Three year old Hiccup stares at his father.

Stoick the Vast was crying. It was silent, and the tears were falling on their own, sliding down his neutral face.

Did he even know he was crying?

Hiccup had always imagined his dad and a superhero. He could take on the toughest dragons and solve any village problem.

Watching his father cry destroyed that image, and being a regular (if not selfish) three year old, he set it upon himself to get what he wanted. And what he wanted now was for Dad to stop crying.

"Daddy," he said in an authorizing voice. "Stowp cwying!"*

Stoick jumped as he heard Hiccup's voice. He quickly wiped the tears off his face, and turned to Hiccup, who had a rather serious expression on his face.

"What do you mean, Hiccup?" Stoick forced a smile.

Hiccup's face softened, and he walked over to his Dad. He tried to climb onto his lap, but failed to do so until Stoick picked him up.

He sat cross legged, staring at his daddy, cocking his head.

"Why wur yu cwyin?"**

"I'm a Viking Hiccup. Vikings don't cry," Stoick said gently, ruffling Hiccup's hair.

"Oh," the boy replied. "Den wy was yo eyes sweadin?"***

Stoick stared at his son for a moment, before breaking out a smile (not as forced as before).

"You have your mother's humor," he said, a sad glint in his eye.

Hiccup seemed to remember something at the moment, and jumped off Stoick's lap. He fell on the floor, having landed wrong and Stoick made a move to stand.

"Eets owkai, eets owkai," Hiccup quickly stood up, brushing himself and running off again.****

He came back seconds later, panting and out of breath. What a clumsy boy.

He had a half-finished blanket in his hands.

"Look Daddy," he said, holding it out. "Momma was sown it befor leeveen on da twip."*****

Stoick took the blanket, and looked at it for a while. The blanket had been meant for Hiccup. It was a soft green and very warm.

It would never be finished now.

Val had promised to come back in less than two moths, but almost a year had passed and there was no sign of the ship she'd taken on her trip.

She was gone.

Stoick grabbed Hiccup and pulled him into a hug, wrapping the half-blanket around him.

Then he started to cry again. He made sure to hide his face from Hiccup, not wanting his son to know he was crying and that anything was wrong at all.

Hiccup stood in his father's grasp, looking at the wall in numb shock.

He cast his eyes downward, and a similar sad glint came upon them. His lip started to quiver, and a tear fell.

Because he already knew. Momma was not coming back anytime soon and probably never would return.

A small sob escaped his mouth.

Stop, he told himself. Vikings don't cry.

But I'm just a little boy.

Vikings don't cry.

Then why was Daddy... Oh...No; Daddy was sweating through his eyes.

Then I'll do the same.

And they both "sweated through their eyes" for a long time.


When Hiccup turned five years old, he could no longer remember these events, and to this day, he believes Stoick the Vast has never shed a tear in his life.


* "Stop Crying!"

** "Why were you crying?"

*** "Then why was(were) your eyes sweating?"

**** "It's okay, it's okay."

***** "Momma was sewing(knitting) it before leaving on the trip."