Hiccup was only semi-aware of his surroundings when he awoke.
Every muscle in his body felt like it had been stretched to the absolute limit, sending small shockwaves reverberating through his system with each movement. His left leg in particular felt like it was being stabbed off and on with a variety of rusty daggers.
His eyelids felt as though they each weighed several tons and it took immense effort to force them open. He blinked blearily, trying to take stock of his surroundings. The exertion quickly proved to be too much and his eyes slipped closed.
He was somewhere warm. From the brief glimpse he'd gotten, he was also inside a wooden structure. Someone's home, if he were to guess.
It was a jarring thought, when he considered the weight of the wings on his back. It was daylight, and he was inside someone's home.
He needed to get up.
He needed to hide.
He was so tired.
The next time he woke, he was far more cognizant.
He could feel the soft texture of furs beneath the skin of his right hand, relishing in the comfort that it brought.
Opening his eyes proved to be easier this time, and in doing so he found that he recognized the space. All the furniture had been pushed up against the walls, but it was unmistakably the main room of his father's home.
He propped himself up on his elbows, wincing as his muscles protested the action. The floor had been covered in a thick mound of pillows, blankets and furs and he lay right in the center.
Hiccup clenched his jaw with the effort it took to push himself fully upright. He sat there for a moment, letting the pain subside. Feeling unsteady, he extended his arms out behind him, using them to brace against the floor.
The moon shone brightly through the window, casting its cool light on him. It was the only thing that illuminated the room, as the fire in the hearth had been reduced to dying embers.
Stoick the Vast sat slumped in a chair beside the fire, head tilted back behind him against the wall. Even in sleep, his face was pinched tightly in concern, as if something were haunting him in his dreams. He twitched fitfully, breathing unsteady.
"Dad?" Hiccup called out, hoping to release the man from his nightmare.
His father shifted, hands moving up to massage his eyes. He yawned widely, adjusting to sit more upright in the chair. When the chief opened his eyes, his attention went straight to his son, eyes widening in surprise.
"You're awake!"
Stoick was on his feet in moments, hurrying to his son's side.
"I think so," agreed Hiccup, somewhat wishing he wasn't if that meant the pain wasn't real. "What happened?"
The chief knelt next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You did it, son. You killed the queen."
Hiccup sucked in a breath, memories flooding back to him.
Fire.
Falling.
Pain.
"...is everyone okay?"
Stoick's eyes grew sad and he shifted his position so that he was sitting beside his son. "We lost many men to the beast," he said with deep regret, "but most survived."
Hiccup considered the news, a new fear rising. "Astrid?"
"She's fine. Mild concussion, but Gothi said it should pass soon."
"Gobber?"
Stoick snorted, "nothing could bring him down."
Hiccup felt some of the pressure in his chest release, knowing his loved ones were safe. A part of him knew he'd have to see them in person to really believe it after witnessing the brutality of the queen, but he still clung to the words like a lifeline.
"There is one other thing you need to know," said Stoick, looking grave and a little bit…guilty?
Hiccup waited, trying to prepare himself for whatever bombshell the chief was about to drop.
"When you fell," his father said, "you were caught in the blast."
He'd suspected as much…but why did the man look so upset? He'd clearly survived the ordeal.
Stoick slowly reached out towards the fur that covered Hiccup's legs. He met his son's eyes one last time, looking apologetic, before peeling it back.
Oh.
Hiccup stared.
It's gone.
And stared.
"From what we can tell, when you crashed, all of your weight landed on that leg," continued Stoick in a soft voice, "the bone shattered and it ripped through your skin. Then when the blast caught it, it burned your leg from the inside out."
Burned from the inside out. The very same technique he'd used to end the queen.
"Part of it was cauterized instantly, but not all of it. We were afraid you'd bleed out on the beach. If your…healing was working, it wasn't doing so fast enough to save you."
Hiccup sucked in a breath, seeing spots in his vision. His airways felt tight, his head light.
"Breathe, son," instructed Stoick, patting his son carefully on the back. After a few ragged breaths, he continued, "It kicked in after we properly cauterized the stump."
Hiccup ran a hand over the place where his leg now ended, perfectly smoothed over as if it had always stopped right beneath the knee.
The shock of it all was overwhelming, as he realized the true extent of the price he'd paid for Berk's safety. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and he let himself collapse into his father's arms.
They sat in silence, save for Hiccup's cries.
After some time, he was able to choke off the sobs, pulling out of Stoick's embrace. He swiped at his eyes roughly, trying to clear the evidence of his pain.
Stoick went to retrieve something metal that was propped against the wall. He held it out to Hiccup, looking hesitant.
"Gobber built this for you," he explained, "for when you're ready to get back on your feet. If the measurements are off, tell me and he'll adjust."
Hiccup took the prosthetic, turning it over in his hands. It was more complex than anything he'd seen from a replacement limb, showing that the blacksmith had taken great care in crafting it for him.
Steeling his nerves, he lined it up with his stump. His father's gentle hands helped him steady the prosthetic, talking him through the process of strapping it into place. It took a few tries, but eventually he got it to a place where it felt secure.
"The wound also carries over to your dragon form," informed Stoick, "but Gobber isn't sure how to build a suitable replacement for a Night Fury. He wishes to discuss it with you later – something about supporting the weight of dragon and your knee joint."
Hiccup, having just struggled with the prosthetic for his human self, couldn't imagine how he'd achieve a similar feat without thumbs.
He voiced that concern and then assured, "I've still got three legs, don't I? Between that and the wings, I'll figure out how to get by without one."
The words sounded wooden to his ears, but he wanted them to be true. Surely with a bit of practice, he could make them true. He'd already had to relearn walking once, when he'd first been cursed. He could do it again.
Stoick smiled, "spoken like a true warrior." He cleared his throat, deep emotion coloring his tone when he added, "I'm so proud to call you my son."
Hiccup felt his own chest tighten with emotion at those words. "Thanks, dad."
Somehow, in the midst of curses and dragon queens, something had shifted between him and his father. Hearing those words now, a sentiment he'd once longed to hear, meant so much – but it meant even more now that hadn't been actively striving for them.
He had simply been himself – curse and all.
"How'd we get back to Berk, anyways?" He wondered, still trying to patch together everything he'd missed.
Stoick stood, walking over to revive the fire. As he added more timber, he explained. "There was one ship that survived the attack. We used it to transport the most critically injured, such as yourself, back as soon as we could. Once we returned to Berk, Spitelout led our remaining boats back to the island to collect everyone else."
Hiccup did the math in his head, knowing it took multiple days to reach the island. "How long was I out?"
Stoick took a torch to the logs and the fireplace crackled back to life, "Nearly a week – many were worried you wouldn't wake, but I knew you'd fight your way back to us." He turned around, raising an eyebrow. "You've always had that stubborn streak."
"Yeah, wonder where I got that from…" Hiccup muttered, before he registered what his father had implied. "People are worried about me? People know about me?"
"You single-handedly took down the biggest dragon anyone on Berk has ever seen, then proceeded to crash land on the beach in front of the entire tribe. Yes, they know about you."
Hiccup stared at his mismatched hands, "Exactly how much do they know?"
"Everything."
"Everything, everything?"
"Aye."
Oh Thor.
Hiccup contemplated the revelation, feeling like the very earth beneath him had shifted. His secret…was no longer a secret. All the hiding, all the lying…it was done?
"So," he asked carefully, trying not to make assumptions. "Considering I'm not dead or in a cage, what's the verdict? Exile?"
"Hiccup, you saved all of Berk."
He snorted, shifting uncomfortably under his father's gaze. His metal leg clicked with the movement, drawing his attention to the replacement limb once more. "Does that mean I get to stay until I learn to walk or something? I mean, not that I'm complaining–"
"You get to stay for good."
Wait, what?
Hiccup was slowly getting the hang of walking with the prosthetic. It had made him a bit clumsier, but he hoped that with time and practice that could be fixed. For now, he was just grateful to be mobile. He didn't think he could handle much more of his father's coddling.
Living in Berk with the curse completely out in the open had been almost stranger than losing his limb. People who had barely glanced his way growing up now regarded him with something akin to respect, like he was some kind of war hero.
Despite the welcoming nature of the village, he was still hesitant to move about during the day. It was one thing for Berk to know he spent his days as a dragon, it was another thing entirely for them to see it. He wasn't sure he was ready for that confrontation, even if it was inevitable. Still, there was comfort in knowing that no one would raise a weapon if they found a Night Fury in town.
Gobber had offered him his old position back in the forge, taking great delight in having a partially fireproof apprentice to work nights. For Hiccup, getting to return to his craft had been like reuniting with an old friend.
"You're getting pretty quick," a familiar voice called, interrupting his concentration.
Hiccup staggered a few steps, managing to barely catch his balance and prevent a fall. Grinning in triumph, he turned to greet the viking girl, "Hey Astrid. Yeah, really setting some speed records over here."
She snorted, closing the gap between them. "Alright, c'mon," she said, pulling one of his arms around her shoulder to help support his weight.
"You don't have to–"
"I want to," she insisted, "we make a good team, don't we?"
He felt warmed by her words, allowing himself to relax against her. "Yeah, I guess we do."
"You know," she said after a moment, "I heard the strangest rumor today."
Hiccup kept his eyes on the path ahead, ensuring he wouldn't stumble. "Oh?"
"Apparently, all the arena dragons escaped last night."
"Huh. Imagine that."
Astrid snorted. "Since the raids appear to be over, no one seems overly concerned about it right now. It is strange though…all the doors were undamaged, as if someone just let them out."
"Is that so?"
She rolled her eyes, weaving to keep them on the smoother part of the path. "I would have helped you, you know. If you asked."
"I know," he admitted, sidestepping a crack in the trail, "but this was something I needed to do for myself. I've been in their place – I wanted to be the one to release them."
He'd never forget his time spent in the arena, and he'd only spent a matter of weeks inside. Once he was mobile enough to get around on his own, emptying the remaining cells had been top of mind. Some of those dragons had been in there since before he'd been cursed. Now that the queen was gone, there was no reason to prolong their captivity.
"What do you think they'll do now, without a queen?"
"I don't know," admitted Hiccup, "I'd guess we have a lot to learn about dragons before we can begin to understand them."
"So where do we start?"
"I might have a few ideas…"
The duo made quick work of heading to town, filling the quiet night with a mixture of soft clicks and the occasional burst of laughter. When they had nearly reached the hall, Astrid stopped. She carefully shifted her position, allowing him to stand on his own.
When Hiccup moved to put distance between them, she reached out and grasped his left hand tightly in her grip. A silent promise to stay by his side.
Feeling a rush of gratitude, he squeezed her hand back. "I wanted to thank you," he said, locking his gaze on her blue eyes. "I always thought that if anyone found out about me, I was finished…but instead, you took my side. That night, back in the ring – you didn't have to help me, but you did."
Astrid hummed, eyes roaming his face.
"Why'd you do it, anyways?" He asked, curiosity too strong to ignore. "You could have told everyone what I am, but instead you tried to help me escape. Why?"
She took a step closer, breath warm on his face as she responded. "What happened to you could have happened to any of us," she said, "I guess I looked at you, and I saw what could have easily been myself if circumstances were different. I just knew…if the roles were reversed, you would have helped me without hesitation."
Hiccup blinked, taken aback by the honest answer. "I would have," he admitted with conviction, closing the distance further.
Astrid's mouth twitched up into a small smile. "I know."
This close, he realized her eyes were flecked with lighter bits of blue. He'd never noticed that detail and now found himself studying her face more closely to see what else he'd missed. His gaze wandered down her face, stopping momentarily on her lips.
A small shift of movement would bring them together, and his face went hot at the realization. Should he close the distance, or would that ruin things with Astrid?
The choice was made for him as Astrid leaned forward and kissed him softly. Her own face was pink when she pulled back, he noticed with surprise. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her flushed like that before, which raised a whole new series of questions.
"What was that for?" He asked, in disbelief.
"For being you," she said simply, not elaborating any further. Then she tugged him towards the door, eyes going bright with anticipation. "Ready?"
"I don't know," he admitted, still feeling breathless. "Seems a bit overkill to throw a whole celebration in my honor, don't you think? I bet you nobody even shows up."
Astrid rolled her eyes, reaching out to grasp the door handle. "Shut up."
"I–"
He forgot what he'd been about to say, taking in the sight of the hall. Despite his fear that the space would be empty, every single table was filled with exuberant vikings. The chatter quieted down for a moment when they caught sight of him, before a shout sent a ripple of cheers through the audience.
He took his first shaky steps inside, face flushing under the attention.
Astrid squeezed his hand, "Welcome home, Hiccup."