddenly gets better and ameliorate at dragon training, not using anything we were really taught, and getting, like, plus-one-hundred dragon fighting skills from nowhere—"

Astrid silently listened as she kept her fast footstep and captivated the other perspectives volunteered at her back. The timing did fit with Hiccup's claim...

And how many Night Furies could there be? They seemed so rare...

"And he was gone all 24-hour interval, every day, more or less," Ruffnut mused, recalling on what Astrid shouted at Berk not too long agone. "He made lots of excuses to get away from people..."

Tuffnut rubbed his chin. "Information technology was weird, now that I think nearly information technology."

"Yeah, now he thinks well-nigh information technology," Ruffnut muttered, completely ignoring the fact no 1 else besides Astrid questioned it at the time. Tuffnut bristled.

"At least I wasn't all starry-eyed over him!"

"You were too!" Ruffnut shouted dorsum before realizing that wasn't the argument she should have been making. Shrugging at the insinuation, she gladly accepted her brother's tackle, taking a handful of his dreads and tugging fiercely.

Snotlout continued to shadow Astrid, overstepping Ruffnut's tangle of braids on the ground as she tumbled by.

"You lot said it attacked you lot?" he asked.

Astrid crossed the threshold of the Impale Ring, too steamed to give the tussling pair so much as an center roll.

"Yep," she said soon. "He tried to distract me at first from finding it. He was protecting information technology—protecting a dragon from a Viking! How ill tin y'all become?"

Every bit Astrid vented, Snotlout nodded sympathetically from her side.

"And I should have put two and two together sooner!" Astrid continued with a snarl of self-reproach. "I'd seen him lugging around riding gear, then I find the dragon with a saddle on its back—"

"He's riding the dragon?" Snotlout yelled at the same time the twins crowed: "Absurd!"

Fishlegs looked similar he may accept wet his pants.

Astrid whirled on all of them.

"It's not cool!" she barked. "He's a cheat and a traitor! And now he's an outcast! You'll see. He was packed to become—said they were 'going on a vacation forever'. He's not coming back. He left us. And so they," she thrust a shaking finger towards the village, "will all have to acknowledge what he actually was. A fake."

Her heart calmed every bit she shouted the comforting truth. There was nothing cool about riding a dragon, or taming one, or controlling ane. Nothing at all. Because it was wrong. Everything about Hiccup Horrendous Haddock was wrong and that'due south the mode things should be. He wasn't a corking

Viking warrior. He wasn't amend than her through some magical luck. He wasn't a prodigy or savior to their hamlet.

He spit on them—through lies and betrayal and deception. Then he abandoned them.

Astrid'due south universe had shifted back into balance; things were going to be okay for her once more. One time this mess was settled, she would exist back at the elevation, where she belonged, leading the fight against dragons. As a Viking should.

She faced forward again and reached for the axe at her back...

Her fingers grasped at air. Her anger returned full strength.

"Argh! Hiccup!"

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Source: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Random_Library/works/1610018

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