Heir and Pride

Chapter Thirty One

"I accuse the villagers of Berk, the Hooligan Tribe, of mistreating me for over five years, for making me feel like an Outcast among my own people. I was all but shunned. Two of them tried to kill me when I had only saved the life of a young boy. I was verbally and physically abused by almost everyone. I was driven to the brink of suicide. My father treated me like dirt. I was constantly bullied and assaulted by my cousin. I befriended a dragon and was cast out of the Tribe-a punishment I knew I had deserved. But my advice was ignored and I had to come to the rescue of the Hooligans. I gave my leg and almost my life to save you.

And only one person has apologised for mistreating me."

There was a chorus of shouts and protests as Hiccup's words echoed round the Great Hall, the entire village falling over each other to protest at the accusation. Hiccup's face hardened.

"Leaving a gift of a couple of dried fish or a pie for a dying boy in a coma doesn't take any effort," he snapped, his eyes glittering in anger. "It doesn't take any courage. How many of you have come to see me when I was recovered and offered me an apology-or a thank you-for my actions? How many of you had the courage to face up to how you treated me?"

"A Viking must be tough!" Phlegma the Fierce shouted. Hiccup turned his gaze to the ferocious woman. He recalled she had slapped him until his face bled for making her miss the chance to kill a dragon during a raid. He swallowed.

"How about a young boy?" he asked sternly. "How many of you would cope with being called 'runt' and 'useless' and 'fishbone' since you were nine? How many of you would enjoy being beaten up every single gods-damned day? How many of you would enjoy being shoved aside as you walked through the village, casually slapped or terrorised? How many of you would relish a constant chorus of whispers as you pass? And never a kind word or a simple thank you or-Odin forbid-a word of praise? How would you cope when your family were the worst offenders and no one-no one-ever was pleased to see you?"

Silence fell over the Hall.

"I saved this village," he repeated in a rough voice. He was trembling all over with the strain of facing the Hooligans. "I nearly died. I had been thrown out of the village, disowned by my father-and I came back and saved you all. But none of you stepped forward and saved me from one instant of pain as I was systematically tortured and broken down by the village over years."

"It wasn't that..." Stoick began.

"IT WAS EXACTLY THAT!" Hiccup yelled, his eyes flaring with rage. "Your nephew, my own cousin, beat me every day. You screamed at me and verbally tore me to shreds, often in front of the village. Gods know what you were thinking or how you imagined they would ever respect me as Chief after that! My Uncle and my cousin almost beat me to death after you were injured. No thought of letting me see my father or asking what had happened-I was just held and punched and kicked until I knew I was going to die. And then they left me on the ground to bleed!"

"Another harmed you just as badly," Stoick growled. Hiccup glared at him.

"As usual, you avoid the subject!" he accused his father. "You change the subject. You completely fail to acknowledge that Spitelout and Snotlout almost killed me. And they have never been punished. As a result of that incident, I was stripped of the Heirdom and condemned to abuse, neglect and hatred for the rest of my life. You barely even acknowledged I was alive and it was with your blessing that I was tortured every day. I couldn't eat in the Hall-I doubt you even noticed I would search desperately for what food was in the cupboard because I was slowly starving. You had Spitelout beat me terribly-and I doubt you even registered what a cruel punishment that was after what he had done to me before. And you beat me yourself. You never listen!"