Infernal Responsibility

Resolution

Let's try this again. Sunrise. A peaceful time of morning, when most villagers were just waking up. For Berk's hero, it was calm and quiet. But nothing could prepare him for the rude awakening he was about to receive.

The blankets were ripped off. Cold water splashed on him, and a hammer clanged loudly on a pot. Hiccup bolted from the bed like it had personally harmed him. "What in Odin's beard—!?" He shouted.

Evil cackling was his reward. "Time's a-wasting lover-boy!"

"Yeah, wouldn't want to miss your wedding! Uh, again!"

"You're already in hot water! Or cold water, as the case may be."

Shaking himself into the present. Hiccup's gaze landed on the smug faces of Ruff, Tuff, and Snotlout.

"What is wrong with you people!? I almost die, and I don't even get to sleep in!?" He snapped his fingers. "Rude!"

"Oh, come on you big baby! It's your big day! Got to have plenty of time to get ready!" Snotlout giggled. With that, the three pranksters hurried from his room.

He figured that since that was his last night sleeping alone, the trio decided it was their last chance to prank him like that. Try dumping a bucket of cold water on Astrid and your family would be planning a funeral pyre.

Hiccup looked over to Toothless, who was awake, but barely. He heard the group come in, but saw no threat. Instead, he watched with dull interest as chaos ensued. Hiccup rolled his eyes at the dragon. "Toothless? I should have called you Useless."

The dragon stood and sauntered over.

"Aw, don't come crying to me, big baby boo."

Toothless, instead, made sure he had a nice slathering of saliva on his face. Congratulations, by the way.

Hiccup wiped it off and shook it onto the floor. "Well, now that I am awake, I might as well get ready." He stood, and instantly he knew it was going to be a long day. "Oh sweet Odin's nipple that hurts!" Every muscle in his body burned. He was so sore!

Toothless nudged him, to help him move, seeing the stiffness that enveloped him. Still, Hiccup stepped around and looked at the soaked bed. He sighed and gathered the sheets. He knew that when Astrid brought her trousseau with her at the end of the reception, her party would be fitting the bed with furs and flowers. The wood would hopefully be dry by then. He draped his sheets partly out the window to dry.

Then he wormed out of his soaked trousers, not really mad that they were wet, since well, they were covered with blood, dirt, and sweat from the previous day's battle. He laid them beside the bed sheets.

Going to his meager wardrobe, he donned his second best pants and the shirt he had discarded yesterday before the fight, a black satin tunic with pearls and silk embroidering the trim. As he sat down to don his boots, he looked at his feet. Specifically his prosthetic.

Everyone knew now, no reason to hide any part of his identity. From his chest in the corner, he removed a dagger and trimmed the bottom of his trousers, fully exposing his amputation. He then pulled out his new and uniquely designed prosthetic. The leg was created much like a swiss army knife. His foot could be exchanged in three different parts, one walking foot with cleats, one for ice, and a hook design for riding. The fixed mount was followed by a rotary cuff with a spring loaded coil on the inside, which released the new foot while accepting the old. The new feet were almost blade like in comparison with his other foot. It would make it lighter and faster to walk, while not having to worry about a gyrating ankle.

He stood and got adjusted to the change of weight.

"Not bad." He evaluated.

Toothless gave a low rumble.