Symphony of Shadows

9. Legs

Hiccup had spent a better part of the afternoon tinkering with his new invention. It had taken him a couple of trips to the Eastern Markets to acquire the parts he had needed, but his handiwork seemed to be holding up quite well after a test run.

After a close run-in at a raid on Outcast Island, Hiccup knew he had to lose the peg leg. Not lose-it-lose-it because it was already technically lost—but you get the point. He was too identifiable. He had been setting a Nadder free from a rope trap when he heard:
"Over there! I see him—he's the Svikari! Yes, that one—the one with the peg leg!"

Hiccup had managed to hitch a ride to Toothless on the back of the red Nadder, but cursed himself for being so careless. He would need to keep his identity as the dragon rider under wraps in order to avoid capture or, more likely, getting killed.

So, Hiccup did what he did best: engineered a solution. He had made an attachable leg that had a core of Death Song amber to ensure durability, a seal-blubber coating and beige paint to give it a more realistic look. Indeed, Vikings almost always wore pants, and if he were captured, further inspection would prove that the leg was indeed a prosthetic. However, if Hiccup were to visit a fishing port for supplies or travel to the market for supplies, he would be just another unassuming Viking.

Hiccup slid on the prosthetic and attached the cup to his leg using a smear of tar. The stuff was hard to wash off but was effective in the long run, as the tests he conducted were successful and the new leg was much more comfortable than the wooden and metal peg. The new prosthetic leg was made so he could even wear a boot and further conceal himself. Hiccup stood up and walked out of his tent, admiring his handiwork as he approached Toothless.

"What do you think, bud? Do you think it'll hold up?" Hiccup gave his leg a shake and didn't feel the prosthetic budge. Toothless eyed his new leg curiously and mewled in confusion.

"It's just another prosthetic, bud. I didn't grow my leg back if that's what you're wondering." Hiccup chuckled at the dragon's curious nature and realized with a smile what Toothless was truly thinking when he saw the drool on the dragon's mouth.

"No Toothless, it's not a toy. You can't play with this one—it's not as durable." Toothless reached out and playfully pawed at his leg,

"You like me better with one leg? Is this what this is?" he joked and went back to his tent to retrieve his spare peg leg that Toothless loved to play with. The blue Nadder trotted over from behind the trees and squawked playfully, signaling that she, too, wanted to join in on the fun of chewing his fake leg.

"You want this, you want my leg? Well, go get it!" He threw the object deep into the trees, then made his way to the cliff's edge—right where Toothless had been before darting off after his favorite toy. Hiccup loved looking out at the archipelago that held so much adventure and wonder. Never in his life would he have been able to experience the richness the world had to offer if he had stayed at Berk. Hiccup remembered the fateful day he'd had to compete against Astrid in dragon training, he knew if he took down the Gronckle, he would most likely advance. Yet, he couldn't resist sparing the dragon when he glimpsed Astrid rushing the sweet Gronckle with a war cry and a glistening axe ready to chop.

In that moment, he had tried to rationalize his actions but knew deep down what he had to do in order to make the best decision for him, for the dragons, and even for the village: leave. That night, he had snuck off to the arena and released the dragons from their stalls. They had grown to trust him through the training sessions and were grateful Hiccup had given them a chance to escape. Then, he and Toothless had traveled to the Red Death's nest to scavenge for any human remains and while it had made Hiccup rather nauseous, he had gathered up the bones that could pass as Hiccup-sized.

They flew back to the eastern woods, which were closest to the village, so the search for him would be short. He ordered Toothless to fire a couple of plasma blasts at the ground and a tree, and lay the bones at random for an authentic dragon attack effect. Hiccup had wanted to fake his death in such a gruesome way, Berk would regret belittling him and feel sickened remorse. He had wanted to make a statement.

No one had ever bothered to care, truly care about him. They had just made snarky comments and spiked jabs that slowly chipped away at him. Hiccup knew he wasn't the strongest or fastest but it was another thing to hear it every second of every day.

"Toughen up, Hiccup"
"Why is he here?"
"Ugh great, here comes Hiccup"
"Ever think of pitching yourself off a cliff? More food for us..."
"You'll never be one of us"
"Yes! That's it! Stop being all of you!"
"You son of a half-troll, rat-eating, munge-bucket!"
"I've never seen anyone mess up that badly!"

Back then, he didn't have a soul to confide in. Hels, the closest person he had to a friend was a forty year old that hated showers. Hearing a constant barrage of insults had been too much for Hiccup. It was a wonder he'd been able to contain his tears to his bed pillow and not explode at the whole village. Nothing he ever did was good enough. He was never good enough. Too sensitive, too weak, too afraid; he was always where he shouldn't be. So when he got the upper hand in dragon training, it was a shock when all of a sudden everyone liked him.

They all liked him when he hid who he truly was, and the thought had caused him to question everything. Would it be worth faking his way into becoming a dragon-killing Viking so he was accepted? No. He would never be able to be truly happy or free, he'd be chained to the expectations of others, constantly obeying orders without a second thought. His strengths of engineering, creativity, and problem solving would be tossed to the side in favor of being receptive to orders. Hiccup would rather fake his death a thousand times than conform to the dangerous societal norms Berk had constructed.

A loud crash brought him back to the present and he ran toward the source. The scene before him made him groan: one Nadder and one Night Fury completely covered in squid ink.
Hiccup walked over to the two guilty-looking dragons and crossed his arms.
"How did you get into the ink stores, bud? I just replenished our stock."

"Rawooorrr," explained Toothless. It had been a mistake during a skirmish for the prized leg, completely unintentional.

"It's okay, bud. I guess we can finally try out this new leg at the Eastern Markets tomorrow and get some more supplies. We probably need more of that healing salve, just in case. Whatcha think, Toothless? Up for a shopping trip tomorrow?" Hiccup scratched his friend's chin and pet the smooth scales atop Toothless' head.

"Rooo," cooed Toothless, seeming to come to a compromise over the mistake.

"Okay, let's relax for the rest of the day and then get ready to fly solo tomorrow. I know you don't like wearing your solo flying tail, but it's crucial you aren't spotted other than in raids. You can stay in the usual cave but if anyone comes peeking around, you need to have an escape option. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you, bud."

He rested his forehead against Toothless' and closed his eyes, letting the quiet hum of dragon breath and ocean winds settle into his bones. Tomorrow could bring danger—but tonight, they still had each other.