The Blacksmith's Apprentice

Thirty-One: Revelation

Thirty One: Revelation

"KILL HIM!" Mildew's hate-filled words echoed round the Plaza as he lunged forward at the pinioned Hiccup and Toothless, his staff rising to slam down onto the helpless young Viking. He managed to scramble his arm up in the way and cried out at the impact, jarring his injured shoulder. Mildew's eyes were feral, narrowed and face twisted into a snarl of rage as he reared up over the helpless Hiccup. Toothless was writhing against the bola ropes and trying to get away as Spitelout and his brother in law, Arnar Jonsson rushed forward and pinned the thrashing dragon.

There was a whip of sound as three Nadder spines sliced down, causing Mildew to leap back, his eyes glaring up as Astrid swooped down over the villagers, hovering protectively over the captive dragon.

"Get away from him!" she yelled, her axe gleaming in her hand.

"Yer a disgrace as well!" Mildew shouted back. "Yer poor father must be weepin' in Valhalla at how you've betrayed 'is memory!" Astrid's eyes narrowed and she slapped the back on the Nadder's head. A single spine arrowed down, grazing the toes of Mildew's boots.

"My father knew I only do what is needed!" she snapped.

"TRAITOR!" A female voice echoed up the Plaza and the Vikings moved forward as Hiccup managed to finally tease his dagger out of the sheath and was sawing urgently at the bola ropes.

"What is it about bolas?" he muttered as he sawed. "They really don't seem to work well for us-right bud?" Toothless managed a grumpy rumble as he tried in vain to snap the ropes around his muzzle.

"Hold them!" Hoark shouted, glancing to the stunned Chief. "Don't let them get away! We've finally caught the Night Fury!" Head snapping up, Hiccup's emerald eyes blazed.

"You? I shot him down!" he snarled and then mastered himself. "He's here because of me! And I'm here because Berk needed protecting from the raiding dragons..."

"By bringing the demons here!" Ack yelled.

"'E were controlling the raid!" Mildew accused him and Hiccup managed to cut through the rope, feverishly pulling the ropes free-but more Vikings piled in and pinned Toothless down as a variety of bladed weapons were pointed at him, an axe digging into his pale throat. He froze and looked appealingly up at his father. Astrid drew back, trying to work out how she could free Hiccup and take out the Vikings without harming her husband.

"Dad-I wasn't!" he protested. "I mean-how could I control the raids when they have been going for three hundred years, ever since we arrived on Berk?"

"You stopped the raid!" Spitelout menaced. "You were in control-and you were controlling the dragons. You flew in on a Night Fury-you are a traitor to all Vikings and should be executed!"

"Precisely!" Hiccup retorted, staring hard at his father. "I stopped the raid. I lost my mother to a dragon raid. And I almost lost my wife to another! I would never help the dragons damage us!"

"But..."

"You know, your son was painfully stupid, achingly self-centred and pathetically proud of being the Heir-even though everyone knew instantly that he was probably the last person on the island who should be granted that honour...but he was right in one thing!" Hiccup snarked. "He didn't believe I just shot down the dragon carrying Astrid away. And I didn't!" He gestured towards the pinned dragon. "He did!" Gobber limped forward, his eyes disappointed.

"Laddie..." he said and his eyes drifted to the pale face. Hiccup pleaded silently.

"Don't hurt him," he said quietly. "He spared my life. He saved Astrid. He stopped the raid. I was the one who did anything wrong. Blame me. Punish...me. But let Toothless go!" Gobber flinched and Stoick finally moved. He took an unsteady step towards his former son.