Eighteen: Broken

He turned the medallion over and over in his hand, fingers absently exploring every tiny imperfection, every variation in the familiar contour as he tried to understand what had happened. Hiccup took a shaking sigh and closed his eyes, rerunning that day, under the sun at the edge of the market as he had finally given her the gift she deserved...

"Astrid..."

"I...er...I need to check on Stormfly..."

"No-no, you don't."

"I don't?" She had looked so uncertain, her blue eyes filled with unfamiliar anxiety. He remembered feeling light-headed with adrenaline as he faced the girl he loved, his desire to make the moment perfect.

"No-you need to stand right here and...and take this in." The medallion was cool in his hand as he had fished it from his satchel and then he had shown it to her, praying she wouldn't scorn a gift that wasn't silver or gold but more precious than either. "This was my father's betrothal gift to my mother." Her eyes had widened as he placed it around her neck. "And he gave it to me-to give to you." Her soft gasp had worried him as she cradled the gift in her hands, her azure gaze sweeping over the old fashioned design and her expression unreadable. "Astrid-you're a part of our family-you always have been. And, I hope, you always will be."

But his gentle, hopeful words had been met by a sigh and she had looked away, making his heart clench with fear that she hated the gift-and maybe regretted agreeing to his Proposal at all. But he had rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Er...well...if you don't like it..." he began but she had looked back, the unfamiliar sight of an uncertain Astrid causing him to still.

"Hiccup-I...it's beautiful. It's perfect!" she told him, easing a little of the pressure in his chest. "It's just I-I didn't get you a gift..." She looked unhappy. "I don't know what to get and I..." His heart soared in relief.

"Astrid-you got me the greatest gift in the world. You!" And she had smiled then, her unhappiness easing and her hands curling around his as he took them. "You being here with me-is all the gift I need."

"And you still are," he sighed, opening his eyes to stare at the medallion once more. "I need you more than ever." Quietly, he raised it to his lips and kissed it-before he slipped it over his neck and slid it under his tunic. And then he winced as the burned skin of his brand pulled. "Or maybe this is you telling me that it's over-because you can't marry a slave. Because you can't be with someone who isn't a person any more. Because I'm no longer worthy of you."

And though his heart knew Astrid wasn't that shallow, his fears were swirling around him like a fog. He loved her desperately and to wake and find his Betrothal gift in his hand meant that she had returned and not spoken to him. That she had sneaked in and left him once more. And worse, she had spoken to his father...but hadn't stayed to discuss with him. And his fists clenched in anger and disappointment and just plain despair as he stared down across the village from the space outside the Great Hall. Toothless was curled at his back, refusing to leave him because the Night Fury had sensed that he was in pain and unhappy...

"Hey, H-how're things?" Tuff interrupted him, walking out of the Great Hall, chewing on a hunk of mutton.

"Not great, Tuff," he said. "Just kinda want to be alone right now." The male twin ignored him and sat by him.

"Nah-you need someone here, cheering you up," he insisted and peered at him. "You got any cool scars from Viggo?" Hiccup stiffened and stared down the village.

"You think this is gonna cheer me up?" he asked pointedly.

"Look-you know it's only fun if you get a scar out of it," Tuff reminded him.

"No, it really isn't," Hiccup told him, absently, his left arm bending to protectively press over where his brand was concealed under his tunic. Tuff leaned forward.

"Ooh? You holding out on us?" he smirked. "What's the scar like?"

"None of your business!" Hiccup snapped, his tone sharp. Oblivious, Tuff grabbed at the fabric and Hiccup flinched away, his fists clenching.

"No-you gotta show us, man!" he protested. "Look, I'll show you mine if you..."

"Get off me!" Hiccup shouted, his voice rising with vague panic. What if Tuff saw his brand? The male twin was pathologically unable to keep any sort of a secret-and when word was out, Hiccup was ruined. His birthright, his place in the Tribe, his home...all would be lost. It would finally finish what Viggo and Krogan had started, even though they were now gone. Tuff grinned wildly.

"Come on, young Hiccy," he said, wrestling at the auburn-haired Viking's tunic...and Hiccup lashed out, an allow catching Tuff and then his fist lashing out, dumping the male twin on his ass. "OW! I am hurt. I am very much hurt!" Tuff yelped as Hiccup scrambled up. Toothless was on his face at the frantic cry and gave a shattering roar that echoed up and down the village. Hiccup swung into the saddle as Ruff and Snotlout emerged, staring in shock at Tuffnut whining and clutching at his bleeding nose.

"What happened?" Snotlout asked, his eyes narrowing.

"He attacked me!" Tuff protested.

"Toothless, get me out of here!" Hiccup breathed, his eyes wide and panicked, leaning low over the saddle. The Night Fury responded immediately, growling at the others as they crowded forward and then leaping down the very long and steep staircase to the Great Hall. Halfway down, the dragon spread his great wings and glided down to the Plaza, outpacing the others as they sprinted after him. Not even slowing, Toothless bounded down the village and out of sight. Snotlout stared at the twins and folded his arms.

"What did you muttonheads do?" Tuff sat up, trying the staunch the flow of blood from his nose and shrugged.

"Nothing we've not done a hundred times before," he said sulkily. "I just wanted to compare scars and..." Ruffnut kicked him in exasperation.

"Not the time," Snotlout told him irritably. "Even if he hadn't just miraculously woke from a coma that he should never have survived, he was very badly hurt when he was kept prisoner. Leave the poor guy alone!"

"But he knows I like a good scar..." Tuff whined.

"And has he ever let you see his leg? Anyone?" Snotlout asked him shortly.

There was a pause.

"Well...no..."

Folding his arms, the stocky Viking stared in the direction his cousin had vanished.

"Hiccup is self-conscious," he sighed. "Embarrassed about how he looks. We all teased him from when he was pretty young about being a runt and a fishbone. We still tease him-but when he has Astrid there, he can cope, because she loves him constantly. But this time it was different. He nearly died...nearly nearly nearly died. Forcing him to show the scars he was given when he was tortured so badly...you deserved it, Tuff."

"How dare you!" the male twin protested but Fishlegs, who had arrived at the commotion, nodded his head sagely, even as Ruff scowled at him.

"Actually...I think Snotlout is right," he admitted. "Hiccup suffered a terrible trauma. And he is very brave and determined...but some trauma is so terrible that it has after-effects."

"He punched Tuff!" Ruff protested but Snotlout burst out laughing.

"Ha! So now you know what Thor's Mighty Hammer feels like!" he scoffed, reminding the twins of the time when they had recruited Snotlout to challenge Hiccup to a fight-only to be knocked cold by the skinny Viking's astonishingly powerful blow. Both twins glared.

"Guys-this is serious," Fishlegs warned them. "He may not be the same person we knew." And he stared down the Plaza. "We need to go after him." The twins and Snotlout shared a look.

"Hookfang needs cleaning."

"Barf's claws need polishing."

"So do Belch's."

"Muttonhead-they're the same claws!"

"So they definitely need cleaning!" Fishlegs looked over at Heather.

"Come on," he sighed. "Someone needs to find him and see if he is okay." She nodded and walked post the others.

"Muttonheads," she growled.

oOo

Hiccup arrived in the Arena, still breathing hard and boiling with anger, which surprised him because he really wasn't an angry guy. But for Tuff to invade his personal space, to want to see the scars he had earned for his defiance and the brand that would irrevocably lose him the friends he had come to depend on...it was far too much. Toothless halted in the centre of the Arena, a worried croon vibrating through the dragon's warm shape. Leaning forward, Hiccup rested his hand on Toothless's head.

"I know, bud," he murmured, forcing himself to clamber off the dragon and pace. "But he would have seen. Oh Thor. They would all have known...that I am nothing. Just a piece of property like..." And he cast around the Arena and grabbed the nearest weapon. "Like this axe. Except that an axe has value while I am actually...worthless!" And he gave a scream, attacking the boxes piled neatly close to the centre of the Arena, slamming the weapons rack aside and throwing every weapon he could find across the Arena until finally, he was exhausted and dropped to his knees, his head bowed and covered by his hands.

Toothless gave a small warble and tentatively walked forward, sitting beside his young viking and curling his tail protectively around his rider. Hiccup's shoulders jerked as he breathed jaggedly.

"I wish they had let me die," he murmured.

Pausing at the entrance, Fishlegs looked at Heather and the Berserker nodded, turning to run back up the hill, searching for the familiar flame-haired shape of the Chief. Fortunately, he was up by the storehouses, assessing the supplies and calculating what they would need to find to replenish their stores before the winter really set in. Heather panted to a halt, her eyes wide and Stoick immediately looked at her with concern.

"Sir-it's Hiccup," she said.

By the time they reached the Arena, Hiccup hadn't moved, his head bowed and arms hanging loosely with his hands clasped in his lap. Toothless was curled around him, protecting his little Viking-though he looked up as the solid and powerful shape of the Chief approached, his steps soft for such a large man, his heavy bearskin cloak billowing in the cold wind. Giving a small, worried croon, Toothless slid his tail away to allow Stoick to crouch down by his only child.

"Son," he said gruffly, his tone warm and gentle. A hand reassuringly grasped Hiccup's shoulder as his head raised slowly.

"Hi Dad," the young man mumbled. "Sorry." Stoick squeezed gently, his eyes crinkling with worry.

"You know, I hear Tuff running down the Plaza yelling that he was very much hurt," he said conversationally. "Which almost certainly means he is not. But someone had punched him in the face." Hiccup gave a bitter laugh.

"I've gone through far worse," he commented dryly. "But no one cares why..." Stoick's arm wrapped around the shoulders, feeling his son turned to bury his face in his father's chest.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again-your friends are an odd bunch," Stoick commented gently. "But there's no doubt their hearts are in the right place. They care for you, son-they just have a odd way of showing it." Hiccup shook his head, slowly looking up to show his father the desolation in his eyes.

"And when they find out they wasted their time, they'll outcast me-like everyone else," he said quietly.

"Son..."

"No, Dad! They know the law as do you. I'm branded. A slave. No longer a person. Nothing." He swallowed. "And the will realise they wasted their efforts, risked their lives and their dragons to save me, to rescue me and find the cure when they would have been better letting me die."

"They would never do that, Hiccup," his father said quietly. "You taught them too well, made them the team they are."

"And I can never be their leader, their Chief again..." The last word almost cracked but Stoick squeezed his son gently,

"You are their Chief, son-and they love you," he reminded his son. "You are their Chief-and no one else. They won't care you are marked with the symbol of a destroyed Tribe."

"Astrid cared," Hiccup said brokenly. "She left me because I was nothing. I wasn't worthy of her any more..." But Stoick chuckled and shook his head, causing his son to look up.

"You couldn't be more wrong, Hiccup," he said. "Astrid left because she was ashamed at what she felt she had to do the avenge your hurts-and prevent them ever coming after you again. She destroyed the Hunter Tribe so no one can ever lay claim to you. She killed Krogan and Viggo. Only one remains. Only Johann..."

"Johann? Trader Johann?" Hiccup asked, his voice unconvinced.

"That was what she said," the Chief confirmed. "And she showed me a letter Viggo wrote to Johann. It was sufficient proof that the leader of the Hunters reported to Johann. Trader Johann was in command of the whole enterprise." Hiccup shook his head.

"I-I can't believe..." he mumbled and then he paused. Tiny clues, inconsistencies, coincidences all started to flood through his agile brain. Johann reporting Dagur was alone when Heather flew after him-only to find an Armada. Johann being on Outcast Island as Dagur escaped. The shape he had seen as he woke with Toothless standing over him, roaring in fury at an assassination attempt...the pink puffy sleeves, cap and beard....now resolving into a familiar person that he never would have suspected...though there was still a modicum of cynicism.

He nodded.

"Then she's in danger," he said. Stoick nodded.

"So I believe," he murmured. "And she certainly does."

"She'll be safer here," Hiccup determined.

"She left to keep you safe," his father reminded him, though he recognised the familiar stubborn expression on Hiccup's pale features. The boy still had a significant amount of recuperation to go to regain his fitness and his father realised that the Night Fury rider was planning not to grant himself the time he needed to recover from his close shave with Hela. Hiccup chuckled.

"I ride a Night Fury, Dad," he reminded his Chief. "Not much sure how much safer I can get."

"Oh, you are not going after her, son," Stoick said determinedly. "I forbid it." Hiccup stared levelly into his eyes.

"No power on Midgard can stop me," he said with utter conviction. "I love her and I know she needs me."

"I need you. Berk needs you. The Riders need their leader." His face closed.

"I can't face them-not yet," he said quietly.

"You are going to have to, son," the Chief reminded him. "They're your friends." Hiccup dug his hands in his hair, tugging as he struggled with his emotions.

"And what can I say to them? Sorry Tuff for punching you for trying to invade my personal space, show you the scars I am mortally ashamed of and proving you all wasted your time and efforts on rescuing a broken slave?"

"Perhaps I wouldn't have chosen those exact words," Stoick commented. "I think they may surprise you." Hiccup shook his head.

"It won't work, Dad," he mumbled, his head bowing once more. "I'm broken."