#daythreewhump

[crazy4dragons]

Sick Day

HTTYD Creative Week 2021

Day 3: Whump 

When Hiccup wakes up sick, the family works together to help him feel better. Rating: G.

Hiccup Haddock never got sick.

But when he woke up one frigid winter morning and climbed out of bed, he knew something wasn’t right. His head felt like it was spinning, his nose was runny, and it hurt when he swallowed.

“You okay, babe?” Astrid asked with a yawn.

“Yeah,” Hiccup replied in a raspy voice. “I think I just need a glass of water.” Fastening his prosthetic, he shuffled down to the kitchen.

“Daddy,” Zephyr began as she trudged out of her room, plush dragon in tow. Before she could finish her thought, she was distracted by the sight of her father’s pale face. “Daddy, you don’t look good.”

The chief managed a small smile. “I’m fine, Zeph. I—” He broke off with a coughing fit.

Zephyr sprinted upstairs and into her parents’ bedroom. “Mama! I think something’s wrong with Daddy!”

Sliding out from beneath the covers, Astrid followed her daughter downstairs, where she saw Hiccup leaning against the counter, still coughing. “Babe?”

“I’m okay,” Hiccup insisted between coughs. “I just —”

“You need to get back to sleep,” Astrid finished, gently taking his arm and guiding him towards the stairs. “You’re sick.”

Without protest, Hiccup allowed his wife to help him upstairs and into bed.

“I’ll make you some tea,” the blonde said, tucking the furs around him.

Hiccup barely nodded before drifting off into a feverish sleep.

…

Astrid returned to the kitchen, where she found Zephyr searching through the pantry. “What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Breakfast that won’t suck,” the little girl answered, tossing a glance back at Astrid. “Since Daddy can’t make any for me.”

“Shady much?” Astrid mumbled under her breath.

“What did you say, Mama?”

“Never mind. How about you go see if your brother is up? I’ll find something to cook for us.”

Zephyr groaned. “I said I want breakfast that won’t suck!”

“I’ll try,” promised Astrid, grabbing a basket of tea leaves and a bowl of fresh berries.

A moment later, Zephyr returned with Nuffink in her arms, his legs almost touching the ground as she half-carried, half-dragged him over to Astrid.

“Good morning, sleepy boy,” the Chieftess greeted, settling Nuffink onto her hip and kissing his head.

“Morning, Mama,” he yawned, snuggling against her shoulder and winding his little arms around her neck. “Is Daddy working?”

“Daddy’s sick,” Astrid replied, grabbing a kettle with one hand as she supported Nuffink with the other. “So we need to be on our best behavior today, alright? You too, Zephyr. No trouble.”

The little girl narrowed her eyes. “When do I ever make trouble?”

The blonde laughed. Zephyr was definitely her father’s daughter.

“Mama, I want pancakes,” Nuffink mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Why don’t we have eggs instead?” Astrid suggested. “Pancakes are more Daddy’s thing. And Zephyr, if you could start washing off those berries, that would be a big help.”

In a short while, the family had a breakfast consisting of eggs, toast, and fruit on the table, along with a steaming mug of ginger root tea for Hiccup.

“You two start eating. I’ll take this up to Daddy,” said Astrid, grabbing the mug of tea.

“I wanna take it to Daddy!” insisted Zephyr, jumping up from her chair.

“No. I don’t want you to get sick. You stay down here with your brother. And when you’re done eating, run down to Uncle Gobber’s house and ask if he can babysit you while I do noon patrol later.” With that, Astrid disappeared from the room.

“Milady?” Hiccup’s eyes cracked open as he heard his wife approach.

The blonde smiled. “I’m here, babe. And I brought you some tea.” Noticing the dubious look on his face, she added, “Don’t worry. The kids helped.” She bent down to kiss his forehead. “You feeling any better?”

He coughed. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to send for Gothi?”

“For Thor’s sake, milady, I’m not dying.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I’ll be fine.” Another cough.  

Frowning, Astrid brushed the sweaty hair from his face. “Alright. I’ll take your word for it. Just promise me that if you start feeling worse, you’ll say something.”

“I promise.”

…

“Hiccup? Are you alive in ‘ere?” Gobber knocked on the Chief’s bedroom door.

“Gobber? Are you in my house?” Hiccup mumbled. Although he was awake, his mind was blurred with a feverish fog that made him feel as if he were dreaming.

The older Viking twisted the doorknob. “There you are, Hiccup. I was worried ‘bout you after yer lass said you were sick. Said Astrid wanted me to watch ‘er and Nuffink.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Hiccup pulled himself up against the pillows. “To babysit?”

Gobber nodded.

“Why didn’t Astrid ask me first? I could’ve watched the kids. I’m not helpless.” He sniffled.

“For Odin’s sake, lad, you need to take care o’ yerself. Get some rest. And if there’s anything you need, I’ll git it fir you.”

Hiccup sighed. “What I need is for everyone to stop worrying about me.”

Gobber laughed. “Good luck with that, Chief.”

“Uncle Gobber!” Zephyr called from downstairs. “Grandma’s here!”

“You told my mom?” Hiccup said, his voice growing hoarse from talking.

“I didn’t, but y’ know, news travels fast around ‘ere.”

A moment later, Valka appeared in the doorway. “How are you feeling?” she asked, pushing past Gobber to greet her son with a kiss on the forehead.

“I’m okay,” coughed Hiccup, sinking back beneath the covers.

Gobber turned towards the door. “Well, now that yer mother’s ‘ere, I’d better go git myself back t’ the wee ones. If you need anything, just ask fir it.”

The Chief nodded.

“Come on, dear,” Valka started as Gobber left the room. “Tell me the truth.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, fine. I feel like dragon shit.” Then, realizing what had slipped out of his mouth, he added, “Sorry, Mom.”

Valka laughed. “It’s quite alright. I’ll go to the kitchen and help Gobber make you a warm pot of soup. That should help soothe you.”

“Do you know when Astrid will be back?” Hiccup rasped.

“I’m not sure, love, but knowing her, she won’t stay away from you for long. Now try to rest.” Tucking the furs around him, she touched a hand to his forehead before leaving him to drift back into sleep.

…

Astrid arrived home with a basket of herbs tucked under her arm. After hearing about Hiccup’s illness, Fishlegs had selected plants from his garden that he thought would make good remedies, and Astrid had accepted them with gratitude. The more things that could possibly make her husband well again, the better.

“Mama!” Nuffink shouted as he saw his mother walk through the door. “I made a get well soon card for Daddy!”

“So did I!” Zephyr added, grabbing the two sheets of folded paper and handing them to Astrid. “Look!”

“That’s very nice of you,” smiled the blonde, taking the cards. “Why don’t you go and give them to him? Just don’t get too close.”

The children eagerly ran up the stairs and into their parents’ room, announcing their arrival by climbing onto the bed and bouncing.

“Zeph? Fink?” Hiccup’s eyes cracked open.

Zephyr climbed onto her father and snuggled into his chest. “Daddy! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, munchkin. But you really shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to get you sick.”

Nuffink curled against Hiccup’s side and pointed to the cards in Zephyr’s hand. “Me and Zephyr made these!”

Hiccup managed a weak smile. “You did? Let me see.”

As Zephyr passed the cards to him, the Chief carefully studied them, his smile growing wider. “Aww, you two are the best. I love these.” He wrapped an arm around each of his children and gave them a quick hug.

“How are you feeling, babe?”

The three Haddocks turned to see Astrid standing in the doorway, a cup of herbal tea in her hand.

“Astrid,” Hiccup began, burying his face into a pillow as he coughed. “You’re home.”

The blonde set the tea on the bedside table and, climbing onto the mattress,  lifted Nuffink into her arms and cuddled up to her husband. “Of course I’m home. I couldn’t leave you like this all day, could I?”

Hiccup let out a contented sigh. He still had a cough, and a bit of the sniffles, and his throat still felt a little scratchy, but with his family close, he knew he had everything he needed.

[evilwriter37]

HTTYD Creative Week Day 3: Whump

Pain in His Chest

Rated: mature

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence

Pairings: none

Word Count: 1,126

Summary: After the defeat of Berk, Hiccup is brought onto Drago’s ship. He may have conquered Berk, but now he has to conquer its heir.

@httydcreativeweek2021

“No, no! Let me go! You have to let me go!” Hiccup struggled against the men holding him, but his desperate screams were ignored.

He’d been captured by Drago Bludvist.

He hung his head in defeat as he was brought closer to him. Too much had happened in just a few days. Too much… His dad… Oh gods, his dad…

Hiccup tried his best not to cry at the loss of his father and his own defeat. He wanted to kill this man for what he’d made Toothless do. When he finally looked up at Drago, there was anger in his eyes.

“Such spirit,” Drago commented. They were on his ship. Berk had been destroyed and taken. Hiccup didn’t want to think about what was happening to his people. He could hear their distant cries…

And Toothless… Toothless was in chains. Now that the Bewilderbeast couldn’t control him, he was too dangerous to be kept free. And Hiccup hated it. He looked to his dragon, in a cage behind Drago, and Toothless made a desperate sound through his muzzle. It was Hiccup’s duty to save him, to protect him, and he’d failed.

He’d failed at everything.

“On your knees,” Drago ordered.

“Make me,” he said as firmly as he could, gazing into this terrifying man’s eyes. He’d never seen eyes like his before, and that was saying something, given his history with Dagur and Viggo. He looked almost giddy, now that he’d conquered Berk, but there was anger there too, because he had to conquer their defiant heir next.

That’s when Drago smacked him in the side of his face - temple, cheek, and all - with his pike. This man was around a foot taller than Hiccup, and much stronger, so that sent him stumbling to the deck of the ship. He was glad he still had his pauldrons on, as the impact was hard. He laid there for a moment, dazed, but then Drago’s men were pulling him up.

And onto his knees.

Hiccup tried fighting them, getting back to his foot and prosthetic, but then his prosthetic was ripped out from under him, and he was falling again. He growled and turned a glare on the man that had taken his mobility device. He just smiled at Hiccup and tossed it in his hand.

“Thanks, but I need that,” Hiccup said.

“Give it back to him,” Drago ordered, and that was strange for him. Hiccup thought that he would have cherished in having him without his prosthetic. But… then again… there was the issue of his arm and his own kind of prosthetic.

“What?” The man was clearly confused, and didn’t want to give up his prize.

Drago pointed his pike at the man. “I said, give it back to him! You dare question my orders?!”

That cowed the man into silence. He set the prosthetic down by Hiccup. He wished to reattach it right at this moment, but was still being held down on his knees. He’d get to it after… whatever this was.

“Let Toothless go,” Hiccup sneered, trying to sound dangerous. He didn’t feel it, not in the least. Inferno and any of his other weapons had been taken from him. And he couldn’t fight off this many people.

“I think I’ll keep him,” Drago said. “Just to keep you in line.”

Hiccup bared his teeth at him, wishing he could rip his throat out. What he hated though, was that Drago was right: this would keep him in line. He’d do anything to keep harm from Toothless, even after what he’d done to his father. That hadn’t been his fault. Oh gods… the pain in his chest was returning. He looked away.

“Get his suit off of him,” Drago ordered. “I have an idea for this one.”

And then Hiccup was thinking of what had happened to Eret under Drago’s rule, remembered the ugly brand on his chest that he hadn’t been afraid to reveal to him and Astrid.

“No! Let me go! Let me go!”

Despite how Hiccup struggled, his pauldrons were torn off of him, and he looked to see the one he’d painted Toothless onto. It was being ripped away just like the dragon himself.

Then his breastplate came off and they were tearing into the top of his flight suit with knives. Hiccup stopped struggling then, not wanting to get cut by an errant, (or maybe even purposeful), blade. He was crying now because of the destruction of his work, of what it meant to him and Toothless, and how it was being destroyed. He was crying because they’d tried to desecrate his relationship with his best friend, and almost had. He was crying because they’d killed his father.

And he was crying because with this brand, he would no longer be able to be chief. Drago would own him. The time he’d almost been branded with this same crest on the face swarmed up in his memories. Dagur had saved him then. Dagur wasn’t here to do that now, when he could really use an ally. All his allies would come too late, and would be crushed by Drago as well.

Drago had left, but returned holding the branding iron, pike switched to being held in his prosthetic. He gave Hiccup a smile that was almost a sneer. Hiccup stared up at him, defiant, blinking away his tears.

“You won’t win,” Hiccup seethed.

“I already have.”

Drago pressed the branding iron to the left side of Hiccup’s chest, right above his heart, where it was bleeding in agony for his father, his tribe, Toothless… And oh, it hurt. Hiccup wanted to have held in a scream, but it was torn from him nonetheless. He’d never felt burning like this before. He could smell the orange iron of the brand singing away his flesh.

It could have lasted decades or seconds. It didn’t matter either way. It still meant the same thing, still added to the anguish in his chest.

The branding iron was pulled away, and through a sheen of tears, Hiccup looked down at the angry, red burn. He directed a glare at Drago, though he knew he looked pathetic crying while doing it.

Drago hummed, smiled at him. “Lovely. A new piece to add to my collection.” He nodded his head to his men. “Take him away.”

Hiccup was only given enough time to reattach his prosthetic before being pulled up. He didn’t want to be dragged. He would walk to his cell with dignity.

Except now he had none left, and that was the least painful of the things that had happened in the past few days. He briefly looked towards the sky, towards Valhalla.

What did his dad think of him now?