Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 1/?afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:16:46 UTC
They were given water again that evening, for which Hiccup was more grateful than he allowed to show on his face. Although he glanced at Heather, she waved for him to drink his own ration, and his throat itched when he had to hand back the cup. Even better - or at least closer to tolerable - was that they were given food, dried fish that could be used to hammer in nails and cheese that had clearly seen better days. Apparently the Outcast idea of a sense of humour was to also give Hiccup a raw onion, which he picked up from the floor with a sigh.
“If I’d known this was coming,” he said, rapping the fish with his knuckles and hoping that his teeth would be able to stand it, “I would have kept the water and dipped this into it.”
Heather had already managed to get through the skin of the fish with her teeth, and was now using her fingers to peel it back in sections. “Honestly? It starts seeming bearable after a few days.” She flattened a piece between her fingers, condensing it to something solid rather than thin flakes, and put it in her mouth. “What’s with the onion, anyway?”
“Alvin’s idea of an inside joke.” All the same, he tucked it into his lap before the damp of the ground seeped into it. Deciding that the fish looked like more of a challenge than the cheese, he followed Heather’s example and tackled it first. “What I would not give,” he added, between wrenching his way in, “for a change of clothes.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Sorry,” he said. He had at least been able to get cleaned up before they had started the second leg of their journey to Frigg’s Hearth - it felt so long ago now, just just three days or so. Heather had been dealing with this for longer.
Again, she shrugged. “At least this way I don’t have to worry about anyone peering in. Noticed a significant shortage of women when I was captured,” she added, slightly more bitterly.
“More likely to head for an island other than this one, I think,” Hiccup said, something of a stab in the dark but honestly his best bet. “Or the Bog Burglars - they don’t care much about some crimes that can get you exiled from other islands. Not everywhere seems to be as equal in bull-headed stupidity as Berk, either.”
Heather smiled, shaking her head. There was something almost fond about it, but Hiccup suspected that had a lot more to do with being the first person she had spoken to in a while who was not an Outcast. “You know, I’ve never visited Berk,” she said. “Nor - what’s the name of that city at the other end of the island? Arran?”
“Arendelle.”
She nodded. “That one. Two, three years ago, my family spent some time sailing between the more southerly kingdoms. Visited quite a few, actually. Learnt some new songs, some new curses. But not Arendelle.”
“Two years ago was when the King and Queen were lost,” said Hiccup, more quietly.
Heather’s smile faded. “It was,” she said. “You’re right. We were in the Southern Isles when we heard, changed our course and went further east instead. Then ended up going north for a couple of years. Never made it to Berk in the end.”
Soon, thought Hiccup, but did not dare say it aloud. Even if Alvin would doubtless be counting on Hiccup to be trying something, he did not yet know himself quite what it was, and did not know how good Heather’s acting could be either. Better if whatever she did was natural, and not faked. “Well, you aren’t missing too much. Sheep, rain, a fine and varied history of dragon attacks, and a past which has unfortunately been rather too entwined with that of Outcast Island itself.” He shot a glance towards the door, even if there was probably nobody listening.
“After so many islands, I am something of a connoisseur of rain,” said Heather, with just a ghost of a tease to her voice.
Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 2/?afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:17:15 UTC
Hiccup thought of the vast vocabulary on the subject which Berk had to draw upon. “Yeah,” he said, and it came out more homesick than he had meant it too. “So are we.”
Heather assured him that there had been no two nights in a row that there had been dragon attacks, at least since she had been held here. It seemed she was right; although it rained during the night, it was not much more than drizzle and did not run across the floor, and there were no dragons to be heard. He dozed again, in that place that was not deep enough to be restful but deep enough to let his mind slow to a crawl, to slowly creep around pieces of knowledge that were too vague to come to him while he was awake, but were somehow clearer in that half-asleep state.
It was the opening of the door that truly woke him, more than the faint light; the sky outside must have been heavy and dark with clouds. He hurried to put his foot back on as Alvin and one of his gaolers - a glance confirmed that it was Swordripper again - entered the room, and Swordripper took the water over to Elsa first, just as had been done the day before. There was less of a hesitation this time before she took it from his hand.
“So,” said Alvin, walking over towards Hiccup’s cell, “I hope you’re ready to continue your work.”
“Yes, and I’m sure that watching it is just riveting,” said Hiccup. He probably could have stood up even with his hands bound, but frankly did not really want to right at that moment. “You know, it would go quicker if you allowed Elsa to assist me.”
Alvin scoffed. “You know I’m no fool, don’t go saying things like that. I’m not letting you and her both out there.”
“We don’t have to be working in the same cell,” said Hiccup. “You can send more of your men to work on the floors, but trust me, the dragons are going to react just as badly to them now as they did before. Men that the dragons haven’t seen?” he shrugged. “You might have a chance. But Elsa will be able to actively help. Otherwise you’re in for another long, slow day of wing washing. Probably about three more, actually, just to get the Monstrous Nightmare checked over. And you need to be moving quicker if you want to get them out of those pens before muscle wastage sets in.”
He could have held his breath, waiting for the answer, but kept as film and confident as he could. It was not just Alvin who would need those dragons out quickly if they were going to be useful. Swordripper came over with his water and cup, but even Heather was watching cautiously; Hiccup wondered how much she was putting together of what Hiccup was doing in the cells.
“Give me the keys,” said Alvin to Swordripper, and Hiccup held back from feeling triumphant. Relieved would do. “Very well then, Hiccup,” he said, voice slowly rising as he walked back over to Elsa’s pen, the better to fill the distance. “I can’t spare any more of my men right now, but you’re in luck; you’ll have a pupil all the same.”
If he thought that Elsa knew that much less than Hiccup, he was wrong, but Hiccup did not say anything. Alvin paused opposite the tunnel out of the cells; and whistled down it; Hiccup frowned as a third man came to join them. Did Alvin think that it would take two people just to restrain Elsa? He passed the first cup of water to Heather, and offered her the second, but she shook her head even if her eyes weren’t so convinced. He drank half of his cup, and gave her the rest; he could see the gratitude in her eyes again as she gulped it down.
Alvin led Elsa out with a hand between her shoulders, and her eyes strayed from Hiccup’s cell to something out of the line of his sight, a frown crossing her features. They stopped in the middle of the cell, and Alvin threw the keys to the man entering and nodded to Hiccup’s cell.
Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 3/?afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:17:42 UTC
He had to say one thing for Alvin: the communication on Outcast Island was certainly efficient. Hiccup refused to let show how much his legs shook when he was pulled to his feet again, the fish and cheese of the previous evening not doing anywhere near enough. He had found a nook in the wall in which to tuck the onion away, but was fast coming to consider it a viable dinner option. He rolled away the stiffness in his wrists as Swordripper took the keys and went to close the door again, only for Alvin to speak up.
“No,” he said. “Her as well.”
“What?” said Heather. Hiccup could not blame her for either the surprise or the fear in her tone, considering that she did not know quite what was going on, but that it involved dragons. She tried to hold her hands away as Swordripper stepped into the cell and grabbed at her, and planted a determined kick on his knee. His leg almost buckled beneath him, but he grabbed the manacles and used them to drag her sharply sideways, almost pulling her over, before unlocking them.
“Hey!” said Hiccup. “There’s no need for that!”
“She wants to fight, she gets to fight,” said Alvin, in an infuriatingly reasonable tone of voice. Swordripper took hold of Heather’s arm and pulled her to her feet, even as her legs gave way and she had to catch herself on the wall. “Come on, I’m sure after all that time in that cell you’re just itching for a stretch.”
Heather glared at him from beneath her hair, and dragged herself upright with pain flickering visibly in her tight lips and winces. But she made it to upright, just as Swordripper took the opportunity to shove her in Hiccup’s direction.
It was only a couple of steps, but she stumbled, and Hiccup dodged in to catch her more from instinct than clear thought. She hissed angrily, fingers digging into Hiccup’s arms, but allowed herself to be helped upright and gave him a nod that he knew was still one of thanks.
“It’ll be all right,” said Hiccup quietly, as he released her arms. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Don’t worry, girl,” said Alvin. “You’ve been honoured! Wasn’t so keen on teaching us what he knows, were you, Hiccup? Now, get moving, all of you, and if I hear a word of Arendellen in front of those dragons you’ll all be working with gags on.”
Hiccup slowed his pace when he realised that Heather’s steps were still a little faltering, and put on a slight limp as a way of explaining it. It was harder to argue with a prosthetic foot, after all, and doubtless Outcast Island had more than enough of them to speak to that. He did not dare look over his shoulder, however, and had to trust that they were both still behind him as he led them directly down the tunnel to where the dragons were being held.
The air still made his head reel, made bile rise in his throat, but it was not as bad as it had been the day before and he only hesitated for a step before continuing. He heard Elsa’s sharp gasp, but before he could turn Alvin snapped at them to keep going, and given the circumstances he did not have much choice but to obey.
Just inside the room he stopped, and turned to them both. Elsa looked even paler than usual, almost ashen, and fear flickered in Heather’s eyes as she looked around. There was a muted, strangled roar from one of the Gronckles, and Heather jumped, almost darting backwards before the man who had joined Alvin stepped into her way. She bounced off him.
“It’s all right,” said Hiccup. “They’re just angry because they’ve been chained up.”
“They?” said Heather.
Hiccup looked at Alvin, expecting him to take over at this point, but Alvin just looked amused with the whole thing and nodded for Hiccup to explain. “The dragons,” said Hiccup, finally. “There are seven of them, one to a pen,” he nodded down along the line. “Alvin wants me to show them how to work with the dragons.” Unable to help himself, he gave Alvin a venomous look. “I’m not sure how much they’re actually learning.”
Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 4/?afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:18:15 UTC
“Berk has dragons,” said Hiccup. It was the first time that he had said it, willingly, to someone from outside Berk. For a moment, it did not seem to sink in, then Heather’s eyes went wide and she drew away from Hiccup, swaying back in place as if suddenly seeming someone else standing in his place. “They are part of us; we are part of them. I learnt that, and told people. For now, all that I’m doing with these dragons is trying to get them clean, and start to get them healthy. They’re not in good shape.” Even Alvin could not contradict him over that. “If you’re willing to help me,” he heard Alvin huff, about to tell him off again, and continued more quickly and more forcefully, “then all I will ask for now is for you to help clean the pens. You don’t have to interact with the dragons. Have you ever been near one before?”
She shook her head, with a breath that sound almost like a fast, fluttering laugh. “No. My family avoids them.”
“Probably not a bad idea,” he said, hoping that his smile looked genuine. It was meant to be, beneath the tiredness. “But it’ll be all right. They won’t hurt you.”
“You can stop them?” said Heather.
“They don’t want to.”
Although she still looked uncertain, the fear in her eyes softened at his words, and she shifted back to a more neutral stance in front of him. Hiccup could not help wondering whether his lips felt more dry from nervousness or from thirst.
“Will you let me show you?” he said, extending a hand.
He did not in the slightest bit blame Heather for looking at his hand as if it, as well, might suddenly sprout fangs and prove itself capable of biting. But she did, finally, place her hand into his, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. Only then did he look round to Alvin.
“I know what this means for you, as well,” said Hiccup. “Seeing how you should greet a dragon for the first time.”
“Indeed,” said Alvin.
“So I want information for it.”
It was bold, and probably foolish, and he knew it. But even besides his own anger, and his own desire to defy Alvin that he was quashing for the sake of the dragons, he knew that if he went along with everything too easily that Alvin would get suspicious.
“I’ll let you ask yer questions.”
No guarantee of answers, but it was a start. “One question,” said Hiccup, holding up a finger for emphasis, “and then I show Heather how to greet a Nadder, and you see as well.” He took a deep breath, and made firm his decision. “The buckle. Where did you get it?”
His heart pounded in his chest. Heather frowned at him, but he only saw it out of the corner of his eye, could not look round to her. Could not have explained to a stranger, even one that he was having to trust so intimately as her. Instead he held Alvin’s gaze, until the Outcast gave an astonished bark of laughter.
“That’s it?” he said. “I give you a free question, and you ask about the buckle?” He laughed again, harder this time, shaking his head. Hiccup felt his throat tighten and the anger and humiliation welling in him again, but tamped them down. He had to know. “Well, that I shall answer.” Alvin’s eyes met Hiccup’s again, and there was a cruel pleasure there, pride. “We made it right ‘ere. Half of Berk would have recognised that buckle, your mother were so proud of it. Wore it even when you were in her belly.” He pointed at Hiccup, but it was less a jab and more of a lazy, vague recognition. “Course, it was after my time she was lost, so I had to ask some Berkians proper-”
“MIldew,” said HIccup, without meaning to, and it came out like a curse.
Alvin shrugged. “Mildew, your man from last year, what was that name;” he snapped his fingers; “Lugstick? Something like that. Even your friend Johann would at least have known whether he’d seen it the last fourteen years. So don’t you mind where I checked,” he concluded, “just know that I did. And then all we had to do was mock one up again - couldn’t get the eyes quite right, the gems were tat,” he waved a hand. “But it was good enough. And then all we had to do was put a boat on the currents that would lead to Berk. I imagine you must have got there first, to get your ‘ands on it.”
Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 5/?afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:19:06 UTC
It was as if there was not the right shaped space for the words in his head. Of all the things he had been expecting, hoping for or fearing in equal measure, it was not that. Hiccup stared, all words lost, as an aching hollow pain started to spread to him.
He had been wrong, even more wrong than he had realised. And now there was not even knowledge of his mother for him to take home.
“Hiccup…” said Elsa, softly. He could not even turn his eyes to look at her. All the years that he had grown up knowing that his mother was gone, and for one ridiculous weak moment he had thought that somehow he could rewrite the story. Change it all. What could he expect but to fail?
“There’s your information,” said Alvin, the words like weights slamming down. “Now do your part. Get to work.”
He moved woodenly, as if all of the stiffness of the night had struck him at once. Alvin gestured for the one Outcast with them to unlock the door to the pen of the first Nadder, who looked up with wary, defensive eyes as Hiccup led Heather near.
“You’ve got no weapons,” he said to her, “so you’re no threat. They know that.” It was not the iron or steel itself that they reacted to, either; it had to be the blood, that was all that Hiccup could see for an explanation. “Stay calm - I know,” he added quickly, “it’s easier said than done. But it really does help. Not, we approach from right in front.”
He stepped behind her, and she looked alarmed for a moment as took hold of her left hand in his, then paused.
“Wait, sorry, which hand to you use? For writing.”
“The right,” said Heather, with a vague gesture that he suspected was largely from nerves. Hiccup gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and stepped to be at her right shoulder instead, reaching round to bring her hand up and facing outwards.
“All right, then. So, with him;” a nod to the Nadder; “we’re going to approach from straight ahead.”
The smile was hollow behind, he knew that much, and it faded as soon as Heather was facing away from him and towards the dragon again. He did not dare look round, knowing that anger or despair or something in between would come rushing back if he looked upon Alvin again. He had to concentrate on the dragon; for all that he had downplayed the danger, there always was one with so large and powerful a creature, and Heather needed and deserved his focus.
“I’m right behind you,” he said. “Step up into the blindspot; there we go.” They stood right before the dragon’s nose, closer than Heather would have preferred to judge by the tension in her shoulders. But the blindspot was not large anyway, and with the lingering smell they would need to be closer to. “Let him smell you. Their sense of smell is a lot stronger than ours.”
“Doubt I smell that good right now,” said Heather.
“Dragons have different standards.”
It was meant to be a joke, but he heard how flat it was. All that he could hear was Alvin’s words in his head, over and over, We made it right here. A second treachery.
“As he finishes his sniffing,” he continued, as the Nadder seemed to start to lose interest, chin dropping again, “take the same hand, and reach round just…” he guided her hand to the spot just behind the Nadder’s jaw. “Here. Scratch gently, don’t let your nails snag on the scales there. That way it doesn’t hurt.”
From where he was standing, he could just see Heather’s expression, the tightness in her eyes and the press of her lips, the nerves relaxing into surprise as the Nadder leant into her hand with a soft rumble that could not in anyone’s mind seem aggressive. Hiccup slowly drew his hand away, leaving just Heather touching the Nadder, and saw the softening of her expression as the dragon leant into her, the creature itself visible beneath the shackles and the stories of fear.
“There we go,” he said softly. It helped, at least a little, to see something coming of this. He stepped back, and Heather did not even seem to notice, her left hand coming to rest cautiously on the Nadder’s jaw and automatically falling away from both the muzzle and the signs of injury.
Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 6/?afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:19:56 UTC
It was almost too much, everything swirling in his tiredness-dulled head at once, but he heard the sound of shifting metal and leather and knew that it was Alvin. Probably growing impatient. Swallowing back everything that he did not have time to feel, Hiccup put his hand on Heather’s arm again.
“There,” he said. “He won’t growl at you now, or anything of that sort. You should be able to clean in here easily enough.”
“Thank you,” said Heather, turning back to him in the middle of saying it so that he was not even sure who it was more meant for. She dropped her hands away from the dragon in a way that Hiccup was tempted to call reluctant, and followed Hiccup back out of the cell to retrieve the shovel and barrow that Alvin nodded her towards.
Elsa went to pick up the other shovel, but stopped dead as Alvin’s hand came to rest heavily on her shoulder. Hiccup saw the flash of anger in her eyes, the way that her fists clenched, but then she flinched bodily and her hands spasmed open again. Her magic, Hiccup could only assume. He strode towards her, ignoring Alvin’s glare until the other Outcast grabbed him by the upper arm and hauled him backwards so hard that he thought for a moment his shoulder would be dragged from its socket. A hiss escaped him as he was dragged back.
“No,” said Alvin, calmly, as if nothing was amiss still. Hiccup glared at him; Elsa seemed to be refusing to turn around. “Different pens. And this time,” he squeezed Elsa’s shoulder, “she can go in by herself.”
“Alvin, I’m the one that-”
“You’ve said your father has a dragon. Looks like she doesn’t, or she wouldn’t’ve been flying with you,” said Alvin, voice sharper, “but I’m willing to wager she knows a little bit about dragons herself.”
“It’s not you doing the wagering.”
“All the better for me, then.” Alvin finally removed his hand, and waved to the pens. “Tell you what, I’ll even let you take your pick.”
Elsa had not even seen the other dragons, but Hiccup did not even have to ask in order to know that Alvin was quite aware of that. He had a suspicion that was part of what Alvin was testing, waiting to see how Elsa would respond. For the first moment, she did nothing, simply kept her eyes on Hiccup.
There was nothing else that he could do; he nodded minutely, and saw her shoulders sink as she realised that he did not quite know what he was doing either.
She had already seen the first Gronckle, and the first Nadder, but now she turned to continue along the line. Hiccup had no doubt that it was largely to see what dragons there were, and what state they were in, rather than to ‘pick’ one. She walked past the Nightmare, hesitated at the sight of Toothless, and seemed to draw herself on reluctantly. It would not take a genius to know that Alvin would not let anyone in with Toothless unless it was an absolute necessity.
Outside the cell of the dragon he could not name, she slowed, and he expected confusion to cross her face but instead she was staring, transfixed. There was a low dragon growl, and just by not recognising the species Hiccup knew that it had to be the dragon she was looking at. It all seemed to happen in a moment; Elsa’s eyes went wide, she shied back a pace, then her hands clutched to her chest and she fell forwards, barely catching herself on the ground as she went to her knees.
It was probably only the suddenness which meant that Hiccup was able to pull himself free from the man holding him and bolt to Elsa’s side. He skidded to his knees beside her on the rock, ignoring the grating pain, and put an arm around her shoulders without thinking. Her back was icy beneath his touch, her breathing ragged and hissed, and when Hiccup looked up at the dragon he felt the wave of anger and pain worse than the day before, so intense that it seemed to cloud his vision red.
He looked back to Elsa again, clinging to thoughts of her. The anger pressed around him like a cloak until he wanted to scream, wanted to feel a weapon in his hands or let his hands be weapons, as if they were tipped with talons to slash and to kill, but he made himself focus on Elsa and the concern and love that bubbled in the centre of his chest.
Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 7/?afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:20:33 UTC
“Elsa,” he said. It seemed hard to hear beneath the pounding in his head, the rushing sound of his blood. “Elsa, listen to me. Can you hear me? Elsa?”
She shuddered, and he was not even sure it was a response. He pulled her to his chest as best he could, ignoring the stinging cold where she pressed against him, and pressed his forehead to her hair. The fury - the dragon’s fury, it had to be - swelled and raged against him, but through it he felt the first tendril of curiosity, uncertainty, as Hiccup held Elsa closely.
It was hard to think, as if most of his mind was taken up with another being’s rage. He clung to Elsa, remembered how it had felt when they had first been able to talk, to really talk; the day she had come to the village and braved everything to get him out of the jail cell; her expressed, bewildered, happy, at the Thawfest Games; the moment she and Anna had been dragged soaking from the Bay of Arendelle and she had looked as if the world had become a dream. Every moment he had seen over the last year, he bundled up and held on tightly to, and somehow he felt the anger draw back.
He dared to look up, and saw that the dragon no longer had its teeth bared, and that it’s head was slightly tilted as it regarded them. Tendrils of curiosity seemed to brush over them like actual, physical things, and Hiccup closed his eyes again and thought of Toothless, that rush whenever he chose to press his nose to Hiccup’s hand, the feeling of flying, at one with the dragon and barely separate from the sky, the warmth that came from curling beneath the Night Fury’s wing and hearing the slow pounding heartbeat through his warm flank.
The anger faded further, like an ebbing wave, and though Elsa was still shaking he could hear her breath coming more easily, and her skin grew less cold to the touch. Uncertainty, curiosity, all tinged with a gentleness that was undeniably dragon in nature, took its place, less oppressive and less intruding.
“Elsa?” said Hiccup again. This time, she looked up, tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. He could not hear movement behind them, and hoped that it meant that Alvin, the other Outcast, and Heather were still at a safe distance. “Can you hear me now?”
She nodded. “It felt like…”
The word trailed away. “Yeah,” said Hiccup. “I think that’s… what it does.” Something about the dragon, something that had this effect on people. He wondered how badly Alvin’s men had reacted; Alvin had said something about them refusing to guard it. “Are you all right?”
Elsa knelt up, drawing her hand away from her chest where it had been splayed across her ribs. Her fingers were red and blistered, some of them tinged with blue. Without thinking, Hiccup grabbed her hand, and she winced but did not even slightly pull her fingers away. He gently tapped her fingertips, right over the blisters, but they were hard to the touch.
“Can you feel that?”
“No… not really, no.”
“It’s all right,” said Hiccup. “It’s just frostbite. It’ll heal.” How Elsa, of all people, had frostbite on her fingers in a warm and stuffy room, he did not much want to know. “Come on.”
He got to his feet, metal foot to the ground first, and carefully drew Elsa up as well. She closed her eyes, and he saw the flicker of anger in her pinched lips again, but this time something told him that the anger was at least her own. The dragon in the cell beside them made a gruff, grunting sound, but at least it was not another growl.
“Not that one,” he said softly.
“Not that one,” Elsa echoed.
She slipped her hands out of his, and turned away from him to walk past the other dragons, the second Nadder and the second Gronckle, and paused at the end to look for a long time at the Scauldron in its pool. By the time that she came back down the corridor, her face was schooled calm again, the tears mostly dry on her cheeks, even if both of them knew that Alvin had seen what had happened.
Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 8/?afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:21:06 UTC
As she passed Hiccup, she met his eyes just for a moment, but did not say anything. Respecting her silence, he turned back to the dragon in its cell, and wondered just what it was, and just what it was capable of. It tilted its head again within its muzzle, purple and blue rippling in thick bands across the huge fin that crowned it, and made a rattling, clattering sound.
The air felt significantly less oppressive, even if it still stank. He glanced over to see Elsa pick up the second of the shovels without acknowledging Alvin, or Heather who was still watching them with fear not entirely hidden on her face. Elsa took up the handles of the wheelbarrow without comment and crossed to the pen of the first Gronckle, setting it just outside and laying the shovel across the top. She turned, and finally looked at Alvin. Pointedly.
He turned to his companion. “Unlock it.”
Even from where he stood, Hiccup could see the calculation in Alvin’s stance, the way that he was watching everything. Elsa said nothing as the door was opening, and when she stepped into the cell she was out of Hiccup’s line of sight. But it was only a few short moments before Alvin nodded, apparently to himself.
“Right,” he said. “Then you work with that one, and you,” he pointed at Heather, “with that Nadder. I’ve got words to be having.”
Hiccup should have expected it, he knew, and steeled himself and raised his chin as Alvin made down the corridor towards him. Emotions were still fighting inside Hiccup’s gut, and in their turmoil nothing was rising close enough to the surface to break through; the look that he gave Alvin was almost dispassionate.
“So,” said Alvin, as he approached, “what just happened?”
Something that, given a choice, he would never have allowed Alvin to see. “You said yourself that the dragon affects people,” said Hiccup. “Your men won’t guard it, fine. But Elsa won’t be working with it either.”
“I doubt I need to say that my men didn’t ‘ave that happen.”
The dragon looked straight at Alvin, and hissed, showing its teeth again. Red bloomed on its skin, and Hiccup felt the swell of anger like a pressure on his skin.
“Looks like responses vary,” said Hiccup, keeping his words tight. “What about you, Alvin? Can you even begin to feel it?”
Alvin looked at him, green eyes boring against the stone of Hiccup’s anger. “Oh, I feel it. But I know what’s in my head and what ain’t. Now, I believe you was working with a dragon as well.”
Hiccup returned to the work of the previous day. He could hear the scraping of shovels on stone, two different rhythms that let him know that Elsa and Heather were still working, and let them fade into the background. When he approached the Nightmare again, the dragon’s eyes closed in acceptance, and the press of the nose was almost eager; Hiccup did not ask for permission before undoing the muzzle and checking on the wounds again. Most of them looked clean, only one looking to have any pus, and he cleaned it out in gentle motions.
When he left the muzzle off while returning to the wings, he expected to be censured for it, and was not sure what to make of nothing being said at all. It was just another sharp-edged stone rolling around the inside of his sore mind, though, and he put it aside, trying to find a rhythm of his own for washing and testing the membrane of the Nightmare’s wing. Unfortunately, it was almost too easy, and there was nothing to constrain his thoughts.
The buckle was fake.
The buckle was a fake and now he did not even have it; Alvin had taken it back, hidden it somewhere in the maze of caves that was Outcast Island. Perhaps it would be better if Stoick never knew exactly what had been used to lure Hiccup away, if he did not go through that terrible false hope and the hollow ache in his chest.
Hiccup remembered his mother. He had to, he was sure that he did, the sound of her voice and the feel of how she had held him and the faintest, faintest impression of how she had looked. But it had been so long ago, and he certainly remembered nothing else from those times. He would have doubted it, but he could not bear to doubt this.
Chapter 14 (Chapter 99!) 9/9afterandalasiaAugust 21 2016, 11:21:24 UTC
Never had Stoick said outright what had happened, and Hiccup was not sure just when he had worked it out, but somewhere along the lines of his life he had. And he had known as much as anyone else had, until for one terrible, shining moment he had held what he had thought was a buckle and a clue and a chance to know something more. Or if there was no more, to at least know that there was nothing else out there to be known.
He tried to push the thoughts aside, concentrate on the movements of cloth and soap and fingers testing for bruises or tiny tears. But there was not enough there to hold his mind. It always had been too busy for his own good.
Alvin was working on a fifteen-year-old memory. If he had just shown Gobber, perhaps the trick would have been exposed sooner, Gobber seeing something that would mark the buckle as not being his own creation. Or if Hiccup had not gone searching in his mother’s journals again; then, at least, he would never have known about the Bewilderbeast at all.
His hands shook. He thought at first that he might cry, but his eyes felt too dry and sore, as if he had already been through fits of tears. He wanted to hide beneath Toothless’s wings, but more than that he wanted to apologise, to his father and Gobber and everyone at home for disappearing on them, even more to Elsa for dragging her along on this.
Six days, and counting. He knew it would be several more before he had a chance of managing to escape.
If he could be around even one of the dragons, unsupervised, he could get them all free, get them out. Toothless might have to be carried, but they could do it. But he could not imagine leaving Toothless’s tail and saddle and connecting rod behind; they were part of Toothless, too intimate to leave in the Outcasts’ hands. Besides the knowledge that Alvin might be smart enough to gain from them. There were other personal effects there as well - some of his notes, some sketches of maps, the two Gronckle iron knives and his shield - but the saddle and tail still felt worst of all.
He clung to the threads of ideas. They, at least, had a chance of distracting him. He needed to know where their things were being stored - aside from the one knife which Alvin seemed to be carrying - before he could work out how to get them back. Perhaps there were things of Heather’s there, as well; he suspected she would appreciate freedom above anything else, but it still felt right to at least attempt to retrieve her things. And he could not very well just ask Alvin; Alvin would know Hiccup was planning to leave, of course he was, but it would surely be better to let him think that Hiccup was still working on plans and scraps of ideas, rather than trying to draw something together.
All three of them around the dragons. It was a start.
“If I’d known this was coming,” he said, rapping the fish with his knuckles and hoping that his teeth would be able to stand it, “I would have kept the water and dipped this into it.”
Heather had already managed to get through the skin of the fish with her teeth, and was now using her fingers to peel it back in sections. “Honestly? It starts seeming bearable after a few days.” She flattened a piece between her fingers, condensing it to something solid rather than thin flakes, and put it in her mouth. “What’s with the onion, anyway?”
“Alvin’s idea of an inside joke.” All the same, he tucked it into his lap before the damp of the ground seeped into it. Deciding that the fish looked like more of a challenge than the cheese, he followed Heather’s example and tackled it first. “What I would not give,” he added, between wrenching his way in, “for a change of clothes.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Sorry,” he said. He had at least been able to get cleaned up before they had started the second leg of their journey to Frigg’s Hearth - it felt so long ago now, just just three days or so. Heather had been dealing with this for longer.
Again, she shrugged. “At least this way I don’t have to worry about anyone peering in. Noticed a significant shortage of women when I was captured,” she added, slightly more bitterly.
“More likely to head for an island other than this one, I think,” Hiccup said, something of a stab in the dark but honestly his best bet. “Or the Bog Burglars - they don’t care much about some crimes that can get you exiled from other islands. Not everywhere seems to be as equal in bull-headed stupidity as Berk, either.”
Heather smiled, shaking her head. There was something almost fond about it, but Hiccup suspected that had a lot more to do with being the first person she had spoken to in a while who was not an Outcast. “You know, I’ve never visited Berk,” she said. “Nor - what’s the name of that city at the other end of the island? Arran?”
“Arendelle.”
She nodded. “That one. Two, three years ago, my family spent some time sailing between the more southerly kingdoms. Visited quite a few, actually. Learnt some new songs, some new curses. But not Arendelle.”
“Two years ago was when the King and Queen were lost,” said Hiccup, more quietly.
Heather’s smile faded. “It was,” she said. “You’re right. We were in the Southern Isles when we heard, changed our course and went further east instead. Then ended up going north for a couple of years. Never made it to Berk in the end.”
Soon, thought Hiccup, but did not dare say it aloud. Even if Alvin would doubtless be counting on Hiccup to be trying something, he did not yet know himself quite what it was, and did not know how good Heather’s acting could be either. Better if whatever she did was natural, and not faked. “Well, you aren’t missing too much. Sheep, rain, a fine and varied history of dragon attacks, and a past which has unfortunately been rather too entwined with that of Outcast Island itself.” He shot a glance towards the door, even if there was probably nobody listening.
“After so many islands, I am something of a connoisseur of rain,” said Heather, with just a ghost of a tease to her voice.
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Heather assured him that there had been no two nights in a row that there had been dragon attacks, at least since she had been held here. It seemed she was right; although it rained during the night, it was not much more than drizzle and did not run across the floor, and there were no dragons to be heard. He dozed again, in that place that was not deep enough to be restful but deep enough to let his mind slow to a crawl, to slowly creep around pieces of knowledge that were too vague to come to him while he was awake, but were somehow clearer in that half-asleep state.
It was the opening of the door that truly woke him, more than the faint light; the sky outside must have been heavy and dark with clouds. He hurried to put his foot back on as Alvin and one of his gaolers - a glance confirmed that it was Swordripper again - entered the room, and Swordripper took the water over to Elsa first, just as had been done the day before. There was less of a hesitation this time before she took it from his hand.
“So,” said Alvin, walking over towards Hiccup’s cell, “I hope you’re ready to continue your work.”
“Yes, and I’m sure that watching it is just riveting,” said Hiccup. He probably could have stood up even with his hands bound, but frankly did not really want to right at that moment. “You know, it would go quicker if you allowed Elsa to assist me.”
Alvin scoffed. “You know I’m no fool, don’t go saying things like that. I’m not letting you and her both out there.”
“We don’t have to be working in the same cell,” said Hiccup. “You can send more of your men to work on the floors, but trust me, the dragons are going to react just as badly to them now as they did before. Men that the dragons haven’t seen?” he shrugged. “You might have a chance. But Elsa will be able to actively help. Otherwise you’re in for another long, slow day of wing washing. Probably about three more, actually, just to get the Monstrous Nightmare checked over. And you need to be moving quicker if you want to get them out of those pens before muscle wastage sets in.”
He could have held his breath, waiting for the answer, but kept as film and confident as he could. It was not just Alvin who would need those dragons out quickly if they were going to be useful. Swordripper came over with his water and cup, but even Heather was watching cautiously; Hiccup wondered how much she was putting together of what Hiccup was doing in the cells.
“Give me the keys,” said Alvin to Swordripper, and Hiccup held back from feeling triumphant. Relieved would do. “Very well then, Hiccup,” he said, voice slowly rising as he walked back over to Elsa’s pen, the better to fill the distance. “I can’t spare any more of my men right now, but you’re in luck; you’ll have a pupil all the same.”
If he thought that Elsa knew that much less than Hiccup, he was wrong, but Hiccup did not say anything. Alvin paused opposite the tunnel out of the cells; and whistled down it; Hiccup frowned as a third man came to join them. Did Alvin think that it would take two people just to restrain Elsa? He passed the first cup of water to Heather, and offered her the second, but she shook her head even if her eyes weren’t so convinced. He drank half of his cup, and gave her the rest; he could see the gratitude in her eyes again as she gulped it down.
Alvin led Elsa out with a hand between her shoulders, and her eyes strayed from Hiccup’s cell to something out of the line of his sight, a frown crossing her features. They stopped in the middle of the cell, and Alvin threw the keys to the man entering and nodded to Hiccup’s cell.
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“No,” he said. “Her as well.”
“What?” said Heather. Hiccup could not blame her for either the surprise or the fear in her tone, considering that she did not know quite what was going on, but that it involved dragons. She tried to hold her hands away as Swordripper stepped into the cell and grabbed at her, and planted a determined kick on his knee. His leg almost buckled beneath him, but he grabbed the manacles and used them to drag her sharply sideways, almost pulling her over, before unlocking them.
“Hey!” said Hiccup. “There’s no need for that!”
“She wants to fight, she gets to fight,” said Alvin, in an infuriatingly reasonable tone of voice. Swordripper took hold of Heather’s arm and pulled her to her feet, even as her legs gave way and she had to catch herself on the wall. “Come on, I’m sure after all that time in that cell you’re just itching for a stretch.”
Heather glared at him from beneath her hair, and dragged herself upright with pain flickering visibly in her tight lips and winces. But she made it to upright, just as Swordripper took the opportunity to shove her in Hiccup’s direction.
It was only a couple of steps, but she stumbled, and Hiccup dodged in to catch her more from instinct than clear thought. She hissed angrily, fingers digging into Hiccup’s arms, but allowed herself to be helped upright and gave him a nod that he knew was still one of thanks.
“It’ll be all right,” said Hiccup quietly, as he released her arms. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Don’t worry, girl,” said Alvin. “You’ve been honoured! Wasn’t so keen on teaching us what he knows, were you, Hiccup? Now, get moving, all of you, and if I hear a word of Arendellen in front of those dragons you’ll all be working with gags on.”
Hiccup slowed his pace when he realised that Heather’s steps were still a little faltering, and put on a slight limp as a way of explaining it. It was harder to argue with a prosthetic foot, after all, and doubtless Outcast Island had more than enough of them to speak to that. He did not dare look over his shoulder, however, and had to trust that they were both still behind him as he led them directly down the tunnel to where the dragons were being held.
The air still made his head reel, made bile rise in his throat, but it was not as bad as it had been the day before and he only hesitated for a step before continuing. He heard Elsa’s sharp gasp, but before he could turn Alvin snapped at them to keep going, and given the circumstances he did not have much choice but to obey.
Just inside the room he stopped, and turned to them both. Elsa looked even paler than usual, almost ashen, and fear flickered in Heather’s eyes as she looked around. There was a muted, strangled roar from one of the Gronckles, and Heather jumped, almost darting backwards before the man who had joined Alvin stepped into her way. She bounced off him.
“It’s all right,” said Hiccup. “They’re just angry because they’ve been chained up.”
“They?” said Heather.
Hiccup looked at Alvin, expecting him to take over at this point, but Alvin just looked amused with the whole thing and nodded for Hiccup to explain. “The dragons,” said Hiccup, finally. “There are seven of them, one to a pen,” he nodded down along the line. “Alvin wants me to show them how to work with the dragons.” Unable to help himself, he gave Alvin a venomous look. “I’m not sure how much they’re actually learning.”
“Enough commentary,” said Alvin sharply.
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She shook her head, with a breath that sound almost like a fast, fluttering laugh. “No. My family avoids them.”
“Probably not a bad idea,” he said, hoping that his smile looked genuine. It was meant to be, beneath the tiredness. “But it’ll be all right. They won’t hurt you.”
“You can stop them?” said Heather.
“They don’t want to.”
Although she still looked uncertain, the fear in her eyes softened at his words, and she shifted back to a more neutral stance in front of him. Hiccup could not help wondering whether his lips felt more dry from nervousness or from thirst.
“Will you let me show you?” he said, extending a hand.
He did not in the slightest bit blame Heather for looking at his hand as if it, as well, might suddenly sprout fangs and prove itself capable of biting. But she did, finally, place her hand into his, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. Only then did he look round to Alvin.
“I know what this means for you, as well,” said Hiccup. “Seeing how you should greet a dragon for the first time.”
“Indeed,” said Alvin.
“So I want information for it.”
It was bold, and probably foolish, and he knew it. But even besides his own anger, and his own desire to defy Alvin that he was quashing for the sake of the dragons, he knew that if he went along with everything too easily that Alvin would get suspicious.
“I’ll let you ask yer questions.”
No guarantee of answers, but it was a start. “One question,” said Hiccup, holding up a finger for emphasis, “and then I show Heather how to greet a Nadder, and you see as well.” He took a deep breath, and made firm his decision. “The buckle. Where did you get it?”
His heart pounded in his chest. Heather frowned at him, but he only saw it out of the corner of his eye, could not look round to her. Could not have explained to a stranger, even one that he was having to trust so intimately as her. Instead he held Alvin’s gaze, until the Outcast gave an astonished bark of laughter.
“That’s it?” he said. “I give you a free question, and you ask about the buckle?” He laughed again, harder this time, shaking his head. Hiccup felt his throat tighten and the anger and humiliation welling in him again, but tamped them down. He had to know. “Well, that I shall answer.” Alvin’s eyes met Hiccup’s again, and there was a cruel pleasure there, pride. “We made it right ‘ere. Half of Berk would have recognised that buckle, your mother were so proud of it. Wore it even when you were in her belly.” He pointed at Hiccup, but it was less a jab and more of a lazy, vague recognition. “Course, it was after my time she was lost, so I had to ask some Berkians proper-”
“MIldew,” said HIccup, without meaning to, and it came out like a curse.
Alvin shrugged. “Mildew, your man from last year, what was that name;” he snapped his fingers; “Lugstick? Something like that. Even your friend Johann would at least have known whether he’d seen it the last fourteen years. So don’t you mind where I checked,” he concluded, “just know that I did. And then all we had to do was mock one up again - couldn’t get the eyes quite right, the gems were tat,” he waved a hand. “But it was good enough. And then all we had to do was put a boat on the currents that would lead to Berk. I imagine you must have got there first, to get your ‘ands on it.”
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He had been wrong, even more wrong than he had realised. And now there was not even knowledge of his mother for him to take home.
“Hiccup…” said Elsa, softly. He could not even turn his eyes to look at her. All the years that he had grown up knowing that his mother was gone, and for one ridiculous weak moment he had thought that somehow he could rewrite the story. Change it all. What could he expect but to fail?
“There’s your information,” said Alvin, the words like weights slamming down. “Now do your part. Get to work.”
He moved woodenly, as if all of the stiffness of the night had struck him at once. Alvin gestured for the one Outcast with them to unlock the door to the pen of the first Nadder, who looked up with wary, defensive eyes as Hiccup led Heather near.
“You’ve got no weapons,” he said to her, “so you’re no threat. They know that.” It was not the iron or steel itself that they reacted to, either; it had to be the blood, that was all that Hiccup could see for an explanation. “Stay calm - I know,” he added quickly, “it’s easier said than done. But it really does help. Not, we approach from right in front.”
He stepped behind her, and she looked alarmed for a moment as took hold of her left hand in his, then paused.
“Wait, sorry, which hand to you use? For writing.”
“The right,” said Heather, with a vague gesture that he suspected was largely from nerves. Hiccup gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and stepped to be at her right shoulder instead, reaching round to bring her hand up and facing outwards.
“All right, then. So, with him;” a nod to the Nadder; “we’re going to approach from straight ahead.”
The smile was hollow behind, he knew that much, and it faded as soon as Heather was facing away from him and towards the dragon again. He did not dare look round, knowing that anger or despair or something in between would come rushing back if he looked upon Alvin again. He had to concentrate on the dragon; for all that he had downplayed the danger, there always was one with so large and powerful a creature, and Heather needed and deserved his focus.
“I’m right behind you,” he said. “Step up into the blindspot; there we go.” They stood right before the dragon’s nose, closer than Heather would have preferred to judge by the tension in her shoulders. But the blindspot was not large anyway, and with the lingering smell they would need to be closer to. “Let him smell you. Their sense of smell is a lot stronger than ours.”
“Doubt I smell that good right now,” said Heather.
“Dragons have different standards.”
It was meant to be a joke, but he heard how flat it was. All that he could hear was Alvin’s words in his head, over and over, We made it right here. A second treachery.
“As he finishes his sniffing,” he continued, as the Nadder seemed to start to lose interest, chin dropping again, “take the same hand, and reach round just…” he guided her hand to the spot just behind the Nadder’s jaw. “Here. Scratch gently, don’t let your nails snag on the scales there. That way it doesn’t hurt.”
From where he was standing, he could just see Heather’s expression, the tightness in her eyes and the press of her lips, the nerves relaxing into surprise as the Nadder leant into her hand with a soft rumble that could not in anyone’s mind seem aggressive. Hiccup slowly drew his hand away, leaving just Heather touching the Nadder, and saw the softening of her expression as the dragon leant into her, the creature itself visible beneath the shackles and the stories of fear.
“There we go,” he said softly. It helped, at least a little, to see something coming of this. He stepped back, and Heather did not even seem to notice, her left hand coming to rest cautiously on the Nadder’s jaw and automatically falling away from both the muzzle and the signs of injury.
And she had never met a dragon before.
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“There,” he said. “He won’t growl at you now, or anything of that sort. You should be able to clean in here easily enough.”
“Thank you,” said Heather, turning back to him in the middle of saying it so that he was not even sure who it was more meant for. She dropped her hands away from the dragon in a way that Hiccup was tempted to call reluctant, and followed Hiccup back out of the cell to retrieve the shovel and barrow that Alvin nodded her towards.
Elsa went to pick up the other shovel, but stopped dead as Alvin’s hand came to rest heavily on her shoulder. Hiccup saw the flash of anger in her eyes, the way that her fists clenched, but then she flinched bodily and her hands spasmed open again. Her magic, Hiccup could only assume. He strode towards her, ignoring Alvin’s glare until the other Outcast grabbed him by the upper arm and hauled him backwards so hard that he thought for a moment his shoulder would be dragged from its socket. A hiss escaped him as he was dragged back.
“No,” said Alvin, calmly, as if nothing was amiss still. Hiccup glared at him; Elsa seemed to be refusing to turn around. “Different pens. And this time,” he squeezed Elsa’s shoulder, “she can go in by herself.”
“Alvin, I’m the one that-”
“You’ve said your father has a dragon. Looks like she doesn’t, or she wouldn’t’ve been flying with you,” said Alvin, voice sharper, “but I’m willing to wager she knows a little bit about dragons herself.”
“It’s not you doing the wagering.”
“All the better for me, then.” Alvin finally removed his hand, and waved to the pens. “Tell you what, I’ll even let you take your pick.”
Elsa had not even seen the other dragons, but Hiccup did not even have to ask in order to know that Alvin was quite aware of that. He had a suspicion that was part of what Alvin was testing, waiting to see how Elsa would respond. For the first moment, she did nothing, simply kept her eyes on Hiccup.
There was nothing else that he could do; he nodded minutely, and saw her shoulders sink as she realised that he did not quite know what he was doing either.
She had already seen the first Gronckle, and the first Nadder, but now she turned to continue along the line. Hiccup had no doubt that it was largely to see what dragons there were, and what state they were in, rather than to ‘pick’ one. She walked past the Nightmare, hesitated at the sight of Toothless, and seemed to draw herself on reluctantly. It would not take a genius to know that Alvin would not let anyone in with Toothless unless it was an absolute necessity.
Outside the cell of the dragon he could not name, she slowed, and he expected confusion to cross her face but instead she was staring, transfixed. There was a low dragon growl, and just by not recognising the species Hiccup knew that it had to be the dragon she was looking at. It all seemed to happen in a moment; Elsa’s eyes went wide, she shied back a pace, then her hands clutched to her chest and she fell forwards, barely catching herself on the ground as she went to her knees.
It was probably only the suddenness which meant that Hiccup was able to pull himself free from the man holding him and bolt to Elsa’s side. He skidded to his knees beside her on the rock, ignoring the grating pain, and put an arm around her shoulders without thinking. Her back was icy beneath his touch, her breathing ragged and hissed, and when Hiccup looked up at the dragon he felt the wave of anger and pain worse than the day before, so intense that it seemed to cloud his vision red.
He looked back to Elsa again, clinging to thoughts of her. The anger pressed around him like a cloak until he wanted to scream, wanted to feel a weapon in his hands or let his hands be weapons, as if they were tipped with talons to slash and to kill, but he made himself focus on Elsa and the concern and love that bubbled in the centre of his chest.
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She shuddered, and he was not even sure it was a response. He pulled her to his chest as best he could, ignoring the stinging cold where she pressed against him, and pressed his forehead to her hair. The fury - the dragon’s fury, it had to be - swelled and raged against him, but through it he felt the first tendril of curiosity, uncertainty, as Hiccup held Elsa closely.
It was hard to think, as if most of his mind was taken up with another being’s rage. He clung to Elsa, remembered how it had felt when they had first been able to talk, to really talk; the day she had come to the village and braved everything to get him out of the jail cell; her expressed, bewildered, happy, at the Thawfest Games; the moment she and Anna had been dragged soaking from the Bay of Arendelle and she had looked as if the world had become a dream. Every moment he had seen over the last year, he bundled up and held on tightly to, and somehow he felt the anger draw back.
He dared to look up, and saw that the dragon no longer had its teeth bared, and that it’s head was slightly tilted as it regarded them. Tendrils of curiosity seemed to brush over them like actual, physical things, and Hiccup closed his eyes again and thought of Toothless, that rush whenever he chose to press his nose to Hiccup’s hand, the feeling of flying, at one with the dragon and barely separate from the sky, the warmth that came from curling beneath the Night Fury’s wing and hearing the slow pounding heartbeat through his warm flank.
The anger faded further, like an ebbing wave, and though Elsa was still shaking he could hear her breath coming more easily, and her skin grew less cold to the touch. Uncertainty, curiosity, all tinged with a gentleness that was undeniably dragon in nature, took its place, less oppressive and less intruding.
“Elsa?” said Hiccup again. This time, she looked up, tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. He could not hear movement behind them, and hoped that it meant that Alvin, the other Outcast, and Heather were still at a safe distance. “Can you hear me now?”
She nodded. “It felt like…”
The word trailed away. “Yeah,” said Hiccup. “I think that’s… what it does.” Something about the dragon, something that had this effect on people. He wondered how badly Alvin’s men had reacted; Alvin had said something about them refusing to guard it. “Are you all right?”
Elsa knelt up, drawing her hand away from her chest where it had been splayed across her ribs. Her fingers were red and blistered, some of them tinged with blue. Without thinking, Hiccup grabbed her hand, and she winced but did not even slightly pull her fingers away. He gently tapped her fingertips, right over the blisters, but they were hard to the touch.
“Can you feel that?”
“No… not really, no.”
“It’s all right,” said Hiccup. “It’s just frostbite. It’ll heal.” How Elsa, of all people, had frostbite on her fingers in a warm and stuffy room, he did not much want to know. “Come on.”
He got to his feet, metal foot to the ground first, and carefully drew Elsa up as well. She closed her eyes, and he saw the flicker of anger in her pinched lips again, but this time something told him that the anger was at least her own. The dragon in the cell beside them made a gruff, grunting sound, but at least it was not another growl.
“Not that one,” he said softly.
“Not that one,” Elsa echoed.
She slipped her hands out of his, and turned away from him to walk past the other dragons, the second Nadder and the second Gronckle, and paused at the end to look for a long time at the Scauldron in its pool. By the time that she came back down the corridor, her face was schooled calm again, the tears mostly dry on her cheeks, even if both of them knew that Alvin had seen what had happened.
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The air felt significantly less oppressive, even if it still stank. He glanced over to see Elsa pick up the second of the shovels without acknowledging Alvin, or Heather who was still watching them with fear not entirely hidden on her face. Elsa took up the handles of the wheelbarrow without comment and crossed to the pen of the first Gronckle, setting it just outside and laying the shovel across the top. She turned, and finally looked at Alvin. Pointedly.
He turned to his companion. “Unlock it.”
Even from where he stood, Hiccup could see the calculation in Alvin’s stance, the way that he was watching everything. Elsa said nothing as the door was opening, and when she stepped into the cell she was out of Hiccup’s line of sight. But it was only a few short moments before Alvin nodded, apparently to himself.
“Right,” he said. “Then you work with that one, and you,” he pointed at Heather, “with that Nadder. I’ve got words to be having.”
Hiccup should have expected it, he knew, and steeled himself and raised his chin as Alvin made down the corridor towards him. Emotions were still fighting inside Hiccup’s gut, and in their turmoil nothing was rising close enough to the surface to break through; the look that he gave Alvin was almost dispassionate.
“So,” said Alvin, as he approached, “what just happened?”
Something that, given a choice, he would never have allowed Alvin to see. “You said yourself that the dragon affects people,” said Hiccup. “Your men won’t guard it, fine. But Elsa won’t be working with it either.”
“I doubt I need to say that my men didn’t ‘ave that happen.”
The dragon looked straight at Alvin, and hissed, showing its teeth again. Red bloomed on its skin, and Hiccup felt the swell of anger like a pressure on his skin.
“Looks like responses vary,” said Hiccup, keeping his words tight. “What about you, Alvin? Can you even begin to feel it?”
Alvin looked at him, green eyes boring against the stone of Hiccup’s anger. “Oh, I feel it. But I know what’s in my head and what ain’t. Now, I believe you was working with a dragon as well.”
Hiccup returned to the work of the previous day. He could hear the scraping of shovels on stone, two different rhythms that let him know that Elsa and Heather were still working, and let them fade into the background. When he approached the Nightmare again, the dragon’s eyes closed in acceptance, and the press of the nose was almost eager; Hiccup did not ask for permission before undoing the muzzle and checking on the wounds again. Most of them looked clean, only one looking to have any pus, and he cleaned it out in gentle motions.
When he left the muzzle off while returning to the wings, he expected to be censured for it, and was not sure what to make of nothing being said at all. It was just another sharp-edged stone rolling around the inside of his sore mind, though, and he put it aside, trying to find a rhythm of his own for washing and testing the membrane of the Nightmare’s wing. Unfortunately, it was almost too easy, and there was nothing to constrain his thoughts.
The buckle was fake.
The buckle was a fake and now he did not even have it; Alvin had taken it back, hidden it somewhere in the maze of caves that was Outcast Island. Perhaps it would be better if Stoick never knew exactly what had been used to lure Hiccup away, if he did not go through that terrible false hope and the hollow ache in his chest.
Hiccup remembered his mother. He had to, he was sure that he did, the sound of her voice and the feel of how she had held him and the faintest, faintest impression of how she had looked. But it had been so long ago, and he certainly remembered nothing else from those times. He would have doubted it, but he could not bear to doubt this.
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He tried to push the thoughts aside, concentrate on the movements of cloth and soap and fingers testing for bruises or tiny tears. But there was not enough there to hold his mind. It always had been too busy for his own good.
Alvin was working on a fifteen-year-old memory. If he had just shown Gobber, perhaps the trick would have been exposed sooner, Gobber seeing something that would mark the buckle as not being his own creation. Or if Hiccup had not gone searching in his mother’s journals again; then, at least, he would never have known about the Bewilderbeast at all.
His hands shook. He thought at first that he might cry, but his eyes felt too dry and sore, as if he had already been through fits of tears. He wanted to hide beneath Toothless’s wings, but more than that he wanted to apologise, to his father and Gobber and everyone at home for disappearing on them, even more to Elsa for dragging her along on this.
Six days, and counting. He knew it would be several more before he had a chance of managing to escape.
If he could be around even one of the dragons, unsupervised, he could get them all free, get them out. Toothless might have to be carried, but they could do it. But he could not imagine leaving Toothless’s tail and saddle and connecting rod behind; they were part of Toothless, too intimate to leave in the Outcasts’ hands. Besides the knowledge that Alvin might be smart enough to gain from them. There were other personal effects there as well - some of his notes, some sketches of maps, the two Gronckle iron knives and his shield - but the saddle and tail still felt worst of all.
He clung to the threads of ideas. They, at least, had a chance of distracting him. He needed to know where their things were being stored - aside from the one knife which Alvin seemed to be carrying - before he could work out how to get them back. Perhaps there were things of Heather’s there, as well; he suspected she would appreciate freedom above anything else, but it still felt right to at least attempt to retrieve her things. And he could not very well just ask Alvin; Alvin would know Hiccup was planning to leave, of course he was, but it would surely be better to let him think that Hiccup was still working on plans and scraps of ideas, rather than trying to draw something together.
All three of them around the dragons. It was a start.
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