This is where I belong ||httyd fanfic||

53. A doubt

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Each new day brought the promise of something. Good or bad, there was always a surprise to behold.

That was something Hiccup had been taught by his many teachers and experiences around the world. And it was something he was realizing to be quite true in the past few days.

The weary eyes and shoulders of Hiccup's that had beheld many a surprise in the last few days were brought some small relief by the crisp and cool wafts of northern air. He and Toothless ascended into the skies of Selardalr, breathing in those winds untainted by soot and steel, and the potential of spilt blood. Each day brought the promise of something, yes, but in tandem with earthly dilemmas, it also brought the anxious anticipation of what would come in the next.

His son Alvis had told him of an unknown dragon rider sailing above the skies; whether said rider was friend or foe was yet to be determined. He'd have liked to believe the chance of the former, who would no doubt need such a loving and open heart, but truthfully, his methods weren't exactly a necessity to gain the majestic winged beasts as allies. Many beyond the Norse islands could have figured out their own ideas or were blessed to have had some similar peacekeeper do so for them in the past. And with the course of human history or ambition flowing in every which way it did, there would be those who might have grown dissatisfied with their current power. It didn't take seeing his detestable, greedy cousin again to confirm such thoughts along that line.

Thoughts of his ex-family and Berk actually still plagued his mind, them and what the new day might bring from them in particular. It made his head throb in pain, caught tightly in apprehension's vice, that he held his hand to attempt to soothe it. As always, the act failed to escape Toothless' ever watching, ever concerned eyes.

"You know, I wish you'd take a day off with the dragon nanny stuff." Hiccup joked in a tired tone.

"You make that impossible." Toothless grumbled back with a light ear-slap to the face.

"Gah! Thanks for the wake-up call, I guess." He mumbled before looking down solemnly. "Really, thanks."

"I know that look. You're still thinking about it, aren't you?"

What Toothless referred to were two things in one, a previous meeting, and a rift of distrust that had begun to form between Hiccup and the veteran heads of Selardalr as a result.

Many of the Silent Wolf' higher ranked clans had come to him with words of protest not long after the birth of his daughter. Though he had proven his worth in rebuilding the island, Hiccup's inexperience in tribal politics had truthfully sprouted seeds of doubt the day he succeeded to the role of chief. The Hooligans' unexpected infiltration had brought to his attention the thoughts of those who still clung to the old ways and questioned the stability of their new lives or wondered about the elevation of another island's heir to Selardalrian power.

Despite his personal vendetta against his former home, Hiccup's desire for peace drove him to a stand of inaction against Berk. Harold had approved, though the same could not be said for the other clans, who viewed his moderation as a clear sign of weakness or lingering emotional attachment. His more vocal critics went as far as pointing fingers and asking just whose side the young chief was on.

His shoulders were weighted heavily that afternoon with the blame for the new woes Selardalr faced, as the men in the Great Hall criticized his every word. Inside, by the warm fire and with the morning sun at their grimly stocked backs, they discussed what the best course of action was to appease a growing fear in the people's hearts. A possible return to war: