Heir and Pride

Chapter Eight

Reluctantly, he had headed back as it got dark. He wasn't afraid of the Night Fury as such, but there were other, less friendly creatures that inhabited Berk and he wasn't much of a fighter-or an especially fast runner. So he had made the class debrief and had sat with them as they tore his performance to pieces and dumped a torrent of abuse on his skinny shoulders once more. He sighed: it was nothing he hadn't expected but it still hurt.

    

And yet, not quite so much because he had other things to fill his mind. Like the Night Fury. So when they had finished congratulating Astrid and sneering at him, Gobber had handed out the food and begun telling his favourite story: how he had lost his limbs. Hiccup tuned out, having heard it multiple times during his time as the blacksmith's apprentice. He had snagged a small fish rather than the juicy legs of chicken the rest were munching and was toasting it listlessly. The raw fish wasn't sitting well on his stomach.

    

Astrid was sitting next to him, which was a miracle in itself. Usually, she sat immediately next to the teacher, paying keen attention but she had directed the class up onto the catapult platform and ensured that she positioned herself between Hiccup-right on the edge, his usual place-and Snotlout and the twins, his tormentors. Admittedly, she wasn't looking at him, speaking to him or giving any indication she knew he was alive, but he knew she had sat there for a reason and he still felt a twinge of gratitude. She had rescued him and he could never thank her enough for that.

    

Suddenly, he caught Gobber's words. "It's the wings and tails you want. Remember-a downed dragon is a dead dragon!"

    

And then it clicked. The tail damage had been devastating for the Night Fury. The fastest, sleekest dragon had been downed: no wonder it had been so angry at him. But it had not killed him: it had given him a chance, had offered him its trust. Despite everything that he had done, it had trusted him. His glance swung back to Gobber with his prosthetic hand and leg. He was getting a crazy idea. So while the rest of the class listened to the blacksmith's tale, he raced down the steps and headed for the forge, unaware that Astrid was staring after him. She wondered what he was doing.

oOo

He wasn't sure himself, but as he scrambled into the little backroom that had been his little workshop for so many years, he lit the candle and grabbed his journal. He peered at the image of the tail he had drawn and he frowned. The tail was supported by four internal struts, like the fins of a fish, with membrane stretched across them. He could use canvas or leather...and the struts would obviously be fine iron rods. But they would need to be hinged against something to allow the tail to flip open and close as the real tail did...maybe a hinged control rod with a sturdy but low friction joint...

    

He drew the design, making a fast calculation about size. His eye was pretty accurate from his work smithing and he cast around the forge for the materials he needed. There was plenty of spare iron around for the rods and he could take the studs from a shield for the bolts... He pulled his apron on, fired up the forge and set to work. This was going to be a late night.

    

In fact, he finished just after dawn, his head buzzing with weariness but his heart pounding with a sudden sense of achievement and pride. He had created something amazing...and completely unique. No one else had ever even attempted what he had achieved. With a smile, he snapped the prosthetic fin closed, grabbed his fur vest and tidied the forge, then headed down to the docks. The fishermen were busy so he was able to snaffle an entire basket of fish and staggered under the weight of the generous breakfast all the way back to the cove.

    

He was panting with exertion, his stomach growing from another missed breakfast, as he hit the floor of the cove, glad to get the basket off his shoulder. The pressure on his scored back was still painful. He wondered idly, as he cast around for the dragon, how long the wounds should take to heal. He had never been beaten before so he really had nothing to compare it against. But his back still stung and any stretching still hurt. The Night Fury ambled forward and Hiccup gave a bright smile, dumping the basket on the floor and kicking it over.

    

"Morning, Toothless!" he called cheerily. It had been the first real word he had said to the dragon and somehow, it suited. He grinned. "I hope you're hungry. We've got...let me see...some salmon, some Icelandic cod...and a whole smoked eel!" He pulled a face. "Gross," he added at the sight and smell of all the raw fish. Toothless sniffed the pile of fish then gave a roar and backed away, looking distressed. Hiccup frowned and realised the dragon was recoiling from the eel. He lifted it up. Immediately, Toothless roared again and scrabbled back. Hiccup raised a hand soothingly. "Easy, easy!" he soothed as he fished out the offending article and tossed it aside. "I don't really like eel either!"

    

Once the eel was out of the picture. Toothless hungrily inched forward and stuffed his head into the basket, beginning to gulp down the breakfast. Hiccup calmly grasped his prototype tail and walked unthreateningly towards the maimed tail that was flicking side to side. "Don't worry, don't mind me," he muttered gently, his eyes fixed on the tail. He had fitted the tail with sturdy leather straps to attach it to the real thing and he planned to strap it on as soon as he could while Toothless was distracted, but the tail kept flicking and a quick glance showed that almost all the fish was gone. In fact, Toothless had stuck his head all the way onto he basket to get the last fish out.

    

Frustrated, Hiccup plonked his small weight onto the tail to pin it down and rapidly tightened the straps, evening them up and inspecting his creation. He pulled the canvas fin open and gave a small nod. "It's not too bad: it works..." he said thoughtfully, unaware of the pair of huge bat-like wings opening silently and inexorably behind him. Toothless was completely aware of the new weight on his tail and a wicked look appeared on his face as he crouched down, bunched his muscles and flung himself into the air.

    

Hiccup gave a loud scream, still sitting on Toothless's tail. He clutched on for dear life as Toothless rose with every powerful beat of his wings but he immediately began to sag to the right and Hiccup saw that the tail had collapsed: he had built the tail but there was nothing to hold it open. The pressure of the wind had immediately collapsed it. And they were heading straight for the rocky wall of the cove. He reached back, winding his legs round the tail and wrenched the tail open.

    

They immediately levelled out and Toothless turned his head up, climbing ferociously into the sky. Hiccup, holding the tail open, hung on desperately, the jerking flight almost dislodging him. But they were flying and he had never felt anything so wild or scary or exhilarating! But they were heading straight up and Hiccup didn't trust the dragon that much. So he flipped the tail to one side and directed the pair back down into the cove. They dipped down and skimmed the little lake at astonishing speed. Hiccup whooped in delight, the utter exultation of his ride overwhelming him and he didn't notice Toothless narrowing his eyes and noticing the skinny boy still clinging to his tail. With a contemptuous flick, the dragon tossed him aside and he splashed down hard into the lake. Toothless banked up but the tail prosthesis instantly collapsed and the dragon splashed down even harder than the boy in the lake.

    

Hiccup leapt into the air: soaked, breathless and sore but not bothered by any of these. He had flown! His prosthesis had worked! By Odin, IT HAD WORKED! Admittedly, not perfectly but finally, he had something to work with. And the amazing sense of achievement that he had conceived, built and tested a device that hadn't been useless. He gave an utterly joyous laugh as the dragon shook itself angrily and began to trudge out of the lake.