#i would die for hamish hofferson

[aleteia-ff]

1000 followers! | The Phantom of the Archipelago - Sneak Preview

Ohhh, yes!

Thank you, everyone, for your support. This week, I passed the milestone of 1000 Tumblr followers. I have only been on this website for 11 months by now and the amount of love and support I’ve received from this community, the people I’ve gotten to know... I’m so happy I joined! <3

Now, because you guys make me so happy, I want to do something back. And since a lot of you probably started following me because of The Phantom of the Arena, I wanted it to be related to that fic. And although I’m still working on building enough buffer of it’s sequel, The Phantom of the Archipelago, before I actually start posting, I figured I could at least share the draft of one scene from one of the first chapters. 

To say it’s a major scene would be an understatement. 

Obviously, spoilers below the Keep Reading line ;) 

And just a reminder that my ask box is always open! I might take some time to answer them, but in the end I always will. And I will try my hardest to work through some of the asks still in there. 

You can also always find me on Discord in the #aleteias-fics channel!

Hiccup let his gaze wander towards the far side of the island, intuitively scanning Berk’s dense forests for the little clearing in the middle of the trees. For the place he’d loved, and had later come to hate because of how his father had tainted it. But when his eyes found the all-too-familiar spot with ease, he decided that it wouldn’t be that bad to revisit after all.

He nudged Toothless to glide downwards, the two of them staying low and circling the cliffs before soaring over the treetops. Not that anyone was ever looking towards the sky the way Hiccup did, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Especially on a clear and sunny day like this.

Or perhaps that had changed too over the past couple of years.

Toothless warbled happily when they descended into the cove. Hiccup rolled his eyes, patting the dragon’s neck. “As if you didn’t know where we were going already. You’re flying this thing too, remember?”

They circled around to confirm they were indeed alone, and then skimmed over the pond, the tips of Toothless’ wings just breaking the water’s surface. Hiccup took off his right glove, leaning sidewards to let his scarred fingertips trail through the fresh water, sending a shiver down his spine. He released the straps that secured his feet to the pedals, readying himself to dismount. He didn’t use the straps that often these days, but they were a welcome safety measure when spying on villages, hanging from a cliff. Although he’d definitely let himself drop on purpose a few times, as an excuse to use his own wings.

It was all about danger assessment. And after eleven years of flying, there wasn’t much that could surprise him anymore.

He yelped when that thought was immediately proven wrong as Toothless made an abrupt tight turn, sending him flying all on his own. He realised reaching for his wings was futile just before he hit the water with a loud splash!.

He gasped as he came back up for air, frantically looking around from behind the hair stuck to his forehead in search of an explanation. And broke into a chuckle when he caught sight of his drenched dragon, wading towards him with a proud, gummy smile.

“Good to see at least one of us hasn’t grown up since we first ‘flew’ together all those years ago,” he teased.

Toothless moved one of his wings, but Hiccup ducked under water, avoiding the retaliatory splash, throwing water right back at his best friend when he came back up.

They continued to wrestle and tease each other, both of them somehow ending up even more drenched than before, until Hiccup decided he was done and swam towards the shore. Toothless gave his best Scauldron impression as his rider got out, almost making him fall flat on his face when the water hit his back. He stuck out his tongue towards the dragon, removed his helmet, and shook his head, getting rid of most of the water as he took apart Inferno, confirming none of its vital parts had been soaked. Some of it needed oiling - and he couldn’t wait to get around to that - but not like this.

He looked around, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips as he surveyed the cove. It was exactly like he remembered. Frozen in time, the only thing that had changed in the past eleven years the removal of the shield he’d clumsily lodged between two rocks at its entrance, and of course, his remembrance stone.

In honour of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III

Berk’s Bravest Dragon Killer

He found he no longer minded the text. Because it was finally true. And if people chose to remember him for killing that one dragon that had tormented them for so many generations, then he’d settle for that. It was a lot better than being remembered as a Viking-hating terrorist, he supposed.

He sat back against the stone, comfortably leaning against it as Toothless continued to splash around behind him.

“It feels good to be here again,” he murmured to himself. “Now that the memories are no longer tainted, and I can just… Enjoy them.”

He remembered it all like it was only yesterday. How he’d been both scared and then incredibly excited to find Toothless there on that first day, wondering why the dragon was sticking around before he’d spotted his missing tail, instantly realising he’d done that and, more disturbingly, that he felt incredibly sorry for it.

How they’d locked eyes from a distance, and how that look had stayed with him from that moment on. Prompting him to seek out the dragon again the next day and end up swallowing a way too large bite of slimy, raw, regurgitated fish.

It had only been uphill from there… All the afternoons he’d spent in the cove, observing Toothless, learning who he was and interacting with him, closing that gap bit by bit until it had felt no more than simply right - although still thoroughly nerve-wracking - to extend his palm towards the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself. And how his entire world had changed when Toothless had pressed his snout against it.

He trailed the scars on his face with his left hand, once again mapping out every line as if he hadn’t already memorised them long ago. He’d been through a lot since he’d met Toothless. Lost a lot. But it was the one thing he’d do again, and again, no matter how many new attempts at life he might get. Because he couldn’t imagine a world without his best friend in it.

“I love you, Bud,” he told the dragon, who warbled a ‘I love you too’ in return.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sun on his face as he waited for his hair and armour to dry, allowing himself to slightly doze off. He went back to those first attempts at getting Toothless back into the air, at all the failures they’d gone through before they’d actually made it out of the cove. Let alone gone for an actual flight, the first of which had gone anything but smoothly. But he’d enjoyed every second of it. The wind on his face, the saltiness of the sea in his nostrils, the two people shouting in the distance…

His eyes flew open and he put up his hand. Toothless instantly stopped moving, not a sound in the air for a mere moment. And then he heard it. A clear, audible “Wait up!”, echoing through the forest. Louder than before.

Coming towards them.

“Hide!” he hissed at Toothless as he scrambled to his feet, the distance between them too big for them to reconnect and fly away unseen. He sprinted after his dragon, the two of them disappearing behind a boulder in the back end of the cove. He snuck a look over his shoulder, spotting a figure at the top of the cove’s entrance.

A child.

He held his breath, peeking from the shadows, but the kid didn’t seem to have seen him, or the large black dragon currently breathing down his neck. Good. Now he just had to get out of here unseen as well.

“Hey, H!” - Hiccup’s heart skipped a beat, before he realised the kid’s name probably started with an H - “Not so fast!” he heard, coming from the forest once again.

He furrowed his brows, a surprised whisper escaping him. “Tuffnut?”

“I can do it myself!” the child - a boy - shouted back before he started to make his way down the cliff at the cove’s entrance.

“I know you can, but your mother will kill me if I let you,” the man repeated, and surely, Tuffnut Thorston appeared at the top of the cliff, gesturing at the boy, who was climbing down a lot faster than Hiccup would have assumed a child his size could.

“Tuffnut has a son?” he murmured, but Toothless just huffed, also clueless. “Kid doesn’t look much like him.”

Based on his length, the boy couldn’t be older than four, five at best. So he’d likely been born after the Phantom had left Berk. He searched his memory, wondering if he’d ever seen Tuffnut with a woman whose hair remotely resembled the kid’s unruly mop of auburn. He’d seen Tuffnut with many children today and yesterday, but when it came to a wife, he came up empty-handed.

“I didn’t think he even liked women to begin with,” he confessed, grinningly recalling the time Tuffnut had unknowingly flirted with the Phantom. “Guess we learn something new every day.”

“Then I want to fly down,” the boy insisted, pausing on the edge of one of the rocks, leaning forward and peering down in a way that made Hiccup’s stomach churn.

Tuffnut caught up with him, grabbing the boy’s arm and gently pulling him back. “You can’t fly. You’re not a dragon.”

“But I want to be a dragon!”

Tuffnut knelt down, putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “And I will still love you even if your breath smells like rotten fish, Little Hamster. But if you want to fly, you should grow some wings first.”

“So I should eat more raw fish?”

Hiccup grinned. Clever boy.

“No, then you’ll get sick, and we don’t want that, now do we?” The boy shook his head, his hair flopping around. “Although between you and me, it’s probably not that much worse than your mom’s cooking.”

“Berkian women and being bad cooks. Name a better duo,” Hiccup chuckled. He’d understood from his dad that his mom hadn’t been stellar, and Astrid surely couldn’t be called remotely talented either. He thought back to the fish stew she’d once tried to make, and instantly felt sympathy for Tuffnut’s situation.

The boy laughed loudly. “I’m gonna tell Mum you said that!”

“Go ahead, snitch,” Tuffnut teased, poking the boy’s chest. “I can take her on any day.”

The boy shook his head. “You can’t! No one can!”

“Are you doubting my mighty Thorston blood? There’s ‘Thor’ in my name for a reason, you know!” Tuffnut caught the boy in his arms, tickling him. “Are you, huh?”

“Stop!” the boy laughed, swatting at his father. “Uncle Tuff!”

Or not his father, then.

Hiccup bit his lip. Perhaps he was one of Ruffnut’s, then? But he thought he’d seen Snotlout with a girl of about the same age as the boy… Twins, then? They did run in the Thorston family, after all. Or perhaps they were siblings who weren’t that far apart, and one of them looked a lot older or younger than they actually were.

He felt he should leave, that he was peeking at something private, something he shouldn’t see. But he simply couldn’t. Instead, he quietly retrieved one of his Changewing skins and hung it over his head, allowing him to blend in with his surroundings and creep forward so he could get a better look. Behind him, Toothless warbled curiously, but he nudged the dragon back with his foot, telling him it wasn’t safe enough.

“Alright, wait here,” Tuffnut told the boy before he climbed down the remaining rocks, opening up his arms when he reached the bottom. “Ready when you are!”

The boy leapt forward, landing in Tuffnut’s arms. He spun the two of them around, keeping the boy high up in the air, making him squeal in delight until he finally put him down, Tuffnut visibly swaying on his feet as he tried to regain his balance.

Hiccup could see the comedic duo more clearly now. Tuffnut was still wearing his usual disorganised combination of a tunic, vest and lustrous assortment of spiked accessories. The boy was dressed way more conservatively, in a dark red tunic, half of it tucked into a pair of brown pants, the other half unintentionally hanging out, a leather satchel with the crest of Berk on it slung over his shoulder. Hiccup had always had good eyes - Astrid had noticed he could make out certain details from high up in the air, while she couldn’t - allowing him to spot the smattering of freckles on the bridge of the boy’s small nose, the tips of his big ears peeking through his copper hair and his forest green eyes, which curiously taking in his surroundings.

In a way, the boy struck him as oddly familiar. Then again, he had likely once met a Thorston who looked just like him, given how colourful and diverse - not just mentally - the family was. Tuffnut and Ruffnut were rather tame by comparison. Or so he’d been told, by enough sources to make the stories believable.

“Go on,” Tuffnut gestured in front of him as he sat down in the grass. “We’re here for you, after all.”

The boy adamantly shook his head. “Not for me. For Daddy.”

“Because you want to talk to him, Hamish,” Tuffnut pointed out.

Hamish. Huh. Hiccup could understand that name becoming fashionable again after he’d personally destroyed the portraits of his ancestors, Hamish I and Hamish II, five years ago. But it seemed like such an usual name for Ruffnut and Snotlout to give to their son. Especially if he was their firstborn son; then he was Snotlout’s heir… It’d be more logical for him to be named in the -lout tradition, but perhaps they had wanted to give off a clear sign by naming him after the great Haddock Chiefs, who had been defiled by their actual descendant.

How un-Thorstonly political.

The boy nodded and slowly walked forward to the edge of the pond, looking down and fidgeting with his hands. Eventually, he stopped in front of Hiccup’s remembrance stone, a bright lop-sided smile spreading across his face. “Hey Daddy.”

Hiccup furrowed his brows, because all of this was only making less and less sense the longer he watched. Was the boy’s father dead? And had his stone become a place to go to to think of other dead, or presumed-dead, people? Or those who simply weren’t around?

“Mama’s not here, but she said it’s okay if I go alone,” the boy - Hamish - continued.

Only to be corrected by Tuffnut. “If someone else goes with you!”

Hamish huffed, looking at Tuffnut. “But I know the way!”

“And you can go alone when you’re older. Until then, you can show an adult how to get here whenever you want,” Tuffnut quipped.

“I’m old enough,” Hamish insisted.

“I disagree. And so does your mother. And while she’s not the boss of me, she’s certainly the boss of you.”

Hamish frowned angrily, but Tuffnut simply grinned at him in response. “So what did you want to say to your dad?”

The boy wavered for a moment, his brows furrowed as he seemed to be thinking, but then his face opened up into a wide smile. He fumbled with his satchel, retrieving something black from it, and walked closer to the stone, proudly holding it up. Hiccup squinted, trying to make out what it was. And then the boy spoke.

“Look, Daddy, I brought Mini-Toothless!”

He only vaguely heard how Toothless purred in response to his name. Because right then, the ground underneath him disappeared, and the entire world along with it. Until there was nothing left but that boy, and the little statuette he held in his hands.

Of a Night Fury.

Which he’d carved and painted for Astrid as a Snoggletog present over five years ago.

“Mummy told me to take care of him while she’s gone -”

The boy’s mother was gone.

He’d given that statuette to Astrid.

And Astrid was gone too.

That boy was Astrid’s son.

But he didn’t have her beautiful blonde hair, her gorgeous blue eyes, her adorable but slightly oversized ears - no, he did have those, so Hamish could be hers, but then where did he get the rest? Hiccup thought she’d waited for him, that she…

“- like you take care of real Toothless!”

You.

The boy was talking to his father.

Who probably had auburn hair, and a pair of green eyes.

Who wasn’t there.

Whose dragon, named Toothless, was worriedly nudging Hiccup’s side, sensing his rider’s distress.

The boy was talking to him.

Because he was his father.

He hardly heard what the boy - Hamish, his son, named after his ancestors - said after that. He simply stared, unable to move, his breath coming out in short pants. Hamish rambled, his tiny hands moving along as he talked, as if this was completely ordinary to him, as if Hiccup’s - as if his father’s - world wasn’t completely falling apart at that very moment. Because it didn’t make sense.

How?

How…?

How!?  

He crumbled to the ground, pressing his hands to his ears, because he couldn’t listen, because this wasn’t happening. The Gods were playing a trick on him, or his mind was, yet again. He was seeing things, hearing things, deluding himself into picturing something that wasn’t there. That didn’t exist, that wasn’t true, because it couldn’t be true. He would’ve known if Astrid had been pregnant, he would’ve known if he was a father, she would have told him, he would have felt it.

It couldn’t be real. But no matter how often he pinched himself, they didn’t go away. The boy, Tuffnut, and the tiny wooden Night Fury stayed where they were. He wanted to flee, but he couldn’t, they would see him, and he didn’t know what happened if delusions spotted the person who was deluding them, not that that thought made much sense -

Oh Gods.

Oh, Gods.

He turned his eyes towards the sky, trying to snap himself out of it, to focus on anything but the scene in front of him. But the sun moved too slowly, and time along with it, so he wasted away, waiting, praying, asking the Gods what they’d brought down on him this time, until finally, his nightmarish visions left.

After scoldingly calling out the boy’s full name, Tuffnut picked him up, and, although reluctantly, the boy eventually stopped struggling, keeping Mini-Toothless clutched to his chest as Tuffnut carried him towards the cove’s exit. They exchanged some words, and the boy waved in the direction of the pond.

Hiccup only just prevented himself from waving back.

He couldn’t banish the boy’s name from his mind. Not even after he and Tuffnut had left, and Hiccup had jumped on Toothless’ back. Not even after they took to the air, the wind in his face not waking him up like he’d hoped it would.

So he simply flew West. Hoping to go back to the nightmare he’d come from. The one he was familiar with, the one he could deal with. Because he couldn’t handle this one.

Hamish Hofferson.