Hey guys, so I decided to update the next chapter sooner because I am so hooked to writing this story. Anyway, this chapter, like the other one has some angst and so many feels. You can tell Hiccup's life really sucks and nobody deserves to be treated that way.
I do warn you there is depiction of self harm. Yes, I am aware the Hiccup we know and love in the franchise would never do this. But in my au, he is struggling emotionally and he lets his demons get to him. Yeah, he is depressed. But he is still sarcastic and can take an insult or two. And he will finally learn self harming won't do him any good
Enjoy this chapter :)
-Jennifer Tjandrajana
~
Ever since early morning, Hiccup had been working at the forge mending the villagers' weapons. Not that he had anything better to do.
Several days have passed since the last horrible storm. Though, the villagers were busy repairing their roofs and damaged walls.
Luckily, Hiccup's home hadn't suffered a lot of damage. It was sturdy and could last the worse storm, and was perched on high ground.
Something the Haddock family was grateful for. Well, the family that's left.
Hiccup grunted as he hefted a pile of blunt axes and swords in his arms. He wandered over to the wheel near the fire place and sharpened the blunt weapons.
He wasn't going to have a break any time soon.
Outside, the queue of Vikings waited to get their weapons repaired.
Some grumbled, impatient by the long wait.
Hiccup assured them that their weapons will get fixed as soon as possible.
When he finished a great axe, one that belonged to one of his neighbours, Hoark the Haggard, Hiccup handed the axe to its owner.
Hoark's gaze fell on Hiccup's in disbelief.
"You haven't been causing mischief, boy?"
Hiccup shook his head, "N-No, sir,"
Hoark's gaze lingered for a while before he slid some coins across the counter and retrieved his axe.
"Learn to follow orders. For your father's sake. He has been through enough trouble,"
Slipping the coins in his pocket, Hiccup let out a sigh.
Leaning against the counter, the young apprentice took a breather.
Usually he would be focused on mending weapons. Yet, today he had been awfully distracted.
One of them was the conversation he had with Astrid that night at the Great Hall.
Their slightly tensed conversation replayed in his mind over and over again. He hadn't spoken with Astrid since that night, but Hiccup understood the Hofferson girl didn't want anything to do with him.
Her father didn't want her young shield maiden to associate with somebody as low as Hiccup. Asher was a barrier standing between Hiccup's friendship with Astrid.
Now he wasn't sure if they were friends or acquaintances at least.
Strangers; yes that was the perfect word to describe them.
Hiccup went over to his bench to pound a few bent sword blades back to shape.
He hadn't realised he pounded the axe too hard until he felt his fingers pressed against his hammer.
The apprentice let out a pained scream.
Realising his customers were watching, Hiccup silently winced at the pain.
He swivelled around, accidently scraping his arm across a sword hanging on the edge of the bench.
The sound of his sleeve ripping was enough to alert the boy.
Blood dripped down his arm, droplets splattering onto the wooden floorboards.
The onlookers watched the apprentice with disbelief.
Clumsily, Hiccup knocked over some weaponry. He cringed as they clattered to the ground.
Murmurs spread through the crowd as they watched Hiccup struggle to gather the weapons clattered to the floor.
Hiccup's cheeks flushed, wishing the world could swallow him up right now. He didn't want to be here, stared down by the villagers was causing an accident.
"What is going on here?"
Slowly, Hiccup turned around, one hand covering his cut.
Standing at the door, Gobber looked at his apprentice with a mix of worry and disbelief.
The apprentice's cheeks flushed, ashamed for the damage he caused to Gobber's shop.
Hiccup gathered the weapons on the ground then set it on the bench.
"Nothing," he averted his gaze from Gobber, "Just had an accident. That's all,"
Guilt masked over the teen's face as he furiously stared at the ground.
Gobber let out a disappointed sigh, "Oh, Thor, what am I going to do with you? What did you do this time? This place is a mess!"
Hiccup shifted uncomfortably in his place. He glanced anxiously at the crowd, who looked shell-shocked.
"I was just fixing an axe-'' he began, but Gobber interjected.
"Oh my thor, Hiccup. Your arm, it's bleeding!"
Hiccup glanced at his cut, shrugging.
Although, the pain did sting, Hiccup was used to accidents like this.
He was a Viking after all. He was used to getting a cut or two.
Though, he had seen older Viking men and women during raids losing limbs from vicious dragons.
The sight of blood was something he was used to seeing.
"Oh, that," the brunet shrugged it off, "I just accidently cut myself with an axe. That's all,"
Gobber didn't seem at all convinced. He cared about his apprentice, believe it or not. He was concerned about his health and wellbeing than anything else.
Serving customers with a bleeding arm was not very pleasant to look at.
"You need a break, lad," Gobber insisted, concerned, "I'll have this mess cleaned up. You need to get that arm bandaged up,"
The two of them were interrupted by loud cackling outside.
"Hello? Could we get our weapons fixed?"
Emerging from the crowd were none other than Hiccup's personal tormentors; Snotlout and the Thorston twins.
Hiccup stared furiously at the ground while his hand covered his cut.
"Whoa, what happened here?" Tuffnut commented at the weapons scattered on the floor.
"Do I see blood there?" His twin grinned widely, "Cool!"
Rolling his eyes, Hiccup stood back, crossing his arms. He wanted to get out of here before things could get worse for him than it already is.
Hoping his tormentors wouldn't notice him, Hiccup quietly slipped towards his study.
Though, they seem none the wiser.
"Useless, did you make this mess?"
Hiccup froze, letting out a breath. He slowly turned around to face the three troublemakers.
"Man, how can somebody as puny as you make such a huge mess?" Snotlout snorted with a smirk, "Then again, I am not surprised. You always make a mess of everything. Don't think nobody knows; they do,"
The twins cackled at his remark.
"And I thought we were the only troublemakers," Tuffnut sniggered under his breath.
Ruffnut playfully nudged her brother's arm.
"Looks like Useless over here is more of a troublemaker than we ever were,"
Hiccup avoided their nasty glares. He lowered his eyes, muttering something to himself.
Gobber glanced at his apprentice, sensing how distraught and humiliated he was.
He went over to the troublemakers with a scowl.
"Okay, what do you lot want?" he demanded, crossing his arms, "If you're here to torment my apprentice, I suggest you do it in your own time,"
"Gee, thanks a lot, Gobber," Hiccup rolled his eyes, "That makes me feel a lot better,"
Gobber scowled at his apprentice.
"Our weapons are blunt," Ruffnut tossed her spear just as her brother did.
"Could you sharpen them? I want mine so sharp that I can shove it up Tuff's butt!"
Tuffnut glared at his twin, "I'll shove mine up yours. How'd you like that?"
Snotlout rolled his eyes, "Ugh, muttonheads,"
He realised he spoke too soon because the twins started fighting each other with their spears.
Mental note: never let the twins go anywhere near a weapon because that makes up a recipe for disaster.
Once the twins get into a fight, it was impossible to break them apart.
"Alright, alright. I'll have your weapons sharpened before you know it," Gobber said, collecting Snotlout's blunt sword.
He went out of the store, yanking the twins' spears, who had been quarrelling over something.
Oblivious to everything around them, the twins didn't realise their spears were no longer in their hands.
"Careful with that. That's my Dad's sword," Snotlout exclaimed as Gobber set his and the twins' weapons in the pile.
The blacksmith looked at Snotlout with disbelief.
"I wonder why your father let you play with his sword,"
Snotlout's cheeks flushed instantly, "He won't mind! I'm just...borrowing it. Yeah! A warrior is without his weapon. Besides, he's got other spares,"
Ruffnut sniggered, "He broke his Dad's good sword. He tried to fight off some terrors. It was pathetic,"
"Shut up!" Snotlout scowled, "He won't know. It'll be good as new. So, fix it!"
Gobber rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I got it. Don't you worry,"
He turned to Hiccup then muttered, "Go rest up. I can take over. Besides, I got these muttonheads to take care of,"
Hiccup stared at his cut, which was still bleeding through his shirt. He knew he needed to go home to change to a spare tunic.
The last thing he wanted was to walk around the village with blood on his shirt.
Hiccup felt bad Gobber had to stand up for him against his tormentors.
After all, nobody stood up for him, and honestly, this made things too easy for him.
Vikings couldn't rely on anybody else to help fight back those who offended them. They had to fight them on their own.
"Are you sure? Maybe I could help. I just need to bandage my arm," Hiccup insisted.
Gobber opened his mouth to speak but was shortly interrupted by Snotlout.
"Aw, did baby Hiccy hurt himself?" Snotlout taunted with a smirk, "Do you want your mommy to kiss it- Oh wait, you don't even have a mom. You have...nobody,"
The twins sniggered at his remark.
Tuffnut lifted a perplexed brow, "Wait, what about his Dad? I mean, he isn't an orphan-''
Ruffnut punched her brother's arm before he could finish his sentence.
Hiccup sighed, lowering his eyes dejectedly. He hated it when his tormentors always brought his deceased mother into their taunting.
Honestly, it was disrespectful for them to do that.
"You're momless," Ruffnut sniggered, "And your Dad probably hates a runt like you,"
Pain stabbed through Hiccup's heart like an arrow ripping through his flesh.
Though, he wished that could happen. It would be a quick death one he could get over it in one split second.
His eyes stung, believing every word they said was true. But he refused to break down in front of his tormentors.
After being trampled over by the village, especially his tormentors, he was tired of it.
Hiccup wanted to fight back to prove he wasn't a weakling who let people walk over him. He didn't want Gobber's help. He wasn't a coward or incapable either.
Encountering that Nightmare all those weeks ago had been frightening. Believe it or not, it was better than being tormented by Snotlout and the twins daily.
"Oh, knock it off, Snotlout. Don't you have better things to talk about?" Hiccup shot back, crossing his arms, "Come on, don't you think insulting my mother -my dead mother - is getting old?"
For a moment, the three bullies said nothing. They stared at the smaller boy, their jaws hung open.
Even Gobber was just as shocked. Yet, at the same time, he was certainly impressed.
"Um, did he talk back?" Tuffnut whispered to his twin.
Ruffnut looked just as clueless and shock as him. She shrugged.
"I have no idea. It's not every day that Useless talks back,"
Having had enough of the teens' shenanigans, Gobber ushered them out of the store.
Quickly, Hiccup slipped to his study, searching for something to bandage his cut.
On the top shelf, he found a basket of bandages and ointments.
He reached for the basket, ripping a piece of bandage then binds it out over his arm.
As he binds the cloth over his arm, the young Viking couldn't help but stare at the slitted cuts on his arms.
Glancing at the hunting knife on his waistband, Hiccup felt tempted to do it again.
Cutting was something he did find satisfying. The last time he did wasn't long ago, and the scars were slowly fading away with each passing day.
Self-harm was indeed something the village frowned upon.
It was something Vikings did not take lightly because if you were caught self-harming, you would be banished to be eaten by beasts.
Anyone caught doing that would never be guaranteed a place to feast in the halls of Valhalla.
No. I can't. It won't help anything, he shook his head, you got to fight the urge, Hiccup!
He wanted to cut, no matter his conscience said. He wanted all the pain and hurt that haunted him every day to vanish.
All he could think of was that sharp blade piercing through his skin...
Don't do it, his conscience pleaded, it's for your own good. You're not useless, Hiccup. You're not a nuisance. You're not worthless. For the love of Thor, don't do it!
Conflicted, Hiccup wasn't sure whether to listen to his conscience or his gut.
Slowly, he inched his blade closer and closer until it made contact with his skin.
The cold blade penetrated through, causing a tiny droplet of blood to fall on the floor.
Relief; that is what he felt. Yet, guilt was something new he felt.
Haziness suddenly took over him from the blood loss. He placed a hand over his head, feeling a little dizzy.
His green eyes stared at the little scar that formed. His stomach hurled, realising he let his demons get to him.
The knife slipped out of his hand, dropping on the floor with a clatter.
Not wanting anybody to see his scar, Hiccup quickly binds it over his scar.
He placed the basket back to its place before slipping out of the room.
When he went to the shop, there Gobber was crouched on the floor gathering weapons that fell on the floor.
Glancing at his cluttered mess- his cluttered mess- Hiccup felt guilt bubble in his stomach. He had to admit; he was the clumsiest person to ever walk on Berk.
"Gobber, I'm sorry-''
"Accidents happen, lad," Gobber said, standing up, "Don't worry. I will have this mess cleaned up."
Hiccup's head hung low in shame.
"Lad, why don't we go to the Great Hall for lunch?" Gobber suggested, "You obviously could use a breather and some company,"
Hiccup looked up, considering it for a moment. He had always sat alone at the Great Hall whenever he had meals.
Sometimes he would skip meals when he wasn't too hungry. Yet, the real reason he did was Berkian food tasted horrible. Most of the time.
"Yeah, sure. I'll meet you there," Hiccup walked out of the shop, "First I probably need to change into something clean,"
~
After Hiccup had changed into a spare tunic, he went over to the Great Hall.
It was lunch time, and the Great Hall was swarmed by Vikings chowing down food while conversing with others over typical topics; their day, the dragon raids and stories about their warrior victories.
Vikings were a boastful bunch who wore pride like a helmet, especially when they shared stories of vicious dragons they killed.
While coming to the Great Hall, he had bumped into Astrid, who hardly said a word.
She was on her way to the woods to practice.
The Hofferson girl never took a break from practising her axe throwing skills.
Well, coming from a family who encouraged her to become a shield maiden, to earn back their glory, Astrid knew they were counting on her.
If she could train hard enough to be a shield maiden, Astrid knew she had a chance at being one of Berk's warriors they have ever since.
It was privilege to fight in battle in honour of her family and her tribe.
Hiccup wished things could go back to the way it was; back when he and Astrid used to be close friends, back when things were simpler.
As the brunet moved through the crowded hall, he tried to find Gobber amidst the crowd.
Hiccup stared at the ground, avoiding the countless glares directed his way.
"Oi! Hiccup! Over here!" Hiccup spun around to find Gobber seated on a lone table in the corner.
Pushing through the crowd, Hiccup sauntered over to the old blacksmith.
"I'm surprised to find you sitting by yourself," Hiccup muttered as he sat opposite his mentor.
Gobber chugged down his mug of ale, letting out a pleasant sigh.
"So, mind telling me what happened back there at the store?" he asked, his tone slightly serious.
Hiccup said nothing. He stared at the wooden table, replaying the incident over and over again.
Never had he felt so humiliated before.
Sighing, he finally met Gobber's gaze.
"It's nothing. I was just being clumsy. As always,"
Gobber arched a brow, hardly convinced by the young heir's response.
"Lad, you know you make a good liar,"
Hiccup sighed, rolled his eyes then threw his hands up in exasperation.
"Fine! I was distracted," he admitted, lowering his eyes shamefully, "I couldn't stop thinking about what Astrid told me that night when we were at the Great Hall. You know, when there was that storm and we were evacuated there for the night,"
Gobber leaned forward, nodding, "So, what did the lass say?"
Hiccup fell silent. He honestly didn't want to talk about this because it brought him pain to remind himself of the girl who used to be his friend walked out on him.
"A lot of things," Hiccup sighed, resting his head on the table, "We used to be great friends- best friends, but now I am a burden to her. Her father doesn't want her to talk to me or have anything to do with me," he groaned, covering his hands over his face, "I am a burden to her,"
Gobber's face faltered when he heard that. He pitied the boy for losing the only friend he ever had.
He knew Hiccup and Astrid used to be close friends growing up. They used to spend hours in their childhood days hunting for trolls. Something the blacksmith believed to exist in the woods, who swiped anybody's left socks. Odd, but he believed those wee devils were out there waiting to steal another pair of smelly old socks.
"You're not a burden, lad," Gobber reassured him, "Maybe you'll both be friends again. I am sure of it,"
Hiccup laughed dryly, "Like that is going to happen. Face it, I'm a nuisance. Maybe I'm cursed not to have friends. I am only holding her back, believe me," he let out a crestfallen breath, "She'll become a great shield maiden one day while I'll be nothing but-''
"You'll be chief, Hiccup," Gobber corrected him; "You're Stoick's heir after all. You'll be a great chief someday, just like your father,"
Hiccup wanted to laugh. Never had he heard anything so absurd.
"Please, Gobber. Don't joke around," he scowled at his boots, "I'll never be a great chief. I'm not like my Dad. I'm...I'm a disappointment. I can't be a leader. Do you honestly think the villagers would listen to me- a hiccup? No,"
Gobber felt heartbroken to see his apprentice down grade himself.
Despite not looking like a real Viking, Gobber believed the young heir would become a great leader.
He had brain instead of brawn; something not many Vikings have.
He had the craziest, most creative ideas for his inventions. Yet, he was often overlooked in the crowd.
"Snotlout can always take my place," Hiccup muttered, slumping over his seat.
When Gobber heard that, an incredulous look formed over his face.
"You think that muttonhead will make a fine chief?" he let out a chuckle, "Ha! He isn't the sharpest arrow. Not the slightest. Sure he looks like a Viking-''
"Oh, gee, thanks for making me feel better," Hiccup said sarcastically.
"-but his ideas would be terrible. It wouldn't help the village at all," Gobber went on, ignoring his apprentice's sarcastic remark, "I'd like to see him drive those nasty dragons away,"
Hiccup frowned, "I can't even fight dragons to save my life. Literally. Dad always has to save me countless times. And he always has this disappointed scowl on his face," he groaned, "It's humiliating,"
Gobber opened his mouth to speak, then closed it as there was nothing he could say.
"Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Gobber," Hiccup said with dismay in his green eyes, "I'm sorry for this morning. I promise it won't happen again,''
Gobber waved it off, "Eh, accidents happen. If something is troubling you, you can always talk to me. You know, I did promise your father I would be there for you, especially since your mother..."
Hiccup stared at the blacksmith with curiosity.
"What was my mother like?" he asked the question he's kept for so long, "Dad never liked to talk to her. So I am assuming you know what she was like,"
Gobber thought about Stoick's late wife for a moment. A smile then formed on his face.
"Aye, your father loved her," he chuckled softly, "She was a great woman. Though, she did have the most unpopular opinions about dragons. Alas, she was taken so soon. You were just a wee child,"
Hiccup sighed, frowning, "I wish I knew her. I was beginning to forget about her,"
Silence fell over them as Hiccup pondered about what life would have been like if his mother was here. He sometimes wishes she was because, in all honesty, she must have been the only one who cared about him while everybody else neglected him. Aside from Gobber, of course.
It hurts to know his father would prioritise the village over him. Yet, he was the chief after all; the people depended on him to direct them.
But surely he could give up ten minutes of his time to teach Hiccup how to hunt or give some fatherly advice.
All Hiccup wanted was his father, not the Berkian chief living in his own home, who couldn't care less about his own son.
"Do you think my Dad will forgive me? Do you think everyone will? After that incident in the raid weeks ago, I doubt they will,"
Gobber frowned, "Well, it is hard to tell, but I am sure they will forget about it. With time, of course. I know it had been an accident,"
At least not everyone accused the incident as something Hiccup intends to deliberately do.
The brunet smiled weakly. Though, he wasn't convinced that the villagers will forgive him anytime soon.