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How to Court a Dragon Prince, Chapter Five

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With fever dripping away slowly like beads of honey from a frozen hive, nauseous sensations that swept over my body, and knowledge that other Viking chiefs wanted to claim me as their slave, it was small wonder that I could not muster the strength to attend the rest of the Thing. Toothless guarded the small hut as I struggled to sit up and brood properly. When I had energy, I argued with Jason while trying to thank him.

"I appreciate what you did Jason, but you could've warned me about the fever dreams before giving the ointment."

"But then you wouldn't have accepted the ointment. Besides, I must do Frigga's work on her isle, so it was satisfying to do it."

Not the response I was hoping for. He seemed to realize it.

"I didn't mean for you to get hurt, Hiccup."

"No, you didn't," I responded dryly. "It's perfectly normal for chiefs' sons to get injured on a peaceful island."

"It's better if you stay away from the talks. Most of them revolve around you; the slavers like Norbert are pushing the fact that you were attacked as an argument in favor of giving you the Mark again, this time permanently. I've never seen your father so angry."

"Even better." Then I realized what he had said. "Can they do that?"

"No. I won't allow it. Frigga wouldn't allow it." Jason wiped my forehead with a cool cloth. "They may get the notion, however to attempt the same stunt off Frigga's Promise and away from chances of rescue. Wouldn't put it past Norbert, if it were his men."

I pushed the cloth away. " There's no need for that; I'm not invalid. What about the hooded Vikings?"

"Most were slaves themselves; the ones who could talk were their overseers, telling them what tasks to carry out." Jason peered into my eyes. "Hiccup, do you think you could identify the overseers, in case they're Alvin's men?"

I thought. "Probably not. They all look the same when they surround you in the dead of night. But if you want me to look at them-"

"When you can stand up and meet people's eyes." His tone became gentler. "What happened wasn't your fault, Hiccup; it shouldn't have happened at all."

"But it did." I spoke without self-pity. "What am I going to do, Jason?"

"Leave it to me. Some letters have come that may help." He stood. Toothless took his post, using his wings to provide shade. 



If not for Toothless, warbling for an evening flight, I would have lain down and succumbed to lethargy. As he had once helped me adjust to a metal prosthetic, he helped me learn to walk again, to stumble onto dry grass. People would watch, other Viking chiefs who had heard the snakebite story. No one mentioned the Slavemark or the red patch of skin. Jason and Dad wanted it to stay that way, but the chiefs knew about the slavers.

Sometimes Norbert would come to watch; he'd fiddle with his ax and watch me put one foot in front of the other like a daft toddler. On those days Toothless would curl around me and hiss; he had overheard Dad and Jason's conversations. I'd force myself to meet the Hysteric chief's eyes. Only that made him stride in the other direction.

Astrid and the other dragon riders arrived by ship and had come to check in on me. That was a day when melancholy and shame mixed like honey and sour milk. She had started her usual, "You're not supposed to get hurt" rant with a punch. The jolt that shot up and down my arm, however, was not normal; I actually yelled.

Astrid recoiled. Not just because the twins and Fishlegs had come to look on hearing the explosive sound.

"Did I hurt you?" she placed a gentler hand on the shoulder. I winced and took shallow breaths.

"A bit more than usual. Have you been practicing your swing?"

"Not that much."

"Does this mean Hiccup can't run the Dragon Academy anymore?" Snotlout asked. "Because if he can't-"

"Then I'm in charge of the Academy, and you know it." Astrid reached under my shirt sleeve and felt. Her eyes widened, and she withdrew.

"You're bruised all over this side! What happened?"

"I don't know," I told her honestly. "I guess snake bites leave different kinds of marks on the body."

"Generally the venom's dissolving toxins should've killed you by stopping blood flow," Fishlegs said, "unless someone managed to give you antivenom."

Thank Odin Fishlegs memorized scientific facts related to reptiles; his knowledge added plausibility to the snakebite story.

"We really gotta try it," Tuffnut said; Ruffnut nodded in agreement. "Where can we find these vipers?"

"Tuff, you really don't want to," I staggered to my feet. Toothless offered his head as a support. "Not unless you want to end up bedridden and hallucinating."

"Come on, the best nightmares are the ones that leave you shaking in mortal terror." Tuffnut made a shivering gesture to demonstrate. "I think I'm going to find me a serpent."

I rolled my eyes at his and Ruffnut's receding backs. To think only weeks ago they had terrorized an Outcast ship.

"Let them have their fun," Astrid said. "They've had to hold back from plenty of destruction."

"Are things on Berk the same then?"

"We've gotten some medical supplies from the Meatheads, but not enough to help everyone. The dragons have been showing us different herbs that we can use; Stormfly found a leaf that makes great bruise balm."

"And it makes these gorgeous muscles gleam." Snotlout demonstrated.

"I've started a new chapter in the Book of Dragons about those herbs," Fishlegs broke in. "Gothi's starting to store them for the winter."

"That's good," I sighed. This was why the Dragon Academy was important: not to have means to defend ourselves from enemies, but to learn how to work with winged reptiles and adapt them to Viking society. "Why are we the only sane Vikings in the Archipelago?"

"Because we're the only ones who don't think about fighting all the time," Astrid answered. "Thuggory, the Meathead chief's son. came to register for the Academy. What a scaredy-cat."

"What? Thuggory scared?"

"It's not even of a dragon species," she said with disgust. "He can't stay on a dragon because-- get this-- he's scared of heights. A Viking at the Dragon Academy. Scared. of. the. sky."

"The poor guy," Fishlegs muttered. "Even riding Meatlug gave him the willies."

"That could be a problem," I admitted. "Guess I'll have to give him private tutoring."

"What are you thinking?"

"A ride on Toothless with both of us securely strapped in, his hands tied so he can't cling to me for dear life-"

She pulled back a punch. "I clung to you for dear life when I first rode Toothless."

Toothless gave a deep-throated chuckle. Astrid sneaked a glare at him.

I patted my dragon. It was petty, but knowing that Thuggory couldn't handle heights broke through the melancholy. By Odin's beard, I was becoming more like my father every day.

"I'll think of something, Astrid. Curing acrophobia for dragon riding is something a dragon trainer should specialize in."

"You may want to hold that thought, Hiccup."

We started. Jason, Dad and Gobber had come on, Dad looking extremely grim. Gobber, the one who had spoken, held a pair of gloves, ones I had made with Nadder fangs and tight straps. I received them with a shaky left hand.

"The chiefs have decided what to do with you, since some suspect that you received . . ' Dad trailed off on seeing Astrid, Snotlout and Fishlegs.

"What to do with me?" My feet staggered again, and I clung to Toothless. The gloves clattered to the hut floor. "Dad, I didn't do anything wrong; why is my fate in the chiefs' hands?"

"I know you didn't do anything wrong, but they don't care," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Odin knows how long I had to convince them not to mark you, but they found another way. The Scots have sent a tentative peace treaty; their monarchs want Hamish II's heir to come as a diplomat to their castle DunBroch to start negotiations."

"The heir to Hamish II? That means . . . me? Dad, you didn't."

"He didn't. I convinced them. It's for the best, Hiccup," Jason said. "This way no other chief, Alvin or otherwise, can get their hands on you; the Scots are a jealously protective and armed bunch. If you are gone, people will forget the novelty of a Dragon Conqueror, and they'll leave you alone when you come back, especially if you succeed with the negotiations."

My mouth opened. Astrid seemed to realize what was going on through my head.

"Chief Stoick, you can't agree," she said. "The Scots will kill him if anything goes wrong."

"I didn't agree," he grunted. "Neither did Mogadon; you think I would send my son into enemy territory? But we were outvoted. Sometimes democracy is a curse."

"We don't have to listen," I said. "Berk needs me; you need me, Dad. I'm a Dragon Trainer, not a people person."

"We do need you, Hiccup." Gobber reached out his hook hand in a placating gesture. "But those slavers will come back, and they won't let you escape a second time. Taming the Scots can't be worse than taming a Boneknapper or fighting the Green Death."

"This isn't a fight with a giant beast, Gobber," Dad said. "This is dealing with men who use society to benefit themselves. The chiefs voted for Hiccup to be the diplomat on the pretense of his success with dragons, but they want to make sure that no Viking has access to special dragon knowledge."

"We have access to dragon knowledge," Fishlegs pointed out. "That's what the Academy is for."

"They don't just want Hiccup for the knowledge. They want the novelty," Jason repeated, "of owning and conquering a Dragon Conqueror."

"Dragon Trainer," I said with gritted teeth.

The sunlight became harsh; I had to shield my eyes. Many things had changed with my arrival to the Thing, but none so striking at the helpless look on my father's face, or the despondency rushing through the room. Only Jason looked calm. Astrid's hands felt cold as she stroked my shoulders.

"Isn't this like sending a sheep to live with wolves, to protect it from rabid foxes?" I asked. "What if the Scots want to learn about dragons as well?"

Jason's solemnity grew serious.

"There are no dragons in DunBroch, Hiccup. And wolves at least know to care for each other."
When circumstances beyond Hiccup's control force him to vacate Berk, he has to adapt his peace-making ways and Viking manners to the enemy Scottish kingdom of Dunbroch. Dunbroch offers protection from dishonorable Vikings like Alvin the Treacherous, but Hiccup does not feel safe fencing with the king or negotiating with the new Clan Council. Sooner or later, the Scots will learn of dragon-riding's warlike potential, and Alvin will return for Hiccup's knowledge. Unless this Dragon Trainer can finish his ancestor's political work and deal with a trickster god, he'll become a pawn caught between two hostile enemies. Royalty has never been more dangerous.

Thanks to :icondragon-wolf-lover: for answering a pertinent question related to Hiccup's injuries. The twins still look for destruction, but the adults have more serious matters on their minds.

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Azulon24's avatar
Quick heads-up, there isn't a "Previous" link at the bottom.