Captain Fury: Pirate of Berk

5: Pirate Business

Pirate Business.

The problem with Dragon Island, Hiccup thought as he walked carefully through the narrow streets of the village, was that there was nowhere he could be himself. He was condemned to be Captain Fury the whole time.

Dragon Island was so named because, many centuries ago, it had been the nest of a giant Red Death which had commanded dragons scourging the island of Berk. It had been slain and the huge bones used in the construction of the village on the island. The place was hard to reach, a very complex seasick maze protecting the harbour and beach of the village. Pirates had found the island and protected it fiercely. But the settlement wasn't just pirates: they needed laundrywomen and bakers and blacksmiths and healers. There were shops for clothes and food and weapons. And many pirates had a small hut or chamber in the mountain for their own. And more had a partner or family.

Dressed as Fury, Hiccup walked through the village, his cloak flapping behind him, his face obscured by the scarf, a sword comfortably strapped to his hip. It was like any other village, with shouts of the vendors, the smells of food and bread and hot metal and children running around. He sighed: he wanted to spend some time in the forge, working metal and improving his sword. He had some ideas about how to create a retractible blade and maybe one that self-ignited... He was so lost in thought he almost missed the little boy who ran straight into his legs and landed hard in the floor.

Instantly, he stopped, guilty that the boy was sitting on the ground, his lip quivering. As the boy started to cry, he dropped to his knees and pulled his scarf down, offering the scared boy a friendly smile. "Are you okay?" he asked the boy, seeing grimy face with big green eyes and tousled shaggy black hair. The lad was wearing rags and he stared fearfully at the man. Hiccup sighed. "Is your Mom around here?" he asked. The boy shook his head.

"D-don't have a Mom," the boy whimpered, still cringing as if anticipating a blow.

"Dad?" A mute shake of the head. "Aunty? Uncle? Grandfather? Anyone?" A shake of the head every time. Hiccup sighed. "Are you staying anywhere?" The boy curled his chin down to his chest.

"B-by the docks," he whispered, expecting a cuff to the head. "I-I try to beg food..."

Or steal some, Hiccup guessed. He nodded. "Have you eaten today?" The boy wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and shook his head. "What's your name?"

"T-toothless," the boy whimpered. Hiccup sighed and stared at the very skinny boy, lifting the chin with a finger and seeing several missing milk teeth.

"That's not actually a name, it's medical condition," he told the boy, ignoring the fact exactly the same could be said about his own name. The boy nodded.

"The-the others keep saying that..." he sighed and Hiccup's green eyes saw bruises in various stages of healing on the thin body.

"What would you like to be called?" he asked the boy. There was a thoughtful pause.

"I-I like...Arild," he said quietly. "My-my Mom used to call me that..." Hiccup caught his hands and gently pulled the boy to his feet.

"Let's get you some dinner, shall we?" he asked the boy and was rewarded by a shy, gappy smile. Hiccup knew he shouldn't be doing this, knew he had any number of prices on his head and had no stability in his life at all...but he found himself sympathising with this undersized, hungry, bruised little boy who seemed to be all alone. So he hefted the boy up in his arms, offering a smile and taking the little lad to the nearest tavern. He got food, yak milk for the boy and an ale for himself and watched the boy starvingly clear the plate. When he had run out of food, he looked up with a happier smile. Hiccup offered his hunk of bread and the starving boy devoured it urgently. Finally, the boy was full, his eyes more relaxed.