[Hiccup]

And through them days I was a ghost atop my chair My dad considered me a cross he had to bear He'd never felt so much anger balling up inside his gut, so much fury and rage, so much paranoia and self doubt as he felt as he stalked back through the village to his hut, his eyes were shadowed over, cold as ice, completely furious. He was sure those words had not meant to reach his ears, and there was a chance it was just a rumor meant to stir him up, but what if it wasn't? What if they did want to usurp him? It was bad enough that he was facing a war from all sides, from Viggo and his men, but now he had to fear his own village stabbing him in the back?! It was like a battle from every angle and he was tired, but unsurprised really, it was only a matter of time until this came to pass, they'd never believed in him, and why should they? When they had Stoick telling them how much of a screw up he was for 15 years, it was true anyway. He felt the itching prickle of anxiety in his skin as he pushed the door open, turning to Toothless as he muttered to himself, sounding almost half mad, pressing his back against the door, "I don't know who's involved...I don't know who knows and who doesn't...I don't know." He shook his head, going to find his mother with a wild look in his eyes, "if anyone comes looking for me. Turn them away." He couldn't hide the tremble in his voice, "I knew they doubted me...But I didn't know they wanted me dead..." He scoffed and rolled his good eye, sitting at the table with a defeated expression, "but who can blame them...I'm Hiccup, the mistake, the useless, the worst viking on Berk...I'm no chief...Dad should have given the title to Snotlout...Not me..." He let out a heavy sigh, resting his head in his hands and rubbing at his throbbing skull, "maybe I should let them, be done with it, get some fucking rest for a change..." That would be the only way he ever managed to escape this mess. Death. And in my head I'd sing apologies and stare

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