Prologue
Authors Note: This story is based off the idea of what would have happened if Hiccup had been a true Prodigy, and if the isolation and mistreatment from his father and village had caused a different Hiccup to be formed. Please review and let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Dreamworks.
"From the time he could crawl he's been…different."
Viking children were all built the same. They are all round and healthy due to the hardy ways Vikings eat. They come into the world kicking and screaming as though they are ready to take on the dragons from the moment they breathe air. Their families yell with pride when their small Vikings grip the ceremonial baby weapons. From small axes to maces, these weapons show the strength they will one day possess. Yet one did not due this. When he came into the world, he gazed around in wonder yet did not cry. When his father held the miniature ax, that was an exact replica of the one he carried on his hip but was the size of a small pencil, his son reached past the ax to grip his father's finger. While his mother smiled a soft smile, his father scowled as this was not the Viking way. He had come into the world to early, and it was not only this that made him an unusual Viking child.
The elder believed him not be breathing, until she stared into his bright green eyes. He gazed back with an unfathomable amount of clarity. She had never seen a babe, look at her and seem to acknowledge her presence. Though he was small and sickly, he fought like the devil to survive past what any believed he would. The elder had given him very few weeks to live, part because of the unusualness of his gaze. No child she had helped birth had ever looked her directly in the eye as though to say hello. As she watched the new mother hold her child, she watched as he looked around himself as though to memorize the very air he breathed. She would never forget that moment, because, though she did not know it then, it was the moment she met the child that would change their world.
Though the child was still small, he showed growth in ways other children would not show for many months. From the moment he began to crawl he explored the world in which he lived. The toys his mother had provided were full of puzzles that he solved within minutes. While children his age were learning to move and not hurt themselves, he was learning to speak and use his surroundings to help him. He spent most of his young years, listening to his mother speak of the majestic beasts that spewed fire. While he never picked up the ax created by his father, he did pick up a pencil. When his father found out about this his disapproval was evident for all to see, especially for the small boy left holding the broken pieces of his treasured pencils. It was during this time that he realized that his size could be used to his advantage as he found small places to explore, and later hide, from his parents.
The death of the mother of this child brought great sorrow of the household and was the catalyst of the distance that would grow between a father and son. It was this curiosity that he shared with his mother and his inability to act like a true strong Viking, that would cause his father to resent his presence. It was too much of a reminder of the woman that he loved. Yet his child suffered from his inability to see past the eyes and intelligence he inherited from his mother. The father spent so much time avoiding his son or disapproving of his manner, that he never realized what he truly endured or the fact that his son was someone truly special. He was a prodigy of the highest degree, a child who saw the world past the borders of his home. His name was Hiccup Haddock the Third and this is his story.