Nineteen.

Hiccup woke, stiff. He blinked and tried to piece where he was. He sat up warily and realised the fire was banked for the night and his clothes had been repaired and were hanging, dry, just by the fire. He winced as he reached for them.

"You owe her more thanks than you could ever repay," a gruff voice growled. Hiccup stared up and all the fears came back. He hunched his whipped shoulders and ducked his head, lowering his eyes in fear. It was Astrid's father.

"I-I know, sir," he replied softly. He rubbed his forehead. "She said she would wake me. I never meant to intrude, sir." The man walked closer and his eyes were distrustful. He was eyeing the boy as if he was an enemy and he self-consciously put his hand over the brand. His hair flopped over his face, and he found he was breathing hard.

"My daughter pleaded for me to allow you to spend the night here and I have granted her request," Hofferson said gruffly. His tone was very grudging and Hiccup read his own desire for the boy to go.

"You don't want me here," he said evenly.

"No. But Astrid begged on your behalf."

"She is a very good friend," Hiccup replied. Astrid...begging on his behalf? He wasn't sure if he should feel humiliated or honoured.

No, you know which it is.

"And you damage her." Hiccup painfully pushed himself to his foot, his prosthesis propped by the stool. The tub had been cleaned away. He hopped unsteadily to the stool and sat heavily, mechanically beginning to strap the prosthesis on.

"I know. But friendship-and kindness-are in very short supply, sir." He blinked hard. Gods, he couldn't start weeping again. "I will go. I think...I know that will be better for her. And you."

"The offer stands and it is genuine, no matter my own feelings," Hofferson told him. "You gave her Stormfly. You gave her adventure and battle. For my Astrid, that is the most precious thing she could have received. When she talked about her adventures, about her training, she talked of you. She never believed your treason. I think she still believes everything can be as it was." Hiccup grasped his mended tunic and slipped it over his head. He could feel the man's eyes flicking disdainfully at his beaten shape.

"And we-we both know that isn't going to happen, sir," Hiccup said wearily, hauling his leggings up and unwinding the towel. He folded it neatly and placed it by the fire to dry. He grabbed his boot and pulled it on. He fished out his notebook and scribbled a short note of thanks to his friend. He placed it on the towel and folded the blanket by it. Then he grasped the ointment for his leg and slowly rose to his feet. "Please, tell her...thanks. I don't want to cause any trouble."

And then he walked slowly to the door, pausing for a long moment at the threshold. Hofferson wondered if he was going to ask if he could stay. But the boy was steeling himself for the cold icy blast that met his face as he walked out and slowly closed the door. Hofferson stared at the note for a long moment and left it. The boy had seemed genuine: his daughter deserved her thanks-provided she never brought him home again.

oOo

Hiccup shivered as he limped slowly down the hill. It was cold and the frost was heavy on the grass. He was almost regretting turning down Mr Hofferson's almost kind offer of a bed for the night but he knew that he needed to be with Toothless: it was the only place he had felt safe since he got back. So he wrapped his arms around his body, dug his chin into his chest and picked up the pace-and almost ran into a large guard.

He stopped with a gasp and backed away, murmuring anxious apologies. He wasn't sure how the Berk Guards would react to him as a free man. The man peered down at him like a particularly nasty insect.

"Where are you going, slave?" he sneered. Hiccup gulped and took another small pace back.

"To-to the arena," he said quickly, ignoring the feeling of anxiety that crawled up his spine. He could hear footsteps behind him and that was something currently able to send him into a flat panic. "It's...it's where I'm staying...sir..." he finished. The second man shoved him forward and he yelped. His welts were still tender.

"Curfew," the second man growled.

"I'm-I'm sorry, sir..." he said quickly, feeling the panic rise in his throat. Thor, please make them let me go!

"Can't let traitors and Berserker slaves wander around, spying on the defences!" the first guard explained reasonably. Hiccup nodded wildly but the unfairness of the accusation struck him. He had earned a horrible series of forfeits for refusing Dagur the information.

"I-I understand," he stammered as the second man walked round inspect him. He grasped Hiccup's tunic and ran his hand over his throat, his touch lingering on his bruises.

"Looks like you enjoy it rough, slut," he said, a nasty smile twisting his lips. His hand slid down his chest, to his waist, then caressed his hips.

"Doesn't look like much but Dagur and he were at it like rabbits in the Chief's House!" the first one said. The second one scowled.

"Don't like slaves...or Berserkers," he growled. His hand moved across Hiccup's hips and grasped his backside. He went rigid, his eyes widening and mouth drying in terror. He shook his head.

"Please, don't..." he murmured. The second man suddenly jerked Hiccup against him and ground his hips against the boy's stomach. He swallowed nervously and shook his head again.

"You're a slave so you do what you're told!" the first guard told him nastily.

"Er..." Hiccup managed, hyperventilating. "Why-why are you d-doing this?" The man leaned closer.

"So you want it from behind?" he breathed and Hiccup swung out with his metal leg, catching the man hard on the shin. He gave a cry and dropped Hiccup and in that moment, he ran for it. All thoughts of his very sore stump or the cold or the myriad of pains that shot through his body were banished because every sense was straining to listen for the two furious guards who were running after him. He knew he was at a disadvantage. He hadn't been particularly quick even before he had lost his leg but now, he knew he was losing ground to the two large and angry guards.

His prosthesis slid on a frozen patch of mud and his arms flailed, hands touching down briefly on the ground and stopping him face-planting. He scrabbled away but he could hear the guards closing. Then a hand snagged his arm and another clamped over his mouth. Frantic, he bit down hard and kicked the guard in the knee. He bellowed in rage and Hiccup broke free again, sprinting down the hill. The Academy was still a good way away, down the hill and away from the lower village. There were fewer houses here, by the shops and barns and storehouses for the harbour. Everyone he knew-Gobber, Astrid, the other riders...even Stoick-were in the upper village. He was running away from any help-but then he was alone in any case.

He was tackled furiously and slammed onto the frozen ground, scraping his chin and palms as he skidded. He kicked out but this time a strong hand swept him up, pressed across his chest holding him with his back to his captor. The sensation of being held helpless from behind was freaking him out and he flailed and thrashed desperately. The first guard appeared, panting and rubbing his bitten hand. He faced the writhing teen for a long moment, before treating the boy to a brutal backhand. A second appalling blow followed and Hiccup felt his vision smear with red stars. Blood trickled from his mouth and nose.

"I think we may have got off on the wrong foot," he said thickly. The grasp across his chest tightened.

"You're gonna pay for that!" the first guard said, rubbing his bitten hand. Hiccup gave a scared smile.

"Hey, I was just going to the arena to go to bed with my dragon!" he protested. "I-I meant no harm..."

"But you cause it!" the second guard snarled. "You're destructive, disobedient and you always get away with it. You've destroyed half the village, boy, but the Chief never even beat you for your crimes! You try to kill him, join the Berserkers and service Dagur the Deranged and still he welcomes you back with open arms. You are a traitor, a slave and a Berserker slut!" Hiccup was writhing and shaking his head.

"Where do I start with your wrongness?" he asked without much confidence. His gut was twisting with fear but he had defaulted to his sarcastic bravado as his last line of defence when all else was lost. And Thor, was it lost. "Boy, things must be slow if you think I'm the height of danger in the village!" His legs were kicking wildly but he was hitting nothing.

"So slow that your attack on us has earned you a proper punishment, for once," the man holding him snarled and threw the boy forward, kicking him hard in the gut as he staggered, trying to find his feet. A second kick dumped him on his back and he hissed in pain as he slammed onto his welts. He rolled desperately onto his side and painfully pushed himself back to his hands and knees. He cradled his gut and stared up, hyperventilating.

"Wow, you guys really need to get out more," he murmured. The first guard snagged his hair and forced his head up.

"We don't like slaves-especially Berserker slaves!" he snarled.

"I am not a Berserker!" Hiccup protested thickly, rubbing blood from his mouth with his hand.

"You are a slave!" the first guard sneered, grabbing his tunic and hauling him up. He slammed the boy against the wall of a storehouse. Hiccup fought frantically, crushed between the guard and the wall, but he couldn't get any purchase and was suddenly trapped. His eyes widened in fear and he struggled more wildly.

"Get off me!" he gasped urgently. The man ran his hand roughly down his body and stroked his hip sensually. His fingers slid round to knead his buttocks and then slid down his inner thighs.

"There's no Daddy here to protect his useless, destructive runt of a son!" he sneered. "Instead, you have to answer like any Viking in Berk and you are out after curfew!"

"I-I thought that carried a night in the cells," Hiccup grunted, struggling. "Pretty sure this isn't in the rules!"

"WE make the rules!" the guard sneered, confirming Hiccup's worst fears. "We protect Berk. And you are a danger to us all. You've caused trouble for years. You've destroyed half the village. And now you attack two guards. You finally have to pay for your crimes!"

"Look, I was only trying to get back to sleep with my dragon!" Hiccup protested, his voice wavering in anxiety. His facade of bravado was slipping as he felt utterly trapped. Horrible images were flashing back across his vision, the face inches from his own transmuting to Dagur's sneer.

"Hear you sleep with anyone," the first guard sneered cruelly. His hands stroked the boy's bruised neck. "Feeling lonely, slave?" he taunted Hiccup. The boy was trembling now, his eyes dark with fear, his swollen lip and bleeding nose evidence of his resistance. He blinked back to horrific reality.

"I-I'm good," he mumbled. "Don't p-put yourself to any trouble." He gasped as the man's hand slid under his tunic and the rough hand dug into his skinny flesh, kneading and fondling painfully.

"You owe us for your attack!" the second guard added as his friend ground his hips against the boy's abdomen. Shivers of fear were beginning to tremble through the boy.

"I'm...I'm sorry..." he gasped, still writhing jerkily against the men's touch. "Please, I meant no harm. I-I was frightened..." He closed his eyes in misery as he felt the man grind himself harder against his body. He could feel the guard's manhood, rigid against his body and knew that he was lost. Somehow, Dagur had turned him from a young Viking to a sex toy and the Berk Guards had decided that his only place was servicing their desires. He felt his innards cringe. He had been raped by Dagur and Savage: yet having his own villagers attack him was even worse.

The man's hand was stroking against his neck and face now and he tried to turn his face away, tears sliding from the corners of his eyes. The guard dragged him further behind the storehouse and slammed the boy to the frozen ground. His friend followed him, looking out for anyone who could interrupt them and waiting for his turn. No one was likely to interrupt them. But Hiccup was writhing in silence, his face locked in fear.

"I'll go first, boy," the first guard said, pressing himself over the frantically struggling boy. He thrashed as hard as he could but his limbs were pinned and the man was crushing him with his body. He felt his tunic dragged up, revealing his bruised and battered body. The man was hauling down his leggings and silent sobs began to shudder through him. He didn't cry out because there was no one to come. The village's protectors were the ones who were going to abuse him.

"Anyone there?" a gruff voice called. Instantly, a hand was slammed over Hiccup's mouth and the man lying on him went still. They were deep in the shadows and not visible from the main path. The man's colleague turned to the approaching stranger and Hiccup froze, closing his eyes. It was his father-the last person he wanted to find him in such a demeaning position. The second guard turned to his Chief with a smile and saluted.

"Nils and Gunther, sir," he said smartly. "Gunther is...er..on his break, if you catch my meaning!" The Chief gave a curt nod, hearing two sets of breathing. It wasn't an unusual situation.

"Keep your eyes peeled," he said gruffly. "I thought I saw someone running through the lower village. And I'm not sure Dagur will stay away for very long. He's planning something!" Hiccup stiffened at the mention of the name and the man lying over him, Gunther, pressed harder over his mouth. He tried to swallow but his throat was bone dry with fear. Thor only knew what kind of beating Hiccup was going to get after they raped him for his bad luck in running into these two.

"Will do, sir," Nils said efficiently. Stoick nodded to him and gave a slight smile.

"Remind Gunther that his break can't last too long!" he said and stomped off. Hiccup felt his spirits plummet: though he felt he would have died to have his dad see him in a such a compromised position, the arrival of anyone had been his last chance to avoid being assaulted. Then he felt his leggings dragged right down and he was manhandled into his face. Giving a final, desperate struggle, he felt himself pressed down into the frozen ground and his legs forced apart as he clamped his jaws shut against the inevitable pain.

"Okay, slave, maybe this is the way you can earn your keep!" Gunther hissed into his ear as he peeled down his breeches. Hiccup tensed, praying as he felt the man press his naked flesh against him.

"Get up!" Stoick growled, rounding the corner and standing over the man. He glanced up and then his face twisted in shock, instantly scrambling to his feet and rearranging his clothing. There was a long awkward silence. "Get back on patrol. NOW!" The men left rapidly and the Chief stared down at the half-naked, shivering shape that slowly curled up into a foetal ball, shaking so hard he could barely clutch his arms across his face. He heard sobbing breaths and took a single step towards the boy.

"S...Hiccup?" he asked gently. He dropped to one knee to inspect the boy and after a couple of very long, shuddering breaths, Hiccup lowered his trembling arms.

"It-it w-was m-my f-fault," he said in a shuddering voice, refusing to make eye contact. "I-I was out after curfew. They-they were just..." He stopped and covered his face with his shaking arms. "They d-don't want me here..." His voice was a tiny whisper, a weary protest against the cruelty he had experienced.

"Do you have somewhere warm to stay?" he asked softly. He shivered harder.

"T-toothless," he breathed. Stoick reached towards him, his heart filled with pity for the boy.

"Let me help you," he said as the boy curled up tighter. "Hiccup, you'll freeze here on the ground!" The boy blinked painfully and slowly reassembled his clothing. Very slowly, he pressed his hands to the ground and levered himself to his knees.

"I-I'll m-manage, s-sir..." he whimpered. Stoick saw blood on his face and extended his hand.

"You need a hand," he said and the boy flinched. "I know you have been hurt by me, Hiccup. I know you can't trust me. I can see that those guards were going to treat you very badly. But a Chief helps all his people and you are a Viking of Berk, Hiccup. I will see you safely back to your dragon." Hiccup blinked hard and cuffed tears from his face. His heart ached for the boy, and he held his hand out more obviously. With a shuddering breath, the boy pressed his cold hand onto his father's huge paw. Stoick helped lift the boy up to his feet and as soon as he was on his feet, he snatched his hand away.

"Th-thank you, sir," Hiccup said anxiously, his voice still shuddering. The Chief glanced at the small, bowed shape and saw the boy rest a hand on his midriff. He was trembling hard.

"Let's get you to Toothless," Stoick said.