My Hiccup
The wind was howling like an enraged dragon as the ships moored in Hooligan harbor. Stoick tossed the rope to his flag ship to Gobber who waited anxiously on the pier with a number of other men, some warriors but many local farmers who rushed to secure the ships against the harsh winter wind that seemed to be beating of the little Isle of Berk far more than usual for early March. By now the Gods were more forgiving and the first hints of spring and warming of the sun were beginning. It seemed it would be a long winter this year which made Stoick fear for the amount of supplies and food in storage and if there was enough to last the season. He mentally made calculations as he handed off supplies and made sure his warriors were all safely off the ships before following. He clasped Gobber's arms and hauled himself onto the dock.
"A bad omen," Mildew grumbled as he stared up at the grey sky and endlessly falling snow. The old warrior tapped the sword hanging off his belt anxiously. "Another leap year to anger Loki."
Gobber waved him off, not one to take Mildew and his warnings seriously. "Bah! It's just a winter storm. It'll be over by morning."
Mildew gave him a glare then headed up to his home at the top of the mountain, a long trek he had been making since he was a young man. No one tried to stop him nor made an offer for him to hunker down somewhere in town. They would have fallen on deaf ears anyway.
Stoick shook his head. Mildew always expected the worse. "How is she?" he asked instead as he and Gobber wade their way through the knee deep snow toward the chief's hut. He paused mid strut at the serious look that crossed his best friend's face. "Gobber?"
"Well…" the blacksmith began. "I've got good news and some bad."
"Gobber…" Stoick groaned, his worry growing. "Is Val alright?"
The older man waved his hand dismissively. "Valka's fine. A little upset but…"
Stoick's breath hitched and eyes widened. "The baby!"
"Pretty as his mother if not a little quiet," Gobber chattered as if nothing was wrong, a smile lighting his face.
Stoick stared at him for a long minute. "A boy?"
Gobber nodded, his grin growing.
"But…she's not due for another month!"
"Guess he was anxious to meet you."
The young chief's bright green eyes flickered as his studied Gobber's deep blue ones. Then a slow smile spread across his face and with an excited shout he ran the rest of the way home, leaving Gobber far behind.
Gobber gave a laugh and yanked up his trousers, his belt not quite keeping them up all the way. "Yelp…guess my work is done," he muttered to himself before turning on his wooden stump and heading toward his own home.
Stoick burst into his house, excitement in every step. "Val!" he called, looking around for his beloved wife. The fire in the hearth burned brightly but his young wife was nowhere in sight.
"In here," came a soft voice from their bedroom and Stoick immediately followed it, his joy growing when Valka came in sight. Ah…she was as beautiful as ever even with her auburn hair in a tangled mess around her slim shoulders and a worried little frown marred her lovely face as a shimmer of tears began to roll down her cheeks. "Stoick…" she whispered.
In her arms was the tiniest bundle Stoick had ever seen. She held it protectively against her chest as if terrified to let it go. Stoick knew at once it was his son she held with such just possessiveness.
"I'm sorry," she whimpered, the tears now flowing freely. Her father, Wrinkly, stood by her bed and reached down to squeeze her shoulder with one hand as he gave Stoick a challenging look. Valka didn't seem to notice. "He came early and he's so tiny. So very…very tiny." She gazed down at the bundle tearfully. "He doesn't make a sound."
Stoick said nothing a first. He didn't know what to say to comfort her. According to tradition a child so small should be placed in a small boat and sent to sea. If they survived then they were gifted by Thor and could be part of the tribe. But preemies rarely survived, especially this small and in the midst of one of the worst winters Berk had ever seen.
He took a deep breath and strolled up to his wife's side to finally get a good look at their son. A small pudgy face rest against Valka's breast, his little mouth latched to her nipple as he fed. His eyes were screwed shut but Stoick was almost certain that they would match Valka's emerald ones. He reached down and ran one large thumb along the infant's cheek. "He's perfect, Val," he told her, his voice gentle. The child could easily fit in one of his large hands he was so small. But when the boy opened his eyes to reveal a perfect blend of both his parents eyes Stoick knew…he knew that everything was going to be okay.
"He won't last the winter," Valka sobbed.
He took the child in his arms and held him close. "No…no, Val. He'll be fine. He may be small but he's strong, I can see it. He'll be the strongest of us all. Our little Hiccup is going to grow up and be the greatest chief the world has ever known. He'll tame the dragons and end this war. You just wait and see."
And while the words were meant to comfort his wife and set her heart at ease Stoick never dreamed of just how true his words would be.
