Hiccup had been so small when he was born. So incredibly tiny. He could easily fit in Stoick's hand. Those first few days and weeks were terrifying. Everyone had said that there was no way he would survive, that the little Hiccup would freeze in the next winter.
Stoick supposed he was lucky Hiccup was born at the start of spring, so he had grown a bit when the next winter came. He was still small for his age, but not as frail anymore.
When Hiccup's first birthday arrived, Stoick was so proud of his boy, fighting through the cold and growing every day, that he decided to measure him. The boy giggled at first when they put him against the house's central beam, his eyes widening in fear when Stoick grabbed his knife. Valka helped keep him upright as Stoick carved a line in the wood, right at the top of Hiccup's head, and the boy slowly relaxed, laughing happily when his father carved a small '1' next to the line.
Valka looked proud, and Stoick decided they'd do this every year from now on.
The next year Stoick nearly didn't do it. The house was too empty without Valka, and every time he looked at the line in the beam he remembered her smile, her happiness that their son had survived infancy. But when, on his birthday, Hiccup crawled over to the beam and started rubbing the carved '1', he decided to continue the tradition.
Hiccup fussed when Stoick tried to keep him still with one hand, eager to get away and explore more, but he was still tiny and was easily contained. The fear flashed in his eyes again when Stoick pulled out a knife and carved right above his head. The boy didn't like weapons. He'd have to learn. Maybe this year.
Little Hiccup looked curiously as his father carved a '2' next to the new line, tiny brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly he started shouting. "Two, two, two!" and Stoick smiled brightly. His smart son, already figuring out runes and numbers. He couldn't quite put them together yet, but he was starting to realize that the blocky symbols meant things.
Hiccup had grown more than just physically this year. Though Stoick frowned when he looked at the small difference between the two lines. He was still so small. The Jorgenson boy was already a lot taller, not to mention twice as wide, even though he was three months younger.
Maybe next year he'd grow more.
When Hiccup was four years old he had figured out the pattern of the numbers, and insisted on writing the '4' himself. Stoick was hesitant, but at least Hiccup didn't seem afraid of the knife anymore. The number came out shaky and awkward, but recognizable.
Afterward, when Stoick had taken the knife back and told Hiccup he was free to play, the boy didn't seem as eager to stack his blocks as he usually was. He kept looking at the height line.
"Am I small?" Hiccup suddenly asked, sounding sad, pulling Stoick from his work on calculating food rations. His first instinct was to lie, to reassure him, but he knew his smart kid would see right through it.
"You're a little small, but I'm sure you'll grow big and strong!" Stoick said, grabbing Hiccup and putting him on his shoulders. The boy laughed.
"Bigger than you?" he asked.
"I don't think that'll happen anytime soon. Maybe if you eat more meat!" Stoick laughed as he put Hiccup down again. He looked annoyed.
"I want to, but I always get so full!" the boy pouted.
"A true Viking is never full, son. You better learn that if you want to become as big as me."
Hiccup never seemed to take that lesson to heart. By his seventh birthday he was nearly half a foot shorter than his peers. And no matter how much Stoick pushed him to eat more meat and eggs, or to train, the boy never really… filled out. Barely two inches of growth this year. Maybe next year he'd finally have a growth spurt.
"Stay still for a moment, Hiccup, so I can measure you!"
"But I have to go out! Tuffnut said he saw a troll in the forest, I have to catch it!" the boy said, body brimming with energy. Maybe he ran too much, and that's why he grew so little.
"For the last time, trolls don't exist! They're a fairytale created by Gobber because he doesn't get he doesn't have right socks," Stoick said firmly.
"No, they are real! Tuffnut saw one! I'll prove it!" Hiccup said, and the moment Stoick had carved the measuring line the boy was gone. The chief sighed deeply. Maybe this year Hiccup would learn to listen.
"I don't want to!" Hiccup said on his tenth birthday, refusing to stand against the pillar. He had actually had a good growth year, Stoick thought. Six or seven inches maybe, that was a lot for the small boy.
"Why not? You grew quite a bit, and if you stand there, you'll see," Stoick said, already tired of his son's difficult behavior.
"Not as much as the others. They're all way taller than me. Even Astrid is half a foot taller than me,"
"You're just a little late, you'll catch up! Now just stand here for a moment," Stoick said, sighing in relief when Hiccup obeyed. But when he went to draw the measuring line, he noticed something was off.
"No standing on your toes, Hiccup. Let's do this the honest way."
"But I want to be taller! Snotlout and the others are always making fun of how small I am," Hiccup said, before reluctantly flattening his feet on the floor.
"Then you should fight back. Punch them, do something about it. Don't cry. A Viking doesn't cry," Stoick said, silently sighing when he saw the growth was only five inches, not six.
"Then they'll beat me up. They're way bigger. That's why I want to be taller. How am I supposed to fight dragons if I can't even beat kids?" Hiccup asked the question Stoick had been silently wondering for years now. But Hiccup couldn't know that.
"You'll fill out. And you're smarter than them, try tricking them," he said, noticing Hiccup frowning. This wasn't just about lengths. Hiccup was reluctant overall to hurt others, whether they were people or animals. The boy had actually fainted when he had to hunt his first rabbit.
But surely he was just a late bloomer, one day he'd become just like his father and be a great fighter. Surely.
On Hiccup's fourteenth birthday, Stoick had trouble making the new line distinct from the previous one, barely half an inch below it.
"Come on son, stand a little straighter," he asked, hoping for another inch.
" Dad, it's pointless. Can I go now? I want to draw more. I just got an idea for a new irrigation system! We could draw water from the east lake if we build a mill!" the boy said, squirming against the pillar.
"Irrigation? What even is that?" Stoick asked as Hiccup jumped away from the beam.
"It's channels that bring water to farms! I read about it in a book!" Hiccup said happily, running up the stairs and reappearing with a thin worn book.
"Where did you get that?" Stoick asked, opening the book. Faded ink and weird drawings lay within.
"Trader Johann let me swap my other book for this one. I had finished it, and this one seemed more interesting!" Hiccup said, Stoick sighed deeply.
"That book was Beowulf. The only copy we had on Berk. An important part of our history, our heritage. And you gave it away for this… trash?!" the chief said, voice getting louder with every word.
"It's not trash! We can use it to build for the future, instead of dwelling in the past!" Hiccup shouted before snatching the book and running out the door.
Thor help him, what was he supposed to do with that boy? If even reading about dragonslayers didn't make the boy a dragonslayer, what else could he do? With every day Hiccup became more unruly, making increasingly dangerous inventions and refusing to listen. What would it take for them to reconcile?
A year later Stoick wished he had never asked that question. Hiccup was in a coma, and Odin only knew how long it would take for him to wake up. And although he wanted nothing more than for his son to wake up, the chief wasn't sure how he was going to tell him he lost his leg.
Next to the bed, Toothless was staring at Hiccup with sad eyes. Stoick wasn't quite used to the dragon yet, but he understood that he was incredibly important to his son.
"Still nothing?" Astrid asked as she climbed the stairs, holding a plate filled with finely chopped food. "My mom gave me this, to feed Hiccup. It's a meager birthday dinner, but…" the girl's voice trailed off. It was clear to Stoick she was scared, scared for Hiccup, but that she didn't want to show it. She had been raised like he tried to raise Hiccup. Vikings don't cry. Always be strong. Never show weakness.
Right now he wished Hiccup would show anything at all.
With a deep sigh he stood up and went downstairs, giving Astrid some alone time to feed Hiccup, and talk to him. He could hear her voice drifting from upstairs, though he couldn't make out the words.
His eyes fell on the big central pillar, and the measuring lines on it. He supposed they would have to skip '15'. Even if he woke up tomorrow or in a week, it wouldn't be fair. It would take Hiccup a long time to adjust to the… the prosthetic. Stoick still couldn't quite fathom it. No, no measurement this year. Hiccup's growth couldn't be measured in inches this time.
"Dad! Do we really still have to do this? Aren't I getting too old for this?" Hiccup asked on his sixteenth birthday, refusing to stand next to the beam. He had grown quite a bit over the past two years, and Stoick couldn't wait to see how much.
"Oh, why not? It's tradition!" Stoick said, pushing his son towards the beam.
"Yeah, and as we established last year, I'm not really a traditional Viking, so…" Hiccup said, making Stoick laugh. He suspected Hiccup's reluctance partly came from the presence of Astrid, who had came over for the fairly private birthday party. Stoick had wanted a huge celebration, but Hiccup insisted on keeping it small.
"Come on, Hiccup! Just do it! Do you really want that line to be the last one?" Astrid said, pointing at the fourteenth line, just below his chin.
"Ugh, fine! Just to get you all off my case! Can't I have a quiet birthday?" Hiccup shouted, walking over to the beam. Stoick was proud to see the limp from the prosthetic was almost completely gone.
"You gave up the right to a quiet birthday when you caused that explosion on my birthday," Astrid laughed.
"That was an accident! A mild calibration issue with the flaming axe! I'll fix it, and give you a better one on your next birthday!" Hiccup stuttered, standing still as Stoick drew a new line.
Hiccup was still small, clearly shorter than Astrid, and hadn't quite grown out of his boyish features yet. But for the first time Stoick could really start to see the man he would become. He figured Astrid could see it too. Although they refused to make it official, insisting to everyone they were just friends, Stoick wasn't so sure.
'Friends' didn't spend that much time alone, 'exploring'.
But the chief didn't mind if they were a little secretive. As long as Astrid's honor remained intact he was very happy with their relationship. The girl clearly brought out the best in Hiccup, cheering him up when he had moody days and grounding him when all he wanted to do was run away. And from what Stoick heard from her parents, she was also behaving much nicer and kinder since kissing Hiccup in public nearly a year ago.
Though it wasn't just her. The dragon at Hiccup's side also helped Hiccup immensely. Stoick had heard him call Toothless 'his best friend', and he could think of no other word for it. They trusted each other implicitly, and most of Hiccup's mental growth was surely because of the dragon.
Some things would clearly never change, though.
"Okay, are we done now? We want to go for a flight!" Hiccup said, grabbing Astrid's arm and running out the door before Stoick could respond. Toothless ran after them, and a squawk revealed Stormfly was waiting outside.
The two lovers mounted their dragons and flew off to another adventure, Stoick sighed, unable to understand how the youth could have so much energy, before carving a '16' next to the newest line.
By the time he was twenty, Hiccup had finally become taller than Astrid. He had truly grown into a man, and Stoick was beaming with pride.
"Come on Dad, I'm 20 now, surely we aren't doing the measuring anymore! I'm grown!" Hiccup said, fingering a notebook. The boy had been spending a lot of time filling that notebook with maps lately. Every day he spent less time on Berk.
"Well, if you finally seal the deal with Astrid and move out, you'll get to decide that. But for now you're still under my roof, and that means my rules apply!" Stoick said with a chuckle, and Hiccup rolled his eyes.
"I'm not ready for that yet! Marriage… kids… it's not us. Can we please not talk about this on my birthday?" he said, reluctantly moving next to the beam. Barely an inch of growth this year, and Stoick suspected no more would come.
"Look, Hiccup… You're twenty now, and it's time you start thinking about those things. I am so proud of all you've accomplished so far, but you could accomplish even more with her really by your side," the chief said, marking the latest line with '20'.
"And I'm not getting any younger either. It's high time we start thinking about you becoming chief," Stoick said, turning to his chest to put the knife away. Hiccup gasped loudly at the last word. "It's high time you do more chiefing lessons. No mapping all the time," he finished, turning around when he heard the door slam.
Hiccup was gone.
Gods, what was he supposed to do with that boy? He thought they had improved the past five years, but on days like this it was like he was a stubborn toddler again.
Stoick gazed at the central beam, looking at how Hiccup had grown so much over the past two decades. From that frail babe to a tall man, from an anxious overthinker to a great inventor. From a bullied child to a peacemaker.
No matter how much Hiccup refused to be chief, Stoick could see the chief was already in him. Surely soon Hiccup would see that too.
Hiccup felt smaller this year. His twenty-first birthday was supposed to be a grand affair, but without his dad it felt so empty. So he had left the party in the Great Hall early and went home. The home that was too big, despite Astrid having moved in.
Sighing deeply, he sat down in the chief's chair, way too wide for his lanky frame. His eyes fell on the thin lines on the beam before him. How often had his father looked at those lines while working? Had he felt proud? Disappointed? Encouraged?
Hiccup wished he could ask him. He wished his dad was here, prodding him to stand next to the pillar so he could be measured again. He had hated that for so long. It was always a reminder that he was short, so much smaller than his father.
But now he missed it.
"Hiccup? Are you in here?" His mother's voice rang out, moments before the front door opened.
"No fan of the crowds either, eh?" Valka said when she spotted his tired body in the chair.
Although he was an adult now, the head of the household, the head of the family, he felt small.
"I miss Dad," he simply said, gesturing at the pillar. "Every year he'd measure me, and I didn't want to. But now…" Hiccup couldn't finish the sentence. What was wrong with him? His dad died nearly a year ago, he should be over it. But somehow today was not a regular day.
"I remember this one," Valka said, kneeling so she could trace the lowest line. "You were so small, but you had still grown so much. Your father was so happy you made it through the winter he wanted to keep in mind how small you used to be. So that he wouldn't forget how hard you fought."
"Can you… Can you measure me?" Hiccup asked softly, rising from the chair to stand next to the pillar.
"Of course, love. Now, stand tall! No slouching! Ooh, about half an inch taller than last year. Though I suspect that may be because of your new boots!" Valka joked as she marked a new line with her dragontooth knife, adding a '21' in her much rounder handwriting.
"Thanks Mom," Hiccup whispered before pulling her into a hug.
"I'm sorry I missed all those birthdays. I should have been here, to see you grow up. Seeing these lines isn't enough. But I'm glad you found me, so I got to see what an amazing man you grew up to be. Happy birthday, my son," Valka said, returning the hug.
Little Thora fussed a lot as Astrid pushed her upright against the pillar. The girl was full of energy, always eager to crawl away and explore. Normally Hiccup encouraged it, but right now he just wanted his daughter to stay still so he could carve a line. His hand trembled slightly as he marked her length, several inches higher than his own first-year line, a quarter-circle to the left on the pillar.
Astrid and him had decided to continue the tradition with their own children. This year was the first year Hiccup hadn't added his own measurement, though the line for '25' would surely just overlap with last year's. It was incredible to see how much his daughter had grown over the past year, from the small thing Astrid had born to the healthy strong baby they had now.
And if Astrid's swollen belly was an indication, their next child wouldn't be any smaller.
"Oh Thora, you're already so big! Nearly as big as I was at twice your age! I never overtook my dad, but I'm thinking you will," he told the girl, lifting her up to his shoulders. Astrid laughed, putting her arms around him, and Hiccup felt bigger and taller than any of the lines on the pillar.