Little Stories (How To Train Your Dragon)

One Night

One Night

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The boy was panting, half asleep, his arm being painfully dragged.

"Gobber," he whined. "Can we slow down?" His sentence was distorted by a yawn, but his point was understood.

"No, laddie. Hurry up," his father's best friend commanded, his voice barely a whisper.

"But I'm tired."

A hand slapped over his mouth before he could object further.

"Shh," he was ordered.

The little boy nodded, recognizing the worry and stress in his godfather's voice. For a man who was usually pretty laid back, he was on edge. More than that, but the boy didn't know another word for it.

The hand moved away from his mouth as the large man peered around the corner. He could hear shouts. When he focused on what they were saying, he could hear his name. People were looking for him. He didn't quite understand what was going on, but he knew he didn't want to be found. Gobber would keep him safe. Those people wanted something bad. Maybe to hurt him like his big cousin did.

He didn't want that.

He pressed himself into Gobber's side, and the big man looked back, seeing the fear in the young boy's expression.

"Don't worry, laddie," the man soothed, quietly. "I will ney let them hurt tae."

"Promise?" the young boy whimpered.

The man nodded.

They waited for the shouts to fade before continuing. The boy stayed close to his protector, not like the grip on his arm gave him much of a choice. He did his best to ignore the pain and stumbled along.

They made it to the servants quarters. Most had their own rooms. They were small rooms, but gave privacy.

Anyways, the man and the boy made their way through the silent hall. Walking into the stables, the boy watched the door be barricaded. Then two horses were prepared for the escape.

"Come on."

The boy was lifted onto a horse. Despite his small size, he had been riding for as long as he could remember, and expertly grabbed the reins.

"Stay close to me, laddie."

Before the boy could respond, a loud thump sounded at the door.

"Here!" someone shouted. "The door is jammed. The Prince must be in here."

"Come on!"

"But what about Dad?"

"No time, boy! Go!"

Following after Gobber, the boy leaned forward on his horse. Just as they left the stables, galloping out the door leading to outside the castle walls, the door busted down.

The boy gasped, looking behind them as the people hunting him quickly grabbed horses to follow.

"Gobber!" the boy cried, his voice rising an octave in fear.

"Just keep going!"

But while he was skilled, he was small. He couldn't go at top speed without being jostled too much. Slowly, the chasers caught up, the riders reaching out to snatch the boy.

He let out a yelp, barely nudging the horse to the side in time to stay free.

"Laddie!"

Gobber turned his horse around, using his hook hand to knock the lead rider off his horse.

"Gobber!"

"Keep going, boy!" the man barked, taking on more men. "Remember where ye father tell ye tae go?"

"Yeah," the boy nodded, inching his horse away from the fight but not leaving the only trustworthy person he knew (besides his father) behind.

"Hiccup, go!"

With a silent nod, the boy pushed forward, trying to force himself not to look back.

He failed.

Gobber had spared a glance at him, smiling as he took down another man.

*A week later*

The young prince worked hard, helping the mute elder as much as he could. She grew plenty of herbs and vegetables and another man brought meat every few days, but it was lonely. He had a reasonable amount of chores, but with his determination, he finished them quickly and often found himself bored.

The man who brought supplies from the nearby village broke into the clearing.

"Hey, boy," he smiled at the small lad of eight years.

"Hi, Sven," the boy greeted with a smile. "Any news of the King?"

A darkness seeped through the man's eyes at the reminder. He knew who the boy was, and had promised to keep his whereabouts a secret. He knelt down, setting his hands solemnly on the boy's shoulders. "I'm sorry, my prince. The king was killed in the revolt."

The boy froze. "No. No, that can't be right. My dad- he can't be."

The elder hobbled out of her little cottage, looking knowingly at the duo. She set her fail hand on the boy's shoulder before using her staff to scribble in the dirt.

Hiccup read his assignment and said, "Yes, Gothi," knowing the work was just a distraction. But it was welcomed one. He ran into the forest surrounding them, forgetting a basket to collect the wild berries she wanted. But they didn't call him back.

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AN: should I make a part two?