Six.

Hiccup awoke with a whimper, curled in the little cold cell. They hadn't bound him this time but he guessed that didn't matter because he doubted he could move anyway. His throat tightened in agony and he felt hot tears roll down his battered cheeks. His hands closed into fists and he pressed them to his face as shudders agonisingly jolted through him. His back was burning, so painful he scarcely dared to breathe and his arms felt bruised and stiff.

Sobs tore through him and he was struggling to breathe through his thickened throat. Fresh tears coursed down his face and he curled up tighter, into a little huddle. He had never felt such despair or misery. Dagur would never let him go, never let him escape. He would never see Toothless again.

The sounds of a step on the floor had him stiffening in fear but he buried his face in his hands: he didn't want to see whatever was coming. Then he froze as a foot nudged his side.

"Oh dear, you are looking a mess, 'Iccup," Mildew said conversationally as he inspected the curled up boy. "You really are a stupid boy!" Hiccup only began breathing again when the old man took his foot away.

"Go 'way," Hiccup murmured thickly.

"Oh, that 'urts me," Mildew said mildly. "When all I'm trying to do is 'elp yer." He tapped Hiccup's side with his staff and the boy flinched visibly. "On yer feet, boy! Rest time's over!" Hiccup's bowed head moved, his unkempt auburn hair moving to reveal the wary green gaze, the long lashes still beaded with tears. The boy's face was ashen and he looked frightened. Slowly, he moved his hands and achingly shoved himself to his knees-and then he froze, his eyes suddenly wide with terror as the old man deliberately rested his staff across the boy's back. Mildew watched his breathing rapidly accelerate and he almost seemed on the verge of panic.

"Please," he whispered, shaking his head. He closed his eyes and tears splashed onto the ground.

"You're a disgrace as a Viking!" Mildew spat in disgust. "I'd be doin' yer a favour if I beat that out of you!" Hiccup cringed, his shoulders shuddering jerkily as soft sobs sounded in the cell.

"No..." he breathed. Mildew lifted the staff and almost-almost-brought it down on the scrawny shape and then he sighed. He would have really liked to give the defiant and irritating boy a good hiding but he could see the boy was already badly beaten and Savage had given his orders. So he satisfied himself by slamming the staff onto the ground immediately by the boy's body and he was rewarded by a spectacular flinch as the boy cringed away in terror. Mildew swallowed his exasperation then snatched a huge handful of the boy's hair and wrenched him to his feet.

"Get up!" Mildew sneered. He was mildly fascinated at how brave the boy was being, how obviously frightened he was and how small and vulnerable he looked without his dragon. Hiccup painfully limped towards the door and the old man followed, his staff ready. But he grabbed the boy's arm as they entered to passage and he pulled him to one side. A bowl of water, a smoked fish and some dry black bread were waiting. Hiccup glanced up warily.

"We ain't going to get any work from yer if yer starving," Mildew told him in a mocking voice. "I can take it away if yer want..." The boy literally snatched at the bread, sinking his teeth into the dry hunk ravenously and the old man realised that he hadn't been fed since he arrived on the island. Hiccup was small and scrawny usually but now he looked thin and gaunt, his shoulders hunched with fear and pain. He finished the breakfast rapidly, wiping his mouth with a dirty cuff.

"Th-thanks," he murmured. Mildew ignored him.

"I'm doin' this because my Chief ordered me to," he said stiffly. Hiccup cast him a jaded glance.

"Never managed that back on Berk," he shot back and flinched as the man's staff jerked. He swallowed anxiously but Mildew satisfied himself with a scowl.

"I'm an Outcast now and I respect my leader," he announced gruffly.

"Savage?" Hiccup laughed, his expression frankly disbelieving. Somehow, talking with Mildew-even though he hated the mean old man-was a lot less threatening than dealing with anyone else on Outcast Island. Not that he could deal with anyone else. The rest of them just meant him harm.

"I doubt even Savage respects Savage!" Mildew did hit him then, a heavy cuff on the back of the head that sent him stumbling and nearly dumped him on his face.

"Watch yer mouth, boy, before it gets yer in real trouble!" Mildew snapped. Hiccup rubbed the back of his head and staggered up a slope and up to a barred gate.

"Yeah, kinda figured that already," he sighed and then found himself shoved out. He was in a yard, under the cold and drizzly grey skies, piles of wood, rubbish and dung strewn over the expanse. He stopped and Mildew had to shove him on again. Hiccup turned to look at him.

"What-what's going on, Mildew?" he asked in a quiet voice. There were Outcast guards stationed around the perimeter and he was beginning to feel fear stir in the pit of his stomach. He wished he hadn't eaten the smoked fish now.

"Yer being put to work, 'iccup," the old man told him. "Savage doesn't want you having the energy for any more escape attempts and he reckons you should start pulling yer weight and paying for the generous 'ospitality yer getting 'ere." Hiccup stared at the yard.

"So-so what exactly am I supposed to do?" he asked faintly.

"Clear the rubbish, chop the wood and bag and move the yak dung...for starters," a heavyset Outcast growled. "And look lively. We've other chores you can do once you're done here." Hiccup swallowed the lump that had suddenly thickened his throat. Even without his recent treatment, he couldn't have managed all that work. He glanced briefly at Mildew and the old man gave a nasty grin.

"A real Viking could do this all by lunch," he told the boy. Hiccup sagged.

"Oh, come on!" he protested. "I think we all know where I fit in the scale of real Vikings!" Mildew gave a nastier grin.

"If you don't complete the jobs by nightfall, Savage will have you whipped again," he said sternly and was rewarded by the boy's face locking in a grimace of terror. He really did fear being whipped. "But I think there may be a coupla ways yer can avoid that..." Hiccup looked up hopefully.

"Such as..?" he asked faintly.

"Yer can help Dagur invade Berk and hand over yer dragon, boy. You knows it's the only way!" Mildew told him snidely. Hiccup shook his head.

"Never gonna happen," he breathed, hunching his shoulders.

"You could do the work of three grown men in one day," Mildew suggested.

"Anything else?" The words were hopeless now: he knew Mildew was taunting him.

"You see that big guard, the man in charge?" Mildew offered, indicating to the man with his staff. Hiccup nodded. "If yer very lucky, he'll decide to speak up for yer and stop Savage beating you." The boy's brow furrowed with suspicion.

"And why-why would he do that?" he stammered warily. Mildew smiled.

"If he likes what you do for 'im, boy!" he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "He likes them young and you should be just up his street, so to speak..." Hiccup's throat tightened and he tasted vomit in the back of his throat. He was really regretting the fish now. Betraying Berk and Toothless, allowing the Outcast guard to rape him or attempting a hopeless task. He shrugged.

"Looks like it's the work of three grown men, then," he sighed and limped across to the wood pile.

Mildew was mildly impressed at the boy's determination as he toiled throughout the day. Hiccup was small and he was clumsy but he made up for his lack of size and strength with sheer bone-headedness. The old man could see he was really suffering, his back held curiously straight in a vain attempt to minimise the pain from his welts. He managed to chop the wood by lunch and Mildew watched the sweating boy chew the bread provided, absently rubbing his painful stump. His prosthesis was chafing and he hadn't been able to tend the tender area for days. The guards were snide and Mildew could sense boredom building during the afternoon as the boy began to shift the yak dung. They tended to encourage the boy with verbal threats and the occasional clip around the ear and Mildew saw him have to steady himself and bravely carry on after each rough blow.

The old man tuned into the chatter and he felt his heart sink a little. It was pretty obvious that the lad wouldn't complete his task though he had exceeded Mildew's expectations already with his determination and stamina. And the guards were already guessing how long it would take for the big guard to make his move. There was wagering going on but Mildew had heard another rumour: Dagur wanted the boy as well. The old man was smart enough to back the insane Berserker and he knew Dagur would be enraged if anything spoiled his fun. Hiccup was his special project.

The light was starting to fade as Hiccup wearily laid his shovel aside and dragged the sack of dung neatly by the others. He was barely able to think from weariness and every muscle in his body was screaming protests at him. He sighed and rubbed his shoulder before slowly limping back to the pile. For an island with no grass, little vegetation and almost no water, there was an awful lot of yak dung. The big Outcast Guard was standing, glaring at him.

"You're not going to finish!" he accused the boy. Hiccup tried not to wince, tried not to betray his sudden sickening apprehension but the guard gave a leer that showed he had failed dismally.

"There's still time," he begged, reaching for the shovel. The guard caught his wrist painfully tightly and jerked the boy forward.

"Less than an hour," he said roughly. "Not enough to finish-but enough time to do what needs to be done!" For a long second, Hiccup went absolutely rigid, his eyes wide with fear and disgust. Then he wrenched at the grip with all his might.

"Let me go!" he shouted desperately. "I need to get this done..."

"You need to do as you're told, boy, and I will save you the whipping," the guard told him coldly. There was something repellant in his frosty gaze: something, he now realised with terrifying clarity, that was familiar from Dagur. Hiccup shook his head, twisting his wrist frantically against the grasp.

"Please...no..." he begged, to the laughter of the other guards.

"Boy sounds a bit too fussy for you, Jori!"

"That spirit needs breaking-feel up to the job?"

"He look pretty skinny-do you think you'll get in?"

"Yeah-you may be too big for him!"

"Please..." he whimpered, shaking his head desperately as he was hauled bodily across the stones towards the little shelter for the guards. His prosthesis scraped loudly in the yard to the sounds of raucous laughter. His pleading cries were thickening into sobs of fear and Mildew shoved himself to his feet. He didn't care about Hiccup, though he did have good money on Dagur getting the boy but there was something in the pitiful cries that made it him stride across to the boy.

"I 'ope you enjoy it," he said snidely. "A fresh boy, struggling against you, begging yer not to 'urt 'im...must make you feel like a big man. Must really be great fun..." The Outcasts paused and through his terror, Hiccup realised that Mildew was scarcely more popular with the Outcasts than he had been on Berk.

"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously. He stopped dragging Hiccup but the boy was still tightly trapped. He froze, not even daring to breathe.

"Only...Dagur was really wanting to do the boy 'imself," Mildew said thoughtfully. "Probably in front of the village...or so the rumour goes. Never mind. I'm sure he'll understand you needed to 'ave him first. He's known for 'is generosity..." The Outcast frowned: that didn't sound at all like Dagur. In fact, the last man who had interrupted his fun had briefly inspected his own guts before being pitched into the ocean.

"Are you serious?" the Outcast asked him suspiciously. "You've been here all day watching him. How'm I sure you don't want him for yourself?" Mildew gave an especially unpleasant scowl.

"I've buried three wives," he told the man shortly. "Boy ain't my flavour!" He stared grimly at Hiccup. "But 'e is Dagur's, if yer take my meaning..." The Outcast released Hiccup and the boy almost collapsed to his knees in relief. His wrist was scarlet from the ferocious grip.

"Sun's setting," the Outcast snarled, kicked at the boy and made him yelp in pain. "He's failed."

"Then I'll take 'im to Savage," Mildew said and grabbed Hiccup's arm. "Up, boy. Can't keep your Chief waiting!"

"He's not my Chief," Hiccup mumbled tonelessly. Mildew immediately slammed a vicious blow into his body with his staff and watched him fly to the ground with a low groan. He followed it up with a second and third blow that had the boy curled on his side, protecting his head.

"Mind yer tongue, boy, or Savage'll rip it out!" he shouted. The boy flinched and said nothing. So Mildew wrenched him up by the tunic and shoved him out of the yard before any of the Outcasts could join in. Once in the passage he stopped and let the boy catch his breath. Hiccup was hunched up, his head down and staring ferociously at the floor. His breathing was ragged.

"Don't get me wrong, boy!" Mildew told him brusquely. "I've got money on Dagur 'aving yer-that's all!" Hiccup said nothing and the old man was shocked to see him trembling so hard his prosthesis was clicking slightly. His nostrils flared and Mildew wondered if he would start weeping again but it was clear the boy was too shocked and terrified to cry. He was hyperventilating and his face was white.

"Thank you," he whispered. Mildew sighed. For a moment, the boy looked utterly cowed.

"'E was right about one thing," he told Hiccup. "Yer ain't finished. Savage is going to beat yer." Slowly, warily, Hiccup raised his face slightly.

"You-you know," he said faintly, the vaguest hint of defiance entering his wavering voice, "a-after what-what almost h-happened, I-I-I think a whipping...would be preferable."

oOo

Savage didn't whip him. But he screamed a torrent of abuse at the boy, knocked him to the ground a handful of times and then sent him back out to complete the yard.

The Outcast guards were angry because they were sent as well to watch and encourage him. Mildew settled comfortably at one side, a warm cloak draped around him, his staff resting against his shoulder and watched the show. He guessed that Savage and Dagur had looked in on the boy during the day and had decided that the best way to break his spirit was to break all parts of him-his stamina, his courage, his hide. The guards were much freer with their whips and the boy suffered far more as the temperature dropped and his panting breaths clouded around him. It was long after midnight and the thin sliver of a moon was cold and pale as the task was done.

The lead guard grabbed the boy by his hair as he shoved him across the yard towards the door and the waiting Mildew.

"Don't think this is over, traitor!" he hissed, his foul breath almost making Hiccup gag. "When Dagur's had his fun with you, I'll be here, waiting to make you scream!" Hiccup shuddered and then was handed over to the old man. Mildew wordlessly dragged the boy back to his cell and tossed brutally in. He landed on his side and bowed his head to the floor.

Mildew turned away after he had shut the door but even he couldn't miss the sobbing breaths that echoed in the darkness or the single pleading word:

"Toothless."

oOo

The Night Fury wouldn't come out of his cage for anyone but Astrid and he barely ate, even the choicest fillets of cod and salmon. He just whined and howled and stared desolately towards Outcast Island.

Astrid watched him worriedly. She had asked Stoick if she could fly him and he had reluctantly acquiesced, asking Gobber to hand over the saddle and tail. But though the old blacksmith had helped her, Toothless had refused to let them put his saddle on. Instead, the had curled up by the saddle, whimpering and gently sniffing it. His wide green eyes were utterly miserable and Astrid feared that without Hiccup, he would pine away and die.