Found again (HTTYD FF)

★2★

Hiccup was sitting at the end of an icy icicle, gazing at a colourful sunset. It didn't radiate coldness like ordinary ice. This ice was the creation of the giant Bewilderbeast, king of the dragons. He was one of the last of his kind to be a natural Alpha in the nests. It was never otherwise. Wherever he went, he ruled, unless another Bewilderbeast or another species of ruling dragon ruled.

He was lost in his thoughts - or rather, memories. He tried to remember. To remember his life before the last part of his transformation, whatever had come before his transformation. His memories were hazy, hidden behind a curtain of oblivion. In all these years, he hadn't been able to decipher any of the few images of his earliest memory.

He saw his parents - he thought it was them - bending over him. Their blurred faces were full of joy. Full of indescribable pleasure. In the next fragment of his memory he saw someone, probably his mother, sitting by his bedside with worry written across her face. Then he remembered his name, a gruff voice calling his name, over and over, saying, "Hiccup! Hiccup come here!" The voice was not unpleasant, it was full of love.

His last memory was strange. He had no idea where he had come by it. How it came to be. He remembered the voice. A voice so inviting, so sweet. But every time he thought of it, fear grew in his heart. The seed of that fear had been there for a long time... and probably forever. He just hoped he'd never hear that voice again. That he wouldn't get too close.

That was all he could remember. His best friend said it was for the best anyway. And Hiccup agreed with him. At least he wasn't pining for something he couldn't have at the moment anyway. A family. A real family. True, he considered the dragons his family, but that wasn't enough. They weren't his real family, he wanted to know them, he wanted to see them again. His mom, his dad, maybe even some siblings. Who knows? He'll never know.

The reason all this was impossible was simple, though actually complicated. It was something about his appearance. Something that would have sent him straight to his death, regardless of the place or the circumstances.

It was his eyes. The green so vivid and vibrant mingled with the dark hue of constant fear, spoiling the whole scene of glowing, whites-free eyes. Only green. Pupils as narrow as a scratch from a sharp claw, at times - when feeling safe, happy or in the great darkness - squared like little rounded squares.

It was his ears. They weren't human. They stretched to just above the crown of his brown hair, covered with black scales that stretched a little further around them, covering part of his scalp - under his hair and a few small scales on his cheeks. They resembled the ears of the Night Fury's, sensitive to the subtlest sounds, adapted to turning in all directions.

It was his wings. They grew from the shoulder blades like a third pair of limbs. So big that he could hide in them and almost drag them along the ground when he walked. Majestic wings the color of night, almost identical to those of the Night Fury's. Their scales extended all the way to his back, where they took up much of his otherwise pale skin.

It was his tail. Twice as long as his lower limbs. At the end of it, two beautiful tail fins, healthy and strong. Black as night, the scales on the underside much harder and less sensitive than the others - forever dragging him along the ground.

He wore leather clothing, painted black with fireproof paint made from the fallen scales from his wings and tail. On this he had scales still attached in one piece, to resemble a dragon as much as possible. He wasn't human, but he wasn't a dragon either. He did everything he could to look like one of the dragons. Like one of his "family." To fit in. But even when he tried, he still acted more like a human. He walked like a human, talked like a human, thought like a human.

He was inventive by nature, constantly needing to create something - another trait he had due to being more human than dragon. One of his creations was his clothes. It was a better way to hide from unwanted attention, to blend into the dark.

Shortly after he learned to fly, really fly, he was spotted. Just out of the corner of their eye, they saw him sitting at the height of a tall pine tree, and that was enough to almost get him. If he hadn't immediately flown high out of range, he would never have lived to see another day. Of that he was convinced. From then on he stayed in the nest. Safe. He didn't fly to human villages to scout.

It didn't last long, though, because the Alpha, being half human, began sending him out to rescue trapped dragons not long after. He had hands, he was small, and he'd gotten into places no one else but the Terrible terrors could go. Fortunately, he didn't go alone. He always had his best friend, his brother, by his side.

Despite that, he had been seen many times. More than once, he found himself in a cell. Caged like an animal. No escape, no hope. Just a long wait for death to come. With a long wait for more pain. With constant fear. He didn't know what they wanted him to do. They never got far enough to tell him. But they got far over the edge of the breaking point. So far that he didn't understand how he was still alive.

The Vikings called his friend "The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself," but Hiccup didn't understand what that had to do with the cutest dragon he'd ever known. In fact, he was the first one he'd ever met. He was the one who had taken him to the nest. He was the one who made sure his transformation went smoothly. It was he, who ensured his survival. If he'd turned in the middle of a dragon-killing village, he wouldn't have turned around and had a dagger to his throat.

Hiccup's only regret was that he couldn't meet his family. He didn't know where he was from. He didn't know who he was. If he wasn't a human or a dragon, what was he? A Freak, they called him.

"I know what you're thinking about," came a voice behind him. It was Toothless, his friend, his brother. Hiccup cursed his instincts. They should have warned him that he wasn't alone. This happened all too often. They weren't working the way he wanted them to. They weren't true dragon instincts. They were too muted by the human part of him. If an enemy was sneaking up on him right now, he'd be in trouble. He needed to spend more time improving his instincts.

Night Fury sat down next to him and wrapped his long tail around his paws. "Don't worry about it already. I can't sleep because of you."

Hiccup laughed softly at the dragon's complaining. He should be the one complaining, but he never did. He kept his problems to himself until he couldn't keep them anymore and shout them all, tears in his eyes, into the sky where no one could hear them. But it brought little relief.

"Don't worry. I won't think about it anymore. Not today, I promise," he said, leaning back against him. Though he understood the dragon's speech perfectly, as if he were a dragon himself, he couldn't speak it. No human, not even a half-dragon like him, was capable of speaking dragon speech. It was only and only of dragons.

Toothless grunted in agreement, and together they waited for the darkness, for the twinkling stars above the rain-filled clouds. For a sign that it was safe to leave the nest. As long as it was dark, they were safe from human sight. From the dragon hunters. From Viggo, the only man who was looking for them.

He was looking for Hiccup. Why, he didn't know. But he had to be on the lookout every step of the way. For danger lurked everywhere. Even in a place like this dragon's nest. Nowhere was safe. Hiccup could feel it in his bones.

Death lurked everywhere.

I won't be able to publish this chapter on Monday, so I'm doing it a bit earlier. I hope you enjoyed...