Title: The Lost Heir

Summary: Hiccup goes through with his plan to run away, leaving behind no loose ends… or so he believes. After discovering the Nest, then fleeing north, Hiccup builds a utopia at the Dragon Sanctuary, working towards his ultimate goal: destroying the Queen. But no good deed goes unpunished and ghosts from his past are destined to resurface.

Chapter Three: The Weregild

Valka thought it would be the perfect time for an evening flight; the stars were out, the winds were exciting, and Cloudjumper was itching to get out in the skies. Now she realises she couldn't have picked a more inopportune moment even if she'd been trying, she's missed all the action. The moment she's back within the city limits, and before Cloudjumper's talons have even touched solid ground, everyone is asking her about the mystery girl.

Of course, Ísfjall gets its fair share of visitors, drawing travellers from all around the globe like moths to a flame, being a hub of culture and innovation. But this girl was… unconventional, to say the least. Apparently, she just appeared out of nowhere, then —joined by her son no less— tore through the city, with an over-excited Toothless at their heels.

How many times does she have to tell Hiccup not to play chase with a twenty-six-foot long reptile through the residential district? He was most definitely his father's son; stubborn and boar-headed! She's received countless complaints of broken shingles, spooked dragons, damage to the northern castellations, and four ferrymen were stranded in the plaza after somebody swiped their poles. Three guesses as to who that was.

Then she hears that once the two of them made it out on the docks, Hiccup helped this girl to steal his own boat. She has no idea what to tell her people when they ask what in Midgard got into Hiccup? She simply does not know.

Last time they spoke, he told her he was going to check up on the botanical gardens before turning in, and now this? Valka needs answers …Okay, fine, Valka wants to gossip. Because she also heard that the mystery girl happened to be very pretty.

She finds Hiccup in his quarters —one of the only rooms in the city built into the original caves. Like her own, there's a tunnel leading to an external landing, but the heart of the space is still geothermally warmed to the perfect temperature. Even so, Hiccup is shivering and there's a cold puddle forming at his feet.

"Hiccup, you're soaked! What happened?" she asks.

He puffs out his cheeks, thinking. "Err… I went for a dip in the canals…?" he tries.

Valka can't tell if he's being serious or just evasive. "You know that's not what I meant. People are saying you let some girl take The Astrid. Is this true?"

Hiccup spent months designing that ship —agonising over every detail— until finally, the hours paid off, birthing The Astrid. It's easily the prettiest ship Valka has ever seen, and she knows how proud Hiccup was of his finished design.

They planned to construct a whole fleet and market them to visiting tradespeople, but without the prototype, they have nothing to show prospective investors. Such a venture would have gone a long way in the ongoing war effort, so losing The Astrid makes for a damaging setback. But Hiccup must have a good reason for this, right?

"Well, yes —but I had to, Mom. That girl, she was from Berk. She was here for a cure to Freja's Fever, I had no choice. She was scared, she needed to get the cure back to Berk as quickly as possible. And you —you useless reptile— thought we were playing chase!" Hiccup turns to his dragon and waggles his finger chidingly. "We probably gave her a real scare all over again!"

He runs his hands through his hair and leans heavily on Toothless like he does whenever he's frustrated.

"Oh… This wouldn't happen to be the same girl from the cove all those years ago, would it?" Valka asks knowingly.

A crimson blush creeps up Hiccup's neck. They don't often talk about home, but Valka knows about Astrid. She knows about how Hiccup 'saved' her from the Night Fury, as well as her being Hiccup's childhood crush, though he hasn't ever told her so. It's just obvious from how he speaks of her… as well as the boat thing. Yeah, the boat thing was the real clincher.

"How did you know?"

"Mother's intuition. Plus you have that adorable dopey grin." She touches his cheek lovingly. "You're quite smitten with her, aren't you?"

He grows redder and pulls away, shaking his head. "I just wish I could've explained everything, but there wasn't a good time. Obviously, the fastest way back to Berk would've been by dragon, but getting her to trust one, let alone bond with one, well you know exactly how well that would've gone down… And chances are they would've been shot down before even getting close to Berk."

She does know. The last time sanctuary dragons went anywhere near Berk, they were repelled by projectiles. Worst of all? Berkians are now using Hiccup's own designs alongside the catapults as if those things don't already pack enough of a punch.

The raids are effectively over, so any dragons caught in the crossfires nowadays aren't even hostile. Though the Berkians don't know that, of course. But will they ever see the truth? Valka still isn't sure.

"Aren't we forgetting that Astrid must have had a boat of her own?" Valka asks softly.

Hiccup shrugs. "Mine would've gotten her home faster."

"—Unless they sunk her for flying our colours," she reminds, placing her hand on her hip.

"They don't even know what our colours are," he ripostes. "Berkians have no idea we have ships of our own."

And why would they? It's no secret what most of the archipelago thinks about Ísfjall. They think they're savages, demons, traitors. Not civilised. Not skilled. Not like them in any way. What use would they have for ships when they ride on dragon back, and if all they do is cause trouble within the barbaric archipelago? The idea of these people taking voyages was simply too far fetched for those small-minded Vikings.

Valka sighs, rubbing her temples. "Correction: had a ship of our own."

"I still have schematics, it's a minor setback." He gestures to the bundle of papers strewn across his desk.

He's right, she supposes, so she'll let it slide. Though Hiccup isn't off the hook just yet.

"And you're sure she didn't recognise you?" Valka presses. "Because if she did…" she trails off. Valka can't even begin to catastrophize the implications if that were to happen.

"Pretty sure, yeah. But, I mean… they're gonna find out eventually. They all are," he mumbles —the only indication that he recognises the subject as a sore spot.

Valka shakes her head. "I really think you should rethink things, Hiccup. They won't accept you, not as I do. Not like we all do. Everyone respects you here, son. Why give that up?"

"Because they're family too. I left because I had to. They weren't ready back then —for you o-or me, or any of this—" He pets Toothless' head, and the dragon gives an affectionate croon, slowing the boy's frantic monologue. "—but they will be. We can show them."

Valka thinks Hiccup is far too naïve, and that one day, it'll come back to bite him. She's only trying to protect him, really, she is.

"Sure, we can show them. But they just won't listen… Believe me, I've tried." She places a consoling hand on his shoulder.

She knows this answer won't satisfy him. Because until he's tried for himself; until he's given it his all, he won't accept it. It's just who he is, and Valka dearly hopes he never changes. So they agree to disagree, like always, and she continues to silently pray that the day Hiccup decides to return to Berk never arrives.

The touchy subject of Berk doesn't arise again until a few weeks have passed. But when it does, it rears its ugly head in the most dramatic of fashions.

Hiccup is in the middle of training the recruits in the Dome when a terror arrives carrying a note from the South-West outpost. The first line reads:

Sentries have spotted a Viking fleet on the horizon.

The rest of the note specifies their armaments, a dozen ballistae, five catapults, heavily armed soldiers spotted on the flagship… Hiccup doesn't know who could be crazy enough to attempt something like this, but the note makes one thing clear, the fleet is nothing short of an invasion force.

He issues a rushed explanation to the recruits before heading out the closest landing on Toothless's back. When he reaches the outpost, he's greeted by his sentries' faces, all awash with concern.

"How far out?" he asks.

The captain of the South-West outpost hands him a spyglass. "A few hours, sir."

Good, they're still pretty far off Ísfjall's coast. But whatever small relief he's experiencing quickly dissolves the moment he puts the spyglass to his eye. The flagship is flying Berk's colours, and inked to the mainsail is the Berkian crest. Hiccup feels as though he's in free-fall, and not in a fun way. His father's onboard that ship, he can feel it.

Distantly, Hiccup hears the captain asking for his orders, but he's having trouble processing this new development and his head's in a spin. He doesn't know what to think, much less how to react.

He can't sink them, but letting them sail into his city will be even more disastrous. Before he's pressed for orders a second time, a bird call from above draws both his and the captain's gazes skyward. A sparrow hawk is circling above, looking to land.

Hiccup extends his leather-clad arm and the bird swoops down, gripping his sleeve with its sharp talons. There's a small parchment strapped to its leg, and Hiccup unties the string keeping it there. Printed on the parchment in smudged runes is a message detailing Chief Stoick's —his father's— intentions regarding his apparent invasion. It's addressed to the Dragon Master.

You have stolen something from me, but I am not here to see it returned. That is impossible. Pay me my dues, and I shall pay you yours. I am here to collect weregild for my son. Should you refuse to negotiate, we will collect by force. Believe that I will have no qualms with burning your nest to the ground.

Wait, what? This doesn't make any sense. What could have led his father to believe he has any such claim? His mind is reeling, searching for an explanation. The people of Berk were led to believe he perished that day in the woods, not by the hand of the Dragon Master. If he wants revenge, why come here? Why not be out there, searching for the dragon that took his heir? Unless… Unless Stoick believes he's already found it.

Toothless' presence on the island has never been kept secret. Astrid saw the Night Fury with her own two eyes less than a month ago, of course, she will have confirmed the rumours to her chief.

But weregild? Seriously? Is he nothing more than blood money to Stoick now? It hurts that Stoick would use his 'death' in this way, that simple material compensation could remedy the sense of loss. Unless his father hasn't felt that way at all. For five years, Hiccup has been beating himself up about leaving, about hurting Stoick, but what if Stoick hasn't been hurt at all? What if he's relieved?

Hiccup feels the acidic burn of bile in his throat.

"Let the flagship through the lock." His voice is crisp and strong, but inside he feels cold and fragile. "Have their chief meet me in the war room. I'll be waiting."

When Valka hears about the fleet's arrival, she's at the war room in an instant. Hiccup is standing at the head of the tactical board with a stern look on his face. She knows better than to ask how he's faring, it's pretty obvious that he hasn't taken it well either.

If he notices her entry, he doesn't let on, choosing to shuffle some of the pieces around the board, visualising a new strategy. The set up looks for all the world like an oversized game of Maces and Talons, sometimes it's all too easy to forget the price of war. Though her son never does, and that, she thinks, is one of his most admirable qualities.

"They're here," she tells him, trying to convey her support and offer some strength without being overly-motherly. At a time like this, he needs critical thinking rather than a shoulder to lean on.

They share a look, one that speaks a thousand words, and he nods. Then, they both don their helmets and call in Chief Stoick the Vast.

He's joined by a few other tribesmen —the teens most notably among them, as well as his old mentor, Gobber— all dressed in full armour, each carrying some kind of weapon, be it a longsword, an axe or a bow. Stoick wears an unreadable expression, perhaps something between spite and anger, and grips his weapon tighter for security.

"Your beast has ended the Haddock lineage," says Stoick, very business-like. "What debt do you think this meters, Dragon Master?" he asks coldly.

From his left, Hiccup hears Toothless snarl viciously. "How should I know how much your heir was worth to you?"

"I suppose such things are beyond you demons," he muses. "Go on, make me an offer."

This isn't at all how Hiccup envisioned negotiations going. Not that he's spent excessive time picturing negotiations for his own weregild, in fact, the situation feels almost surreal. But that his father would have the 'enemy' name his price, it's virtually unbelievable.

"Two-hundred thrymsa[1]," Hiccup replies at length.

It's a peasant's weregild, he knows, but Stoick hasn't provided any evidence to lead him to believe that Hiccup's life was of any value to the Chief. And yeah, the petty insult makes him feel good, powerful even. As if he's holding all the cards. Something he's never felt before in the presence of this man.

Stoick actually appears to ponder this for a moment. "Insulting but predictable. I expected nothing less," he dismissed the offer with a wave of his hand. "My turn… Let me tell you exactly how much my son's life meant to me…" A dark shadow passes over Stoick's face.

Hiccup waits for his father to make a new bid, but the man doesn't open his mouth to speak again. While the Dragon Master had been strategically keeping his distance, Stoick had been moving in closer, limiting the paces between them. And now that he has Hiccup within arm's length, Stoick lunges forwards with his axe blade, cold murder in his eyes.

Rapid reflexes are all that save Hiccup. He extends Inferno, his flaming sword, and arches it upwards, into the axe's path.

Somewhere beside him, Valka gasps.

Hiccup's parry melts through the Chief's weapon like soft butter. The axe clatters to the ground in two separate pieces. The young man drops to his knees, the strength stolen from his legs.

When Stoick moves to attack again, he finds himself pinned beneath the mighty form of the Dragon Master's loyal Night Fury. Toothless roars threateningly, as if waiting for an order to kill. He isn't, of course, for Hiccup has never had reason to give such an order, but he could've fooled everyone else. The proud Viking braces himself, fully prepared to meet the same fate as his son, grim acceptance written over his coarse features.

The soldiers posted inside the war room task themselves with restraining the small party of Vikings, fighting off their hold and trying to rush to the aid of their chief. But it was already too late.

Finally having shaken off his shock, the Dragon Master rises to his feet.

It was never about the lost heir's weregild. It's about pure revenge. And somehow, that makes things better. Stoick was prepared to risk everything to have it, imagine what he might risk if he knows the truth… or at least a part of it. Suddenly, a plan starts to take shape in his mind's eye. It's manipulative, it's dangerous, but by Thor, is it pure genius.

Hiccup calls off his dragon and straightens his helmet. "Take them to the dungeons," he orders.

The pair of guards flanking him move in to subdue Stoick. Even the mighty chief can't shake them both and he hangs his head in defeat. As they drag the Vikings from the throne room, the Dragon Master meets the Chief's eyes once more.

"You killed my son," he whispers, brokenly. "You killed Hiccup." Then, even more quietly, and more to himself, he adds, "I'm so sorry, my boy."

[1] Thrymsa was a gold coin minted in seventh-century Anglo-Saxon England. Given HTTYD is set anywhere from 811 to sometime later, and thrymsa ceased to be minted after about 675, it's actually a little bit too early. Though for the purpose of that one line, it's going to be the currency used in Ísfjall.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who favourited/followed this story and a special thanks to CajunBear73, Steampunk Wilson, OechsnerC, YaAz97, Hilko Salomons, Silvolde, and a guest for reviewing. As always, concrit is very welcome, so keep 'em coming. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I did in writing it. What do you think Hiccup plans to tell Stoick?