A/N: So we all know Stoick isn't exactly a model father. He surely improves with time, but I think we give him a little bit of bad rap. After all, his son had just made best friends with the animals that killed his wife. So let's be a little less free with the blame. Here's my version of the first movie and beyond with Stoick and Hiccup learning to be a family again. Lots of father/son fluff and angst. Enjoy!
Six months. Six months since the raid. Six months since his wife had been carried off. Six months since he had been left alone with his infant son. Six months since those beasts had robbed him of his most precious possession. Six months since the light of his life had been stolen.
"Stoick?" a cautious voice said behind him. Stoick didn't reply, still staring at the map in front of him.
"Stoick, ye can't keep doing this," Gobber told him gently. "Ye haven't stopped searching long enough to even sleep. How long's it been since ye saw yer son?" Stoick still didn't answer.
"Ye gotta think of him now. Valka...Valka's gone, Stoick," the blacksmith continued. Silence.
"Stoick," Gobber sighed, laying a hand on his chief and friend's shoulder. Stoick turned to look at him angrily. Gobber stepped back, removing his hand.
"She's dead, Stoick," Gobber whispered, "but yer not the only one missin' her. Yer boy, Stoick…"
"Hiccup's fine. The Hoffersons are taking fine care of him. He won't ever remember her," Stoick said gruffly, "but I do. I can't stop looking."
"And if all ye find is a body?" Gobber said softly.
"Then I'll do her the proper funeral rites she deserves," Stoick replied, "but I won't stop looking. Even if I have to kill every dragon in the archipelago with my bare hands. I will end this war. I'll destroy those devils if it's the last thing I do."
"And if you lose what's left of Valka in the process?" Gobber asked. Stoick turned to him in confusion, raising an eyebrow.
"Hiccup is all ye got left o' yer wife. Living proof of yer love. She died trying to protect him. How long's it been since ye held him on yer knee?" Stoick's eyes cast away. "Honor her by putting him first," Gobber told him gently.
"And if the dragons destroy the village in the process? I'm the Chief, I have to protect the village," Stoick argued.
"Protect it, but there's no reason ye can't be a chief and a father at the same time," Gobber replied. Stoick was silent. Gobber turned to leave, but he stopped just at the door of the Great Hall.
"A chief protects his own," he called back to Stoick over his shoulder, "and Hiccup's more your own than anyone else on Berk." Stoick was still, Gobber's words still ringing in his ears. He turned broodingly towards the map. He removed his helmet, rubbing his forehead. Five voyages to Helheim's Gate. Every time, they had been attacked and had to retreat before even making it into the fog. Stoick was confident the nest was beyond the Gate, if they could ever find it. They had lost far too many warriors on the voyages. A chief protects his own. Stoick sighed heavily. He continued to stare at the map before standing abruptly. He slammed his helmet back on his head and strode out of the Hall. He walked through the dark village, finding his way to a small house set in the center of town. He knocked on the door.
"Chief!" a young blonde woman smiled as she opened the door. "'Tis good to see you home safe and sound." Stoick nodded graciously. Ingrid Hofferson rested a hand on her large, pregnant belly, opening the door wider for the chief.
"Come in, come in!" Stoick ducked to enter the house.
"Chief, welcome," Hoark Hofferson nodded to him.
"Thank you, Hoark," Stoick nodded back. "I'm sorry it's so late, I just came for my boy."
"Aye, that one," Hoark smiled. "Bundle of energy, he is."
"He took his first steps a week or so ago," Ingrid said softly. "He'll be running around that house of yours in no time." Stoick's heart dropped a little. His son had started walking, and he hadn't been there to see it.
"'Tis been wonderful having him. Good practice for when this little one appears," Ingrid laid a hand on her swollen stomach.
"Does Gothi know when that will be?" Stoick asked politely.
"She says any day now, but it appears this baby has Hoark's stubbornness," Ingrid sighed. "Not to mention the little one likes to move far too much. I haven't had a good night sleep in weeks."
"That stubbornness'll make him a good warrior," Hoark smiled at his wife.
"Or her. I have a feeling on a little lass could cause so much trouble," Ingrid smiled, patting her stomach fondly. Stoick smiled tightly. He remembered well Valka's pregnancy. She had been so scared their little son wouldn't make it. Stoick was confident the boy would make it. He would be strong. Stoick sighed. Gobber was right. Hiccup was all he had left of Valka.
"I'll just go get the lad. He fell asleep just a little while ago," Ingrid waddled into the other room and returned in a moment with a sleepy, brown haired one year old in her arms. Stoick almost gasped. Had it truly been so long that his son was so big? It had only been two months since he had last returned. Why did it feel like Hiccup had changed so much in his absence.
"Look who's here, Hiccup," Ingrid whispered to him. Hiccup blinked up at Stoick, green eyes wide.
"It's your dada, Hiccup," Ingrid told him. Stoick smiled at his son from behind his beard, holding out his arms for his son. Hiccup shrank back against Ingrid. Stoick's heart sank.
"Hiccup," he whispered. "Hiccup, it's me, son. It's your dad," Stoick held out his hands again. Hiccup looked up at him cautiously. Then he held out his arms and let Stoick take him from Ingrid.
"Dada," he murmured sleepily, trying to wrap his tiny arms around Stoick's neck. He buried his face in Stoick's coarse beard. Stoick sighed as he pulled his son close.
"I'm here, son," he whispered. "Let's go home."