Hiccup made a point of avoiding Valka for the rest of the day. While he'd agreed to give her a chance to speak to him, he certainly wasn't about to give her the chance to speak at him when he couldn't respond.
That…and he really needed some time to clear his head before there were any more earth-shattering conversations or revelations.
It struck him as odd, the way she'd reacted to his transformation. In every other instance where a loved one had found out about him, there'd always been a heaviness to the revelation. Whether he was met with sadness, pity or regret…the weight of his secret always seemed to hang over the conversation like a looming storm cloud. Yet Valka…she'd seemed strangely thrilled by the possibility, as if his curse were something to celebrate.
Granted, his mother didn't know all the details – not yet. Without all the pieces, she failed to fully grasp the way his control over hi own life had been ripped out from underneath his feet in a single night. How his bodily autonomy had been lost over a single shot he'd taken at a passing dragon, leaving him forever at the mercy of the solar cycle.
It was unlikely that she'd considered the isolation that it had driven him to…the years of his life spent hiding in fear of his own people, horrified both by what he'd become and what his tribe might do to him if they found out.
How could she? She hadn't been there.
Hiccup growled low in his throat. While on some level he appreciated the fact that she had accepted his insane situation, the speed in which she'd done so almost felt…dismissive.
Well, she is a crazy, feral dragon lady, he reminded himself.
It was clear that Valka had become far removed from other humans in her decades within the nest; as such, he supposed it was possible that her understanding of them had dwindled over time. If that were the case, maybe she didn't realize just how odd her reaction had been or how uncomfortable it had made him.
Still…making peace with himself had been a long and difficult battle. To have it all reduced to a mere expression of awe over flight rubbed him the wrong way. It was so much more than that.
Almost as an act of rebellion, he remained carefully out of her sight throughout the day. He clung to the deepest shadows of the cave network, seeking shelter in the darkest patches he could find. He napped fitfully, never fully able to let down his guard, lest she surprise him.
When the shadows grew longer, he made his way grudgingly back towards the center, beelining for where Valka had tucked his bag aside for the day. When the shift came, he was quick to retrieve his prosthetic from inside and secure it back into place, wanting to be mobile for whatever lay ahead.
"If I may ask…how did it happen?"
Hiccup swore, craning his neck upwards to see where Valka sat perched on Cloudjumper's back. The dragon hung from a ledge in the ice, silent enough that his presence had gone unnoticed. As Hiccup watched, his mother used her staff to slide down from the height, returning to the grassy floor in a smooth motion.
"...huh?" He managed, taken aback by her sudden appearance.
Valka wrung her hands together as she approached. "Your leg," she clarified. "What happened?"
Oh.
"Battle wound," he replied simply, trying not to let the memories resurface. "I, uh, lost it when I helped end the raids."
When I killed a dragon. He kept that bit to himself, unsure of how his mother would react to that knowledge. He'd told her they'd taken care of the queen, but he hadn't revealed that he'd dealt the fatal blow. Her clear affinity for dragons made him worry that sharing that detail would not go over well.
Valka settled beside him, wide eyes transfixed on where his hands fidgeted with the prosthetic. She'd caught sight of the mark.
Deciding it was best to just get it over with, Hiccup held up his hand and wiggled his clawed fingers. "Curse mark," he stated flatly.
"Curse?" She asked, reaching out and running her fingers lightly against his open palm.
Hiccup frowned and withdrew his hand, "well, yeah. I thought that much was obvious." He lowered his voice, muttering to himself. "I wasn't born like this, though maybe you've forgotten."
Valka inhaled sharply. Evidently, he hadn't been as quiet as he'd intended.
"Hiccup, no apology I could ever give would satisfy you. Not fully," she said, holding his gaze, "so I will not waste our time together trying. What has happened has happened, and no words can change that."
Hiccup grunted.
"It's true," she insisted, "but I am here now. I want to listen. I want to hear your story, but I can't do that if you won't let me. You have to give me a chance."
It was a fair point, he conceded. They wouldn't get far if he couldn't move past his own feelings of rejection.
"I wasn't very popular in the village growing up," he began reluctantly, staring down at his hands in his lap. "I mean, you can tell just by looking at me that I didn't exactly inherit dad's strength, so I wasn't any good at being a traditional viking. Dad wasn't sure what to do with me, so he stuck me with Gobber when I was pretty young. I think he hoped the discipline of the forge would do me some good."
He'd been skeptical when his father had first insisted he apprentice for the blacksmith. The job did require a certain amount of physical strength, and it involved a lot of risk in terms of sustaining burns or cuts. At the time, he'd been thrilled by the idea of potential danger. He hadn't begun to imagine the creative possibilities the experience would unlock.
"I got pretty good at it," he admitted, remembering the way Gobber's eyes would light up in genuine surprise that first year. Neither one of them had expected him to excel at the craft, but it soon became clear that he was a natural. "Started spending most of my free time in the forge, even when Gobber wasn't there. Since I didn't really have any friends, no one said anything about it…and truthfully, I don't think dad even noticed."
It had been a relief. He could disappear within those walls and be left completely alone. No teasing, no taunting, no lectures…just time to focus on something he was good at. The forge had been his sanctuary.
"Long story short – I got bored of just sharpening blades and making repairs," continued Hiccup, absentmindedly picking at the nails of his right hand. "I started making things up, you know, inventing stuff. Not everything worked and there may have been a few mishaps in the village here and there…but when a project did work? Oh, it was the greatest feeling! I wanted to make something the whole village would actually respect, so I decided to create a new weapon to use in the raids."
Valka frowned. "Like what?"
"It was designed to sling bolas," he explained, grimacing as he pictured the ill-fated device. He'd never asked what happened to the invention, and a part of him hoped it had been destroyed in his absence. "I couldn't throw them myself, so the thought was that the invention could do it for me. It was that or something to wield an axe for me, but I couldn't make any of those ideas work…"
Valka opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head and cut her off.
"Don't ask," he said, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. He'd nearly lost a few fingers on those experiments, and felt they were better left forgotten. "The point is, I had this crazy idea that if I took down a dragon during the raids, everyone on Berk would accept me and everything would be better! You know, like it was supposed to be my ticket to some perfect life."
"I take it that was not the case?"
"No," he admitted. "I finally got the Thors-damned thing to work, dragged it all the way up to the overlook and even managed to clip a Night Fury on the first shot!"
Hiccup reached up, grasping the neckline of his tunic. "It came after me, dug its claws in around my heart and shot me through with lightning." He yanked the fabric, pulling it down so that she could see the way the scales swept up and over his shoulder, snaking off to meet the points where the claws had impaled him.
Valka's mouth dropped open, eyes widening as she took in the sight. He knew it was a jarring sight to behold, the way ink black scales seamlessly gave way to pale, freckled skin.
"I thought I was going to die," continued Hiccup, remembering the way the electricity had flooded through his veins. He released his grip, allowing the tunic to fall back into place. "Instead, I woke up as a dragon – just outside of Berk. I ran, obviously, but I didn't fully understand the curse until the sun went down that night. Well actually, it took a few days to really understand. I kept thinking that every time I changed back to myself, it must be over, but…no, it turned out it was permanent."
It had been the most emotional few weeks of his life. He remembered the feverish hope he'd felt each sunrise as he eagerly anticipated the feel of the rising sun on his bare skin, only to be met with crushing devastation when scales took its place.
The transformation had also been so much more painful in those early days, the near constant ache of his body only serving to worsen his internal turmoil. He'd been a mess, finding himself in tears most nights. The memories were hard to revisit.
"I spent five years hiding from everyone," continued Hiccup, clearing his throat to force the tremor from his voice. "I taught myself how to fly, took a few trips to nearby islands and you know, just tried to find a cure. Once I realized that one didn't exist, I kind of resigned myself to that being the rest of my life…but I still missed Berk, and I guess I couldn't let that go. Any time we had a raid, I'd sneak over to watch everyone while they were too distracted by the chaos to see me."
"Clever."
"I thought so too," he said, rolling his eyes, "but I didn't count on falling debris. Got clocked in the head pretty hard one night – knocked me out. Gobber found me the next morning, after sunrise."
Valka stiffened, furrowing her brow at the implication. "He attacked you?"
Hiccup shook his head. "Thankfully, no. I think if it had been anyone else, I'd probably be dead…but Gobber was in charge of dragon training. He thought having a Night Fury in the ring would be helpful for everyone to learn."
"That whole training practice is barbaric–"
"Trust me, I know better than anyone," he interrupted. "I got to experience it. The cell door was impossible to open from the inside, so I thought I was really stuck there. Luckily, Astrid decided to do her job of feeding the dragons a bit earlier than usual–"
"Astrid?"
"Hofferson," he explained, watching as understanding flood Valka's face.
"Ingrid's daughter?"
Hiccup nodded. "She was the top of the training class, so she was the one Gobber assigned to fight me. They had her on feeding duties too…she told me later it was to try and earn my trust."
"There is truth in that theory," agreed Valka. "Many dragon species would be more trusting of a food source."
Ignoring the spark of excitement he felt in that new knowledge, he forced himself to keep going. "Astrid found me in the cell and it didn't take her long to recognize me, but it was long enough for sunrise to come. As you'd probably guess, she had some questions, but she came around pretty quickly – even offered to break me out of the ring. I couldn't let her take the fall for my escape though, so we came up with a plan to make it look like I'd escaped on my own."
It had been a good plan – he was still proud of it. Hiccup was even convinced that it would have worked, if they'd had just a little more time.
He said as much before explaining, "I guess we were too loud. Dad showed up and saw the mess we were making, which was bad enough…but then he saw me. I had to tell him the truth. He didn't believe me at first – I mean, it sounds crazy – but once he saw the shift with his own eyes he came around."
Valka scoffed.
"No really," he insisted, not liking the dismissal of his father's efforts. "It was hard for both of us, but he really tried. Even convinced me to move back home for a bit. Of course, that plan ended up being way too risky and just led to Gobber finding out and me moving back into the ring."
"They made you go back!?" His mother asked, drawing herself up angrily.
"For the record, Dad was against it. I'm the one who insisted. It was too dangerous to stay at home, both for me and for them if we were caught. But Gobber rigged the pen's door that time," he rushed to explain. "I could get out whenever I wanted! We just needed a cover story that no one would question and that was the easiest one. I mean, where else would a dragon live in Berk? Besides…I was only there for a little while."
He wasn't sure why he felt the need to justify it all to her. Why should she act outraged on his behalf? Still, he kept going.
"Eventually there was another raid, but what matters there is that it ended with me explaining my theory that there was a dragon queen. Dad told the village and in true Berkian fashion, the boats were readied by morning." Hiccup rolled his eyes at the memory, "They needed a dragon to find the nest, so I volunteered. From there, we fought the queen and won…but I got hurt, and well, the entire village saw me shift. Woke up about a week later at home – Dad had to fill me in on the rest."
It had been so strange, waking up in Berk to learn that everything had changed. That they'd won.
"All of Berk saw you change?"
"Yeah. I had expected the tribe to exile me when I realized it…but they didn't. Everyone's actually been nicer than ever," it was still strange to him. "Since then, I've just been readjusting to everything. I moved back home and I've got my old position back in the forge. Honestly, it's been great. I've even started exploring a bit – I'm trying to map out the territories and islands near us."
Valka shifted her weight, humming lightly as she considered his words. "Is that what brought you here?"
"Maybe the first time," he admitted, "but then I saw how you worked with the dragons here. I thought you might be the key to understanding them."
A wide grin split across his mother's face, and she reached out to squeeze his arm. "Why didn't you just say so? If it's dragons you wish to learn about, I can help you! And with your gifts, imagine what we could learn together!"
Gifts.
Hiccup arched an eyebrow at the choice of phrasing, but didn't fight her on it. Whatever she wanted to call it was fine, he supposed, as it didn't really change anything.
Maybe…maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have someone who liked what he'd become, as opposed to those who'd been forced to accept it.
"I don't have a lot of time. Dad doesn't know I left, and I really need to be getting back in a few days to keep it that way."
Valka nodded, "Then we'd best get started."
To Hiccup's surprise, spending time with Valka became easy very quickly. The more time he spent with her, the more the icy chip on his shoulder seemed to thaw out.
In a way, his mother was a kindred spirit. She'd also been an outsider in Berk, one whose gentler nature set her at odds with her in the village. She recognized the beauty in her surroundings, filled with an insatiable need to learn more that mirrored his own thirst for exploration. She had an open mind, never dismissing any thought or opinion he voiced even if she didn't agree.
It was nice, seeing those pieces of himself reflected in another.
Valka's passion for the dragons was also inspiring. She'd had to teach herself everything that she knew about the species, having had no other guide in the matter. A trip to her chambers had revealed several worn notebooks hidden away, filed to the margins with observations throughout the years.
He'd been blown away by the findings. There was a single dragon that ate lava and protected an entire island! Another species used bits of metal to construct its own unique body armor!
She'd also seen fit to share her story, saying it was only fair since Hiccup had shared his own. It had been eye-opening to hear about her early days in the nest, and he'd felt a twinge of sympathy when she'd described coming to terms with her own isolation. It had felt familiar.
Perhaps she understood what he'd been through better than he'd assumed. Her solitude was the closest that anyone had come to experiencing his own self-exile, and he couldn't help seeing himself in those stories of loneliness and confusion.
That realization softened something inside him.
"It's not too late," he blurted out, interrupting her lesson on migration patterns. "I mean…you could always come back with me. To Berk."
Valka's grip slid on the notebook and she had to fumble not to drop it completely. "Hiccup, I can't–"
"You can," he pressed, already imagining how much it would mean to his father. "You said it yourself, you didn't want to be part of the fighting anymore. The fighting is over – we're at peace with the dragons! You can come home!"
Valka solemnly placed the book back into its pile, reaching out with both hands to grasp his shoulders. "I know it is not the answer you want to hear, but this is my home now," she expressed calmly, gazing steadily at him. "I have duties here, responsibilities that I must uphold. The dragons here need me. Even if Berk is at peace…"
Despite her denial, there was a wistfulness to her expression that Hiccup couldn't dismiss.
"The dragons were fine here before you were brought here," he reminded, reaching up to grasp her wrists. He gently removed them from his shoulders and said, "and that means they'll be fine after you go. That ice…giant…thing will take care of them, won't it?"
"The Bewilderbeast."
"Right," he said, waving it off, "based on what you've been saying, every nest has an alpha. The Bewilderbeast is this nest's alpha, not you."
Valka looked taken aback by his words, but she nodded. "Aye, I suppose that's true."
"And Berk is at peace," said Hiccup. "If you don't believe me, why not go see it for yourself!?"
"Perhaps one day."
"What does that–"
"Hiccup," her voice suddenly sharpened. "Drop it. That's all I'll say for tonight."
Hiccup spent the morning dozing. As he no longer had a reason to hide, he'd sought out a thick patch of grass, directly in the sun. The warmth was comforting, lulling him into an easy sleep.
That peace was disturbed by a pair of high pitch screeches echoing through the cavern.
Hiccup tried his best to cover his ears, wincing at the volume of the cry. His eyes snapped open, scouring the nest for the source of the noise.
Valka raced past him, kicking up dirt as she headed towards the new arrival.
A small Zippleback was stumbling across the grassy terrain, swaying dangerously before eventually collapsing on its side. One of its heads lifted to regard Valka warily as she drew close, the other not rising from the ground.
Hiccup pushed to his feet, shaking off his drowsiness and padding over to join his mother. He was curious to see how she'd aid the injured dragon.
Catching sight of his approach, the Zippleback hissed and snarled in warning. Its eyes were wild, and it leaned as hard as it could away from him.
"Stay back," cautioned Valka, as she did the opposite. She moved to calm the dragon, quickly establishing a connection. After doing so, she circled it, breath hitching when she reached the hind legs.
What? Hiccup was dying to know, but he kept his feet obediently rooted in place.
Valka bent down, fingers tracing something on the dragon's leg. She swore.
Hiccup whined, not liking to be left in the dark.
"She's been branded by poachers," his mother explained, voice rising in anger. "This specific mark is what they use to designate breeders. They're treating this magnificent creature like common cattle!"
Hiccup cocked his head, both surprised and confused by the revelation. His father had made it sound like the poachers simply killed all dragons in their care…why in the name of the gods would they want to create more?
Valka glanced up, reading his reaction with surprising ease. It was refreshing, considering he felt like he was playing charades with his loved ones most days. "Some islands sacrifice dragon hatchlings as part of their ceremonial rituals," she explained. "They believe it's good luck to provide such an offering to the gods – as if there could be anything good to come from such cruelty – and are willing to pay handsomely for those hatchlings."
Hiccup scrunched up his nose, stomach twisting in disgust. Berk had killed dragons to protect their home…they'd never done it for any sort of pageantry.
No wonder Valka was so furious.
"She's in surprisingly good shape for her situation," his mother appraised, patting the dragon's side reassuringly. "Honestly, it's just a miracle that she got away before they clipped her wings. She'll recover in time."
Valka drifted away from the Zippleback's side, coming to stand beside him. "I must go," she told him, sounding apologetic. "If there's one dragon branded like this, there will be more trapped in the base. I need to free the lot before any wings do get clipped. Downing a dragon is often a death sentence."
Hiccup nodded, having heard the same sentiment in Berk many times.
"I'm sorry to leave you so suddenly," she expressed, "but I'll be back as soon as I can. Will you stay?"
Hiccup didn't want to be left behind – he wanted to help. He spotted a patch of dirt, attempting to scrawl out the runes for 'help.'
Once satisfied, he gestured to himself and then the rune, repeating the motions until Valka understood.
"No," she said sharply, surprising him with the vehemence in her voice. "It's far too dangerous for you to be there and I can't afford to be distracted worrying about your safety – it could get us both killed!. Stay here…wait for me."
Hiccup growled, low in his throat.
"Please?" Valka amended before motioning for Cloudjumper to join her. "If not for me, then for the good of those dragons?"
He huffed, swallowing down his disappointment. He laid down, resting his head on his paws.
Hours passed.
The sun set, and Hiccup found himself pacing inside the fortress.
Shouldn't she be back by now?
He felt useless, once more wishing he'd been able to go with her to help. He wished he'd fought harder to join her – surely a Night Fury could be of some use in a rescue mission! If he could defeat something as mammoth as the Red Death, how much of a problem could a group of ordinary men really be?
Enough of a problem that she's not back yet, the rational side of his brain supplied.
Hiccup rolled his shoulders, trying to shake out some of his restless energy. No amount of wishing was going to change the past – he'd been left behind, and he had no way to get to her now.
Unless…
He eyed a group of dragons across the way, taking note of their size and wingspan. It was a longshot, but could be worth trying. Valka was a dragon rider, perhaps he could be too. He wasn't sure how she'd trained Cloudjumper to allow it, but he knew the basic principles of her other techniques.
A crashing sound drew his attention away from the group to where Cloudjumper had landed. The Stormcutter was breathing heavily but otherwise appeared uninjured, leaving Hiccup to wonder why the landing had been so rough.
Valka stood, stumbling as she dismounted. She took a few shaking steps before collapsing to her knees.
Alarmed, Hiccup ran to his mother. "What happened? Where are you hurt?"
Valka turned her arm, exposing a shallow slice on her wrist. The skin around it was pale and blotchy. "Poison," she managed to grit out. "I underestimated them."
"Oh gods," alarmed, Hiccup knelt down, reaching for her injured arm. "What do we do? Is there a healer we could get you to–"
"No ordinary healer will be equipped for this particular blend. I've seen it before," she said, shaking her head. "Cloudjumper, fetch Mala."
Huh?
While Hiccup was puzzled by the command, the Stormcutter was not. The dragon wasted no time, barreling out of the fortress in seconds.
"Mala?" He asked, helping his mother to her feet. He slung her arm over his shoulder, taking on the brunt of her weight. If this mystery person could provide an antidote – great, but the open wound could still become infected in the meantime if it wasn't properly cleaned. He needed to get her to one of the streams to wash it out.
"A friend."
"How wonderfully cryptic – that explains exactly nothing," he snarked back, but his heart wasn't in it.
Getting to the water required them to go down a rocky slope, and Hiccup could feel his balance slipping with every step. The dry stones were one thing, but once they reached the damp ones it was another matter altogether.
"Almost there," he promised.
When they finally reached the bank, Hiccup was relieved to be able to let go of Valka. His muscles burned from the effort of supporting the both of them, and the strain on his back had not been pleasant.
He felt lighter – so much so that he misjudged his next step, losing his balance. He threw out his right hand, using it to catch the brunt of his fall. The edge of the rock he hit was sharp, and he felt skin tear across his palm.
Hiccup hissed under his breath, forcing himself back to his feet. Upon inspection, his palm was slick with blood – a large gash spanning the width of it.
Just perfect.
"That looks bad" Valka observed with concern, "I can tend my own wound, really – you should go bind that now! There are bandages in my chambers–"
Hiccup shook his head, already feeling the skin knit back together. "Don't worry about me," he insisted, dunking his hand in the stream for a moment to allow the blood to rinse off. Once satisfied, he held his palm up for her to see.
The wound was no longer bleeding, the skin continuing to heal.
"Huh?" Valka blinked at the sight, shaking her head. "What? No…no, of course that's impossible. Hiccup...I'm seeing things. This poison must be making me hallucinate, which means it's working much faster than it should be–"
"No you're not hallucinating," cut in Hiccup, "this is part of the curse. Just a side effect of having Night Fury magic in my veins."
He wished he could use that same magic to heal his mother now, but he could not wield the magic himself. Instead, he'd have to help her the old-fashioned way. Steeling himself, he reached out and gently grasped her arm in his left hand, guiding her hand towards the stream.
Valka flinched when the cold water hit her bare skin, but she didn't pull back as the wound was cleaned out. Her attention was still fixed on his rapidly healing injury.
"Incredible."
"It does come in handy," he agreed.
Valka hummed, eyes less focused that they'd been minutes ago.
"So, now you know you don't have to worry about me getting hurt. I'm pretty durable," he continued, deciding to push his luck. "The next time you go out there, you should let me come. Let me help."
There was a pause, and Hiccup worried his mother's silence meant the poison was progressing faster. He hadn't thought to ask her what signs to look out for, or how much time they had to address it.
"Mom?"
"Alright."