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Hiccup had scars - lots of them. Most of the newer ones were from hunters, people he had fought with, some were even from the odd wild dragon. They were never too painful, not deep. Most of those scars faded pretty quickly; a scratch here and there was nothing.
There the burn scars he had from his fight with the Red Death. Now those were painful, some days leaving him stuck in bed because the ache was too much - those sometimes still burned with such fury that Hiccup felt like he was being burned all over again.
Of course, Hiccup had scars over his leg too. Though Toothless did an excellent job at the amputation. It was mostly a clean cut, the key word there being mostly. The phantom pains in his leg also demobilized him at times, typically during the harsh winter months or when a storm was coming. In the clear summer such as now, Hiccup could go about his days in relative comfort, making sure to never wear his prosthetic for too long as Gobber had warned against.
Hiccup had done so when he was younger, refusing to let anyone see him in a state that wasn’t perfection; he’d grown since then though, realizing that wearing the artificial leg all the time would end up doing far more harm then good.
There were other scars that Hiccup had, they were fainter then the rest - from times long ago, but Hiccup could still remember how he got them.
He was lying in bed with Viggo, his chest bare such as the other man’s was. The pale moonlight filtered into the room, and along with the candles provided just enough like for Hiccup to see his lover in all his glory. Usually they were in the dark, something that could hide their secret meetings, but Hiccup liked being able to see the man much more.
Viggo had scars as well - primarily the burn across his face and the dragon slashes on his neck. Much like Hiccup he was lucky to still be alive. Injuries like that could have proven fatal.
Viggo ran a gentle hand down Hiccup’s chest, sometimes tracing patterns onto the youngers freckled skin. He paused in his movements, palm laying flat against Hiccup’s side. “My dear…”
Hiccup twisted, attempting to see what had caught Viggo’s attention. His breath caught in his throat, “It’s nothing.”
His words did nothing to qualm the man’s worry, “Who hurt you? Was it one of my men? Ryker or Dagur?” Viggo sat up, continuing to hold onto Hiccup as thought he was afraid the man would run away.
Hiccup turned - shaking his head - “it wasn’t them, they’re old anyway.”
Old they were, from before the hunters, before the Red Death… From before Toothless.
Viggo brushed the hair from Hiccup’s face, “Somebody hurt you, as your partner I’m concerned for you.” The two locked eyes for a moment; Viggo’s looked so warm, and gods so filled with pain at the thought of harm coming to Hiccup. How ironic seeing as a year ago he would have been delighted at the thought.
Hiccup but his tongue then sighed. “You know how I’m a bit different then other vikings?”
“And I adore you for that,” Viggo said, pressing a kiss to the others jaw.
“Yeah, well, you’re like the only one. On Berk we have this sayin that only the strong belong, and since I was born a runt I didn’t really belong.”
The movements stopped once more as Viggo pulled back, realizing what Hiccup was saying, “You’re own people?” He nodded. The man held Hiccup’s face in his hands, “They were immensely wrong for what the did to you, my dear. You are stronger then any other person I’ve ever met.”
Hiccup scoffed, “Yeah, try telling that to my dad.” He jumped, not expecting himself to actually say the words that had been in his mind for so many years, “I mean-“
“I would. I would tell him how wonderful of a person you are, how strong of a leader you’ve become. Your brain is sharper then most and the passion you hold is breathtaking.” Viggo brought Hiccup into another kiss, their lips moving in tandem, entwined. “Simply breathtaking.”
Hiccup rested his head against Viggo’s chest, “I still don’t belong on Berk.”
“Berk never deserved someone as good as you.”