Hiccup surveyed the empty Timberjack cage with critical eyes. It was definitely larger than his last cell, with plenty of space for a Night Fury to move about, though no more welcoming. It had been maintained well enough throughout the years, far cleaner than he'd expected.
"Think it'll do?" Gobber asked from beside him.
Hiccup shrugged. It would have to – it was the largest option in the entire arena.
Stoick seethed behind them, arms folded tightly over his chest. He glared at the enclosure with distaste, making it known that he still did not approve of the plan.
"I'll get started on th' trick latch," said the blacksmith, appraising the current door. He scratched his temple, considering the task. "Should be able to 'ave it done in a day or so, I think."
Hiccup thanked him, leaving the man to examine the mechanics of the current door in more detail. He approached his father with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "It'll be fine," he said, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt. "I sleep most of the day anyways – does it really matter where? Besides, you're gone all day in town. It's not like we'd be spending the time together."
Stoick grit his teeth. "That's not the point," he argued. "Look at that place! It's a prison, designed to hold a monster."
"A dragon," corrected Hiccup, wishing his father would acknowledge the difference. "Which is exactly what I'll be when I'm here. Think of it as…an occupational hazard."
"Hiccup," his father began with a warning tone. "This isn't a joke! Dragons have died in this very ring."
He'd known that. It wasn't exactly a secret, in fact to some it was a point of pride. Berkians loved to celebrate the fact that they'd conquered dragons throughout their generations on the island. It wasn't encouraged to strike down the training dragons, as the effort to replace them was tremendous, but no viking had ever been seriously punished for killing one of the dragons.
"No Night Furies have."
Gobber joined them, tucking his notes into his pocket as he read the tension between the Haddocks. He looked hesitant to speak, but did so anyway. "Now, Stoick…we're gonna 'ave to show th' tribe that we've 'recaptured' the Night Fury."
"Out of the question."
"Th' escape is all the village 'as been talkin' about this week," he argued. "If anyone's spot's 'im and we've kept it a secret, it's gonna raise questions that we can' answer."
Hiccup raised an eyebrow. He'd expected the village to be surprised by his escape, but he hadn't expected them to fixate on it for long.
"If they see him, they'll expect him to be part of training," said Stoick with a frown.
"Aye."
Hiccup groaned inwardly. He'd hated having to fight in the ring, but he could understand why it would be necessary to keep up the ruse. The village wouldn't keep a dragon alive unless it offered some value to them.
"I was thinkin' you'd take credit for catchin' 'im," offered Gobber, nodding towards his old apprentice. "We could say 'e's too dangerous for the kids to fight, but that they could still learn somethin' by watchin' you in the ring."
"Me?"
"Stoick, think abou' it. You put on a little show for abou' an hour each day, teach the students somethin' abou' fightin' Night Furies, an' no one else gets in th' ring with Hiccup."
Hiccup met his father's eyes, seeing the indecision. "It's okay," he assured. "Astrid and I faked our last few fights, I'm sure you and I can make it convincing enough."
"I'll not hurt my son."
"It has to look real," reminded Hiccup, running a hand through his hair. "As long as you don't hit me too hard, I'll be fine."
"I can't–"
"I heal fast," reminded Hiccup, arching a brow. "Pretty sure you cracked my jaw with your hammer last time, and it was just a bruise by nightfall. If you go too easy on me, people are going to ask questions."
His father's attention was drawn to his jaw, reassuring himself that the injury was gone without a trace. With a resigned sigh, Stoick said, "we can try it for now, but only until we find a better solution. You're not staying in the ring any longer than you have to."
Hiccup readily agreed, casting another look at the dark cell. The less time he had to spend in it, the better.
"We'll get ya' set up with some furs," promised Gobber. "I'll make sure it's a bit more comfortable."
"Won't that raise questions?" Hiccup asked, perplexed by the idea. He couldn't imagine the tribe brushing off such luxuries in a dragon's pen.
The blacksmith grinned, "I got a plan for that," he assured. "Gonna build somethin' for you to hide 'em behind before your sessions. Thinkin' maybe puttin' up a sort o' false wall to the side and sayin' the cage needed some reinforcin'? As long as no one can see the gap behind it from the ring, it should be an easy enough solution."
Stoick eyed the horizon, "We'll have to finish this conversation later. Hiccup, we've got to hurry if we're going to get you back before sunrise."
Hiccup shook his head. "No, I should stay here today…you know, test it out."
"Good thinkin', lad," said Gobber, taking the decision in stride. "See if there's anythin' we can do to make better for ya." He frowned. "But th' latch won' be done by sundown. You'll be as good as trapped."
Hiccup shrugged. "Nothing new there," he reminded them. "Just have someone come let me out after sunset."
When the door swung open at nightfall, Hiccup was surprised to see that it was Astrid who had come for him.
"So after all the effort we spent getting you out of here, you willingly came back?" She asked, face twisted in anger.
Hiccup pushed past her into the moonlight. "My dad told you?"
She leveled a glare at him, "Obviously," she said. "So what? You're just gonna live in the arena for the rest of your life? Letting people attack you every day?"
"Not for the rest of my life," he said, though a part of him wondered if that was a real possibility. He hoped not. "Just until we can think of a better plan. This lets me stay in Berk without putting anyone else in danger or raising any questions we can't answer."
"You're putting yourself in danger."
"I've been in danger since that dragon cursed me," he argued, tired of having to explain himself. "This is no different. Besides, I'm only going to be fighting my dad and he hates this plan just as much as you do."
"But–"
"Astrid…I don't want to fight about this. At this point, I don't have a whole lot of options. Short of leaving Berk, I can't think of a perfect solution that's gonna make everyone here happy. Can you just...try to understand why I'm agreeing to this?"
She gestured for him to continue, though it looked like she wanted to stay something.
"I just got my family back," he explained, "and if this is the price I have to pay to keep it, I'm willing to give it a try."
Fighting Stoick in the arena is a surreal experience.
Growing up, he'd always expected to fight beside his father – never against him. Yet, he found himself squaring off against the man in the training ring each day as opponents rather than allies.
The reintroduction of the Night Fury had drawn crowds. Training was not usually a spectator sport until the champion's ceremonial dragon slaying, yet dozens of people turned up each day to see the legendary dragon battle their chief.
Considering these same people had always assumed him too weak for battle, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Hiccup allowed himself to show off a bit more, now that he wasn't afraid of his father or Gobber using the information against him. He took flight often in the ring, using it as a chance to catch his breath during more heated matches. He carefully discharged plasma blasts, always hitting a few feet from his father.
A Night Fury never misses, he thought to himself, grateful for the accuracy.
Stoick acted the part as well, swinging his weapons with battle-honed precision. He garnered the cheers of the onlookers, who all thought him brave to get so close to such a dangerous dragon. All the while, his gaze spoke volumes to his unhappiness with their current plan.
True to his promise, Gobber had installed a complicated mechanism to the cell door that allowed Hiccup to come and go as he pleased. Hiccup had hours studying it, mentally picking it apart as he deciphered the design. It was genius, and he wondered what else it could be applied to.
Each night, he sprung himself from the pen, making his way back towards the Haddock house. His father would be waiting there with a meal prepared, sometimes joined by Astrid or Gobber.
The arrangement went on for a week before Stoick voiced his displeasure once more.
"What if we showed the whole village the truth," he suggested, "Gather them all before sunset, and then explain it like you did to me or Astrid. If they knew it was you, we could end this farce and you could come home."
Hiccup's stomach dropped, and he slowly pushed his meal away. "Berk hated me enough when I was human," he reminded, thinking back on the way he'd been ridiculed in his youth. "I can't even imagine how they'd feel if they knew I was a dragon. They'd probably want to, I don't know, sacrifice me to the gods or something!"
"You know I'd never allow that."
"You might not have a choice," muttered Hiccup, still horrified by the suggestion. "The current plan is working just fine. Let's just leave it alone."
Stoick huffed, "The current plan was supposed to be temporary. It cannot be allowed to go on indefinitely. Whatever we try next will be less demeaning than having my heir locked in a gods-forsaken cage."
Heir.
Hiccup felt a pang in his chest, reminded once more of what the curse had taken. He'd never been thrilled with the impending chiefdom, but it had still been his to dread. Something inherently unique to him, a defined place for him within the tribe.
"I'm not your heir anymore, dad" he said softly, "I can never be. It's best for everyone if Berk believes Hiccup Haddock died in that raid."
Silence fell on the Haddock house as the two reflected on the harsh truth.
Stoick's day ended in chaos.
He'd been making his way home from the docks, having picked up a few things from the traders in port, when the attack came.
"RAID!"
The frantic warnings began as the residents took note of dark shapes on the horizon.
Stoick quickly set aside his things, reaching for his trusty war hammer. He assessed the incoming threat, counting at least ten distinct creatures approaching.
The dragons screeched as they dove down on Berk, letting loose streams of fire that filled the air with smoke. Stoick watched in dismay as one of the trading ships he'd just visited went up in flames.
He leapt into action, doing his best to beat back the beasts as they attacked. He grunted in satisfaction as he caught a Nadder in the eye, the dragon taking off in fury.
Fury.
Stoick's heart plummeted. It was almost sundown – Hiccup would be walking out into the fight, defenseless.
He took off towards the path to the ring, swinging at any beast in range as he made his way across town. The air was getting hot with dragon fire and he could feel the sweat dripping down his face.
When he got to the path, he took a careful look around to ensure he wasn't followed. Satisfied that the tribe was focused on the invaders, he ran the rest of the way, stepping inside just as night fell.
"Hiccup!" He called, hurrying over to the metal door. With a grunt, he yanked it open, seeking out his son in the enclosure.
The young man sat in a corner against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest. He had his eyes squeezed shut, hands locked tightly over his ears.
"Hiccup?"
The boy whimpered, pain evident in his expression. Stoick wasn't convinced he'd been heard at all.
Concerned, the chief tucked his hands under Hiccup's back and knees, hoisting the boy into his arms. He moved as quickly as he dared, slipping out of the cage and leaning his weight back against it to close the door.
Stoick took the long way through the woods to ensure they were not spotted by dragons or vikings. Each second felt like several minutes as he felt his son's chest heave against his arm.
Once safely inside their home, Stoick laid his son down carefully. He checked for injuries, wondering if something had happened during their training session that he'd missed – but there was no visible damage. Whatever was happening to Hiccup was a mystery.
He sat with Hiccup for a while, anxiously pondering what he could do for the boy. He brushed the boy's auburn bangs out of his eyes, feeling his forehead for fever. The skin was cool to the touch, eliminating that theory.
A loud blast from outside caught Stoick's attention, and he hurried to the window to see what had happened.
Gothi's hut was on fire.
Swearing, Stoick gave his son one last worried look before hurrying out into the night. He had a duty to his people that he could not neglect, and he prayed Hiccup would understand when he woke.
Stoick's muscles burned as he made his way back to his home. He sustained a few minor scrapes in the raid, mostly in his efforts to help salvage herbs and medicines from Gothi's hut, and they stung with each movement.
No lives had been lost, much to his relief, but it had been a blow to general morale to lose the healer's home. The elder was well respected by the tribe, and seeing her experience such a great loss had upset many.
Stoick had organized a team to get started on the repairs, ordering them to get to work as soon as they had rested. The sooner the hut was reconstructed, the better.
He rubbed at his tired eyes, feeling the itch of prolonged smoke exposure. Despite his discomfort, he knew he couldn't rest. He needed to get back as quickly as possible to help Hiccup.
It was a relief to finally push the front door open, leaving the village's problems behind for the moment.
"Hiccup?" He called out, setting his weapons to the side and toeing out of his boots. "Are you feeling any better? I'm sorry I had to leave, Gothi's hut caught fire and I had to help–"
He broke off as he rounded the corner, taking in the sight of his son. The Night Fury warbled a greeting, green eyes full of understanding.
Was it already sunrise? Stoick's eyes drifted to the window, where the sky above Berk was still shrouded in smoke. Day had come, but he hadn't even noticed.
"You're feeling better?" Stoick asked again, disappointed that they couldn't share a real conversation.
Hiccup nodded emphatically, moving forward to nudge his nose into the man's shoulder in reassurance. He stepped back, tipping his head to the side and fixing his father with a questioning look.
"I'm alright," answered the chief, dismissing his minor scrapes. "Berk will be too."
Hiccup smiled, revealing a gummy mouth. Stoick rubbed his eyes, confused by the sight. He could have sworn the dragon had teeth…
Noticing his stare, Hiccup rolled his eyes, sharp teeth snapping out and into view.
Stoick jumped, alarmed by their sudden appearance. The action seemed to amuse the Night Fury, who made a low coughing sound that the chief assumed was a laugh.
"Do you know what happened to you earlier?" Stoick asked, mind replaying the scene of his son's earlier pain.
Hiccup looked away.
"We'll discuss it tonight," said Stoick, leaving no room for argument. He nodded to the stairs, "get some rest. There'll be no training today, so no one will notice you're not in the ring."