From Me To You: A Mericcup Story

Chapter 2

Hiccup set Toothless in glide mode, laying on his back and sighing. He had just met some Scottish girl, had almost died by her arrows, and now had to fly home. What a day.

Merida. That was a weird name. He thought a better name would be Firehead. That suited her, with her mess of red curls and her fiery temper.

She was the tiniest bit beautiful, with blue eyes and a cute button nose.

Hiccup slapped himself, remembering that she was Scottish, their most hated enemy, after dragons.

He couldn't tell his dad about his friendship with Toothless. Stoick would kill him, or send him to the front lines. He would probably be dead within 10 minutes. Hiccup knew he wasn't a fighter, and his dad knew it, too.

Toothless grunted a little, and he sat up realizing that they were almost to their respected valley. He tilted his foot, and down they went.

After landing, Hiccup took off his flying outfit and stashed it under a little shelter made by rocks. What on earth would the others think if he showed up in that?

He all but ran back to the village, just barely arriving in time for dinner, not that anyone noticed he had been gone. Ever since that dragon got his foot, the other vikings had basically shunned him. He, unlike Gobber, had a weapon he could have used, and he was only cornered by two. Gobber got an excuse because he had been surrounded by seven dragons.

Hiccup ate his chicken absentmindedly, thinking about the map he was making. So far, he had mapped out three islands. What he wanted to do was get his hands on an actual map of Scotland, but they didn't have any. So, he had to map it out himself.

That was when he ran into Merida.

Astrid brushed by his table, head high. Vikings followed her, asking for her opinion on battle form and weapons.

She seemed out of reach, with her double sided axe and her perfect form. Who was Hiccup kidding? He would never get anywhere close to her. It had been like that for the last five years.

After he was done, he left to the blacksmith's. Gobber had given him his own special work room, and that was where he spent his time when he wasn't flying with Toothless.

Hiccup stared at all his sketches of swords and axes. They were exactly what you expected in a blacksmith shop. But when he reached up into the rafters, there was a short rope. He pulled it down, and all of his sketches of dragons, modifications for Toothless' tail, his flying outfit, and a map of Berk appeared.

Hiccup stared at the map, mentally drawing a flight route. He wrote little symbols indicating where each species of dragon hung out. They weren't clear symbols to anyone who found the map, so if the vikings went tromping over, they wouldn't be prepared for whatever species they came across.

There was a secret trip wire on the tiny path leading to the door. It was impossible to step over. When hit, a big pile of shields would come crashing down. This way, he was alerted when someone was coming. This happened barely a minute after he had pulled out his things.

Hiccup gently pulled on the rope, and the dragon related sheet went rolling back into the rafters. He shoved all of the things he had out into a barrel, putting the lid on it. He pulled out all of his decoy sketches, about weaponry, and spread it out.

When the door opened, it looked as if he had been working on normal viking things the whole time.

Stoick squeezed through the small door, and Hiccup inwardly groaned. Interrogations usually happened once a week.

"Hey, dad," he muttered.

"Where have you been all day?" Stoick was always down and to the point.

"I just wander around. I'm trying to find the Night Fury."

That argument always ended when Hiccup brought up the Night Fury. Everyone in the village knew about his attempt to hit one, and how he claims he really did. If you ever asked him for more information, or continued talk to him, he would go on and on about his theories.

"You've been searching for five years. You still haven't found that stupid dragon."

"I haven't checked everywhere. I'm really sure that if I go to-"

Stoick held up his hands, silencing Hiccup.

"I don't want to hear it. Good night."

Hiccup leaned against his desk, head in his hands. He really, really wished he could just tell everyone about Toothless. Maybe he could change their minds about dragons.

But, vikings are stubborn. A perfect example was the war that was going on. They refused to back down, and that made the fighting go on and on and on.

Merida could have killed Hiccup, or brought him in to be tortured for information. She could have done so much. He wondered that whole night why she let him go. The question burned in his head.

Why?