Chapter 1

I do not own How To Train Your Dragon

If Stoic the Vast knew that he was going to babysit while Hiccup and Astrid went on a scouting trip, then he would have busied himself with other, more Viking-like tasks. But no, he had to accept, and know here he was, hurrying across the village to the Haddock's hut.

As Stoic strode by, he ran over the list of things he knew about his granddaughter. Not many gave him much hope. She went after Astrid more than Hiccup, so she was stubborn, tomboyish, liked knives and other pointy objects, and already knew how to throw an axe. She was known to argue, was bossy (Hiccup liked to call it "natural leadership qualities") and wouldn't take no for an answer. She was a natural around dragons, but that didn't give Stoic much hope. He dimly recalled a time when three or four boys were arguing over which dragons their fathers owned, and Nola had stepped in impatiently and won the argument. It went something like this:

"My daddy's got a Groncle."

"Yeah? My daddy's got a Nadder."

"Wimps! My father has a Monsterest Nightmare!"

At which Nola said, "My daddy's got a Night Fury!"

Stoic reached the door. Taking a deep breath, he raised his fist to knock… and paused. The door was flung wide open, and a little four-year-old girl with blond hair and bright green eyes was standing in the doorway. "Stoic, wright?" Said Viking nodded. "Come in." She grabbed his hand, and with surprising strength, steered him into the kitchen. Nola shoved a chair out for him and pushed him into it. "Sit." Stoic watched with amusement as she grabbed a platter of biscuits, two mugs, a bottle of ale, and some water. With great effort, she poured the ale into one of the mugs (spilling some) and the water into the other. She tossed the ale into the pantry and carefully brought the brimming mugs and biscuits over to the table, handing one to Stoic. "Fish buiscuits? Momma made them fresh this morning." Stoic stared at the roll. A fish head stared back. "Er… No, thank you." Undeterred, Nola pulled the plate over to her and grabbed one. Stoic took a draught of ale and glanced at his granddaughter. "You do know that you're not supposed to drink?" Nola swallowed a mouthful of bread and grimaced. "I know. Momma gave some to me when I was sick once and it tasted aweful." Stoic watched as she shoved her food away and hopped off her chair (she had to stand on it to come level with her grandfather) "Can you show me how to swordfight now? Momma taught me axe-throwing and Daddy taught me dragon training bur neither taught me swordfighting and I really want to know." Stoic looked down on her and raised an eyebrow. "Show me your axe-throwing." Bored, Nola pulled a wooden axe from her belt and chucked it at a target on the wall.

The blade bounced off the center.

Stoic's other eyebrow went up. "Well done. Now do you have a sword for me?" Nola handed him a toy sword and Stoic went through the basic moves, his granddaughter watching, enraptured. "Now you try it." Nola did her best to copy while Stoic gave her tips. "Chin up… no, no that's a downward slash, not an upsweep…"

By the time Hiccup and Astrid came home, both Grandfather and Grandchild were sweaty and grinning. Nola ran to Astrid, dropping her weapon. "Momma! Granddad taught me swordfighting!" As Stoic walked out into the cool evening air, he was smiling.

He'd found a Heir, after all.

A/N

Aw… that was fun to write. I know Nola is a weird name, but it popped into my head last night and I didn't want to change it. And to clear it up, Nola says the "w" in sword, 'cause she's four, after all.

Love y'all!

~TheGirlWithTheBird