It wasn't as thought Hiccup liked the options laid out before him, nor was it as thought he was truly happy with the end results either.
He knew that there was always someone waiting to reprimand him for his latest attempt at being another member of the tribe, and he knew that if the others had it their way, they would have just locked him to his house and never let him leave...Well, he was pretty sure that they would have let him continue working in the smithy due to his, mostly self-proclaimed, talent there, but that was only if Gobber had his eye on him, and to be honest, he could tell that Gobber had much better things he'd rather do with his time.
Hiccup knew that the other children wouldn't so much as think about him if it wasn't for the fact that he was the son of the chief, and he knew that if he wasn't the son of the chief he would mostly likely have had a happier turn out compared to his current situation, because he would have either been completely ignored or would have already been dead, either way he knew that things would have been better then the half-attention he received.
Like being the square peg in a sea of round ones, or perhaps a round one in a sea of square ones seeing as Hiccup normally saw himself as the best of his tribe at thinking outside the box, not that anyone knew that he though this, Hiccup just wasn't able to stand firmly in his world. Too small to be a leader, too weak to be a warrior, too clumsy to be a tradesman, too distracted to be a healer, and too different to be given the chances needed to see if he could be any of those things anyways.
He was sure that his father had hoped and prayed to both Odin and Thor for a son great enough to carry on the family name, a son he could truly be proud of, a son that he could leave behind in death and have no regrets about him or his person at all, but he ended with Hiccup, the son that seem to do everything in his power to make that Stoick never so much as could dream of being proud of, this nearly worthless son of his.
Hitting that Night fury had be the greatest regret and his greatest joy. Toothless had changed everything about his world and had showed him how small it was. Toothless showed him that Vikings weren't the only ones who fought monsters on a regular basis, and that you didn't need a human to feel loved. Toothless didn't care that he was small, all the better to cuddle with. He didn't care that he was weak, he knew that Hiccup couldn't hurt him even if he tried, not that he would. He kinda cared about the clumsy and distracted bits, but only after they hit a rock or something, but Toothless wasn't one to fault a being on character traits, something Hiccup never saw in his fellow clansmen. It wasn't as if Toothless was prefect either, but he took it in stride as well and as long as he didn't have to eat anymore ABC fish, he was fine with them.
Bad luck seemed to favor Hiccup a bit too much to seem fair or natural for that matter. He always tried to see it as him being lucky outright, after all it took a lot of luck to have gotten into half the things people said he did, he only wished that his luck wasn't always aimed at his misfortune, but he had learned a long time ago that wishes really didn't get you anywhere and so he never spent much thought on them. In what was most likely Hiccup's best example of ill favoring luck, the tricks he used to both gain approval from his peers and to protect the dragons who were trapped were the very things that lead Astrid to his and Toothless's cove, and after watching her run off with every intend to tell everyone what she had seen, Hiccup understood that he would never be one of them, for both his own resignations and for the scorn about to befall him.
Toothless hadn't made a sound after that for a while, knowing that Hiccup needed a little alone time as to file his thoughts on the matter, but he also knew that they needed to make a choice soon as it wouldn't take much time for the girl to return to the village and tell their secret to all. The monsters would come for both their lives, one way or another, but Hiccup seemed to already understand this, and was already mounting him before anything could be exchanged, not that there needed to be in the first place. Before taking off Toothless could smell the scent of Hiccup's blood and realized that in the time it had took him to think through his and Hiccup's situation, Hiccup had written a message in his own blood on a stone in the line pictures he sometimes used. Toothless assumed it was some kind of last message or something and thought nothing of it has they left that lonely little island behind. Hiccup wasn't steering him, so he took it has a sign to take them where ever he pleased, and he believed that they both deserved a break from humanity for a while.
Stoick the vast was truly the mightiest of men, a man to be, and that was, envied. He had everything, strength, leadership, faultless loyalty, and even a bride that was nearly has mighty as him. He believed himself blessed by the gods to be all that he was, so when his son entered the picture, he believed that he too would be yet another blessing in his life. Looking back on it, perhaps Hiccup was a gift from the gods to teach him is place, for daring to assume too much of them. Or perhaps he was to be his greatest challenge, a trail of the gods to see just how worthy a man he was, after all any man that could turn Hiccup in to a great viking hero was truly the mightiest of men. Stoick failed that trail, everyone did. No one could make Hiccup great, and so they left him behind. But he believed, truly believed that his son's spirit, his passion for trying to prove himself would someday earn him what he sought, and he silently waited for that day, the day he could put a hand on his son's shoulder and tell him that he was proud of him.
He held on to that hope in till Astrid came bursting in, telling a tale of Hiccup and a dragon that chilled him to the bone. His son, siding with the beasts? That was something he wouldn't have accept unless proven, and so he, along with everyone else who overheard, followed Astrid to the cove, some what but not completely surprised to find it empty. He was all but about to punish the stupid girl for saying such a tasteless lie when the sight of blood stopped him. It was a message written for him in blood, and while it wasn't total proof, you didn't become the chief for being a denial ridden idiot, and so knew that the girl hadn't been lying. The beasts stole his son from right under their noses, and the worst part was that the first thing that came to mind was how much more peaceful life would be without some dang contraption of his foolish son's blowing up or misfiring.
Blood is thicker then water, and a father will always love his son, but you don't have to like something to love it.
But Stoick was a proud man, and a proud man like Stoick didn't let the beast take anything from him without a fight, and a fight they would get, he just wished he could tell himself that it was more so for Hiccup then for himself, but once again he didn't get to be the chief by being a denial ridden idiot.
Time is a fickle and funny thing. They say all things change with time, because nothing can withstand its force without buckling to its power, and so they change to cope if only for a little while, and Hiccup was no different. Freedom, friendship, understanding, kindness, recklessness and the unknown spurred him to explore a world so much larger then his dreams could have ever created before him. A world filled with dragons, people, traditions, skills and ideas so very different and yet so very familiar, and he took his time to explore them.
Time changes all things, and time changed Hiccup and his standing in the world. Toothless had nothing but pride for him, for he understood that what Hiccup needed most was to see that there were places in this world for someone like him, a place for people who thought not fought, and that such people were welcome among others, not shunned.
Hiccup explored the furthest depths and the furthest corners to see and learn all he could. And he learned more then he could ever thought possible on that tiny little rock in the middle of nowhere. He understood now that Berk was a no-mans land where culture and expression bloomed to die at the edge of a blade in the name of violence without meaning to procreate death and self-centered egoism. In the time of his earlier childhood he had nursed the dream of fighting along side his people, spilling blood and ending life, but now that time has done its deed, he feels nothing be shame at those ideals, he understands that kind of life would have never made him happy, only numb...and dead in retrospect. He wanted to keep living in his self made dream with Toothless, a life of endless travel, but he knew that he'd never be truly free unless the final bridge connecting him to the past went up in flames, it or him.
Time meant little to nothing to Berk, for next to nothing changed. The people who feared nothing were afraid of different and of change. This fear is what drove them to drive away the embodiment of these things, the boy who changed everything. They were not ready to accept anything alien to their life style and anything that tried to was not welcome either. So when news of the outsider leaving reached their ears, there was no tears or worry, only relief.
'Gone' The fearless whispered amongst themselves. 'Finally the stain is gone' Like a terrible nightmare that finally ended, the people were free to rest from a false evil of sorts. The adults didn't care, and following suit, neither did the children, for behavior is learned, and they learned to fear change and choice just as well as their parents had.
They were fearless.
But time changes everything, and everything burns in the end when you fear nothing and invite death to play his hand.
Dragons could smell things even dogs couldn't pick up, and because of this Toothless knew that Hiccup wasn't looking forward to his return to Berk, not that he blamed the little human, he himself wasn't all that happy to return to such a static place, but he agreed that Hiccup needed to truly cut his ties to the place in order to start living, but he also knew that hoping for the best was foolish, and both him and Hiccup were prepared for the worst.
They had learned much through the years, art, math, tongues, novels, history, myths, legends, songs, dances, cultures. They learned of war and warriors who fought them. They studied peace and those to yearned to realize it. They stood in awe of kings and queens and pitied the poor and enslaved. They traveled the wildest forests to the tamed city road and watch where nature and cultured met. They saw advances in improving life and in ending it. They saw, they studied and they learned.
They hoped for a peaceful reunion in which every unsaid thing could flow free and the binds could finally be lifted. They came with everything they needed for a bloody battle and were prepared to raize the very stone the village sat upon should it come to it.
Time changes everything, even the truth. History is just a recollection of memories from the victors written in the defeated's blood and bones. Humans dislike the idea that evil could ever stand above good, and to compensate for this, the winners are always portrayed as heroes and victims, those who were willing to stand up to the evil that stood before them. With this habit in mind, it isn't hard to guess how the sudden and violent silence from the northern corner of the ocean would be remembered.
Children in fields cried out to parents of a black shadow heading north without delay. Watchmen and archer claim to have seen the back of a warrior who was heading to a battle in which he'd never return from. Women in the market whisper about a boy they saw who looked so terrible weak and yet so very strong. Elderly watching time work its way across a life time mutter quietly about fathers and sons. And none of them ever saw the dragons bow emerge from the northern fog and mist ever again.
Everything burns, this is proven. The heat of the flames may vary for item to item, but in the end, a burnt object is burnt. Sometimes the flames are bright red, like blood that boiled over and danced across the view. Other times its blue, a ocean where nothing lived or could live from. And sometimes the flames didn't exist at all, but the ashes could still be found if you could peer deep enough into the heart.
As Hiccup closed his eyes, his only thought was that regardless of the outcome, he was grateful for the choices he had and had made.
Time would change that too, someday.
A/N: yeah i got a little weird in there, but it was rather fun to type up. If you can draw something out of this, let me know, i'd like to read your interpertion of this, im crazy so i'd like a sane persons (or saner) take on it.
Please review and just because everything burns, doesn't mean i want flames.