Portraits at the Hall
"Hamish II was a hiccup, just like me."
The great Stoick the Vast, Chief of Berk, was walking through the Meade Hall when his son's words began ringing in his head. The man sighted at his son's actions today. How many more times would Hiccup endanger himself because of his sire's stupid actions? First it was the Red Death and now because of his reaction to that Thor-forsaken painting. Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, if his boy had not picked the feather he would not be alive to tell the tale of the real Hamish II. Eventually, his wandering brought him to the portraits of the chiefs and their heirs, more precisely in front of the one of him and his son. It brought a smile to see his son so happy, it was not every day that the two of them could spend time together. Stoick's chiefing duties and Hiccup's Dragon Academy made sure that their only quality time together was late at night.
The proud father turned to another painting, the one with the Hamishes, and his smile immediately turned into a frown. He may not have told Hiccup, but he knew that Hamish II was a hiccup, it just wasn't a subject that was talked throughout the village. All of the villagers swore that they would never talk about that day. A day so dark that no one even gave a hint, not even a whisper of its existence, which is why the younger generations knew nothing about it. Stoick himself was quite young when it happened, but he would never forget. He would never forget that day thirty-seven years ago.
"Raise the torches! We can't let 'em get away with the sheep!" An enormous viking yelled as he jumped towards a Deadly Nadder. It was normal for Vikings to be abruptly woken up in the middle of the night by the alarms warning of a dragon attack. Since their village was closer to the nest than others, they saw the devils frequently.
"Where is the water—dammit!" The same Viking was interrupted when the Nadder released its poisonous spikes, forcing him to defend himself.
The village of Berk was in total chaos. The houses were engulfed in flames, one of the catapults had fallen, as well as one of the torches, bringing several houses down with it. Vikings fought fiercely to protect their property, stubborn to the end in order to keep the bare necessities to survive the winter.
Berk was not a rich place, the constant attacks saw to that. Still, a great part of their misery came from the fact that their leader was not a man respected by his peers. Hamish II was not a village's conventional leader, his small physique and sickly complexity made everyone wary of him, specially other chiefs who became less eager of trading with Berk as the years went by. The rest of the archipelago were not ready to trade with a village constantly attacked by dragons and had a leader that appeared unfit to lead.
After what seemed to be an incredibly long time, the dragons left. That meant that it was time to start the preparations. Stoick, a child of merely seven years old runs with a bucket in hand and a best friend beside him ready to give a hand to adults controlling the fires. The attack had ended hours ago, but the reparations could only just begin seeing as many men were being patched up by the healer and the sheep were being counted. The young Viking could only stare in awe as numerous Berkians removed burned wood from houses in order to replace it with new logs. The houses that were burnt beyond salvation were taken down and built again from scratch. Stoick noted that the fire damage seemed to be worse than usual, even though he and the rest of the children his age tried to fight the fires, they proved to be too much for the few of them.
"This will take quite the manpower to rebuild." Stoick's father, Magnus the Ferocious, said. The magnificent man was standing next to his son as he saw the rebuilding of the village. The man looked just like his father, a great auburn beard, a bear sized body, and admirable leadership skills. "You three, get back to work!" He yelled at a group of men who appeared to be slacking off. The men appeared to have gotten out of whatever trance they were in and jumped quickly back to work. "At this pace it will take us days to rebuild everything." Magnus continued.
"Magnus!" A man approached Stoick and his father he was a big sized man, not as big as his father, who was missing an eye. This man's name was Thorvald and he was known for being in charge of dragon training. He was a formidable man capable of bringing down even the most ferocious of beasts. He was one of Berk's mightiest fighters, able to fight armies by himself as a means to help the rest of the villagers. The two men started whispering for a long time, Stoick being unable to hear them as the sounds of the village's reparations prevented it. As the exchange was taking place, it appeared to be getting more and more heated with every uttered word but their volume never rose. The conversation lasted a few more minutes when finally Thorvald and Magnus shared a look. It appeared to be a very meaningful look from what the seven-year-old could tell. The two men nodded to one another before going their separate ways. More men approached Magnus and whispered to him, Stoick managed to hear a single word "chief."
Eventually, Stoick and his father went home after the rebuilding was, mostly, finished. Stoick's mother was preparing food for her family before all of them headed off to their individual duties. Magnus the Fearless was the man in charge of collecting wood for the village while his son played around the village and occasionally trained. The black haired lady looked at her family with a warm smile before digging in into her plate. Magnus finished his fish off quickly before grabbing his helmet ant marching out the door, but not without giving his wife a kiss on the lips.
"I'll be back for dinner." The big man announced, then walked out of the door.
The hours went by as Stoick played with his friends, regardless of him being the youngest one of them all he was very mature for his age. The sun was just at the horizon when the auburn haired boy began to feel a commotion in the house atop of the hill, the chief's house. The group of boys went to over and saw Hamish II being surrounded by a great group of Vikings, all of whom appeared to show displeasure, if their faces were anything to go on by.
"When are we going to get some answers?" Yelled a woman with copper colored hair.
"The village can't stand it anymore!" Yelled a man.
"We hav' no relations with other villagers! Our trade is a' its weakes' poin' in 300 yea's!" Exclaimed a man with a missing arm and bite marks on the other.
The chief was looking very nervous and appeared to be retreating into the safety of his home. Yet, with every step the chief took the crowd continued to move forward. The furious crowd advanced forward trapping the chief between his door and the fuming mob. Suddenly, Magnus stepped forward, placing some distance between the Berkians and chief.
"You need to go." He said without any preamble.
"Wh-what?" Hamish II managed to stutter out.
"You need to leave. You are no longer able to rule this village." Magnus continued, an expressionless look upon his face. Behind the rest of the group Stoick was taking in everything that was taking place. The boy could not believe it! They were exiling their own chief from the island. This was an event unprecedented in Berkian history. Yes, they were known for sending their hiccups out to sea, but never their leaders, never their leaders.
Hamish was gob smacked and in his shock he managed to sputter out, "You can't exile me! I am the chief!"
"Exactly, a chief who is running this village to the ground." Magnus said, he then threw an arm back towards the rest of the villagers. "Just look at them Hamish! Look at them and tell me what you see. They are running themselves ragged just because you can't lead us."
"Wait! Just wait! A couple of days, I promise I'll do better." Hamish tried to beg.
Magnus frowned and crossed his arms, "No excuses Hamish." And then with an air of finality he said, "Leave."
Suddenly, Hamish turned serious. "Fine, I'll leave, but you'll rue this day."
At the port, there was a single boat carrying one Hamish II towards wherever the gods deemed appropriate. The villagers surrounded the ship, making sure that it left. The berkians did not stay quiet though. They were uttering numerous atrocities about their ex-leader. Stoick stared in awe at the people, before his father silenced them with a boisterous yell. The villagers quieted down immediately.
"Anything you want to say?" Magnus addressed the skinny man on the boat.
"Only one. I have no heirs and because of this I worked day and night ensuring the safety and well-being of the village. For this sole purpose, I accumulated a fortune large enough to sustain the village for years after my passing." Hamish II said. Gasps could be heard after his confession, but he was not quite done. "Regardless of this, I have left maps that lead to my treasure. A warning though, not anyone will be able to find this treasure, for I have hidden it so well that only another one can find it." And with that, he sailed away. Away from the village that had repudiated him and exiled him from his own home.
The crowd watched the ship sail away in silence, they were all astonished by his words. As soon as they were unable to see the boat any longer, the mob dispersed, ready to begin the search for the maps that Hamish II had left behind.
Berk descended into chaos. There was not order as there was no leader. Everyone became mad for the search of the treasure. This was the village that Stoick saw every day for two weeks until he too acquired one. Gobber had stolen it from Mildew and so the two friends started their search for the treasure. They had solved the first clue, or at least they thought so. They arrived at the beach and once there they began digging in the sand. They did this for an entire week without any positive results.
"Gobber, I can't find it!" Stoick yelled, extremely angered at the fact that they hadn't found anything.
"I can see tha', Stoick." Gobber said exasperated. "Why don' we check the glacier?"
Stoick turned red in anger. "The glacier! It can't be there. It has to be here, you just aren't digging deep enough."
Gobber began getting angry, "We've been 'ere fer a week an' we haven' foun' anythin'!"
"You know what? Fine! I'm done searching with you!" Stoick threw his shovel and stopped on his feet when he saw his father. "D-dad. What are you doing here?"
"You too, get back to the village. We are having a meeting. This has gone on long enough." Magnus said and with that, the three marched back to the village. Stoick's and Gobber's argument was completely forgotten. Once they arrived at the Meade Hall, the two boys saw that the entire village had gathered within the immense building. Magnus took his place in front of everyone.
"This is madness! Look at yourselves. You have all gone mad. And for what? A treasure that we don't know where it is?" This village looked ashamed. No one could look at Magnus straight in the eye. "I'm putting an end to this. I want each and every single one of those maps destroyed." Before the villagers could argue, he added. "We don't need this gold to survive. We are berkians, surely we can survive without his gold. We just need to work together."
That's when things began to turn up in Berk. First, they removed Hamish II's portrait from the Hall and since he had no heir, it was easy to appoint Magnus as their new leader. The man had everything a leader should have: a strong commanding voice, and ability to lead by example, and the adoration of his people. Stoick rejoiced under his father's new title, and he also began to see the village change before his very eyes. He was present when a trading agreement was signed between Berk and the Bog-burglars, the first of many. He was also present when his father traveled to the mainland in order to purchase more livestock. He was there when his father and the rest of the village agreed to never speak of what happened to Hamish II ever again. And then finally, after a year, Stoick was present when Berk began to prosper once again.
Yes their history had dark days, but Stoick would not let that deter him in his quest towards a brighter and better Berk. Their actions towards their hiccup of a chief were horrible and they would haunt the Hairy Hooligans for the rest of their lives, specially knowing that their savior was one of them, a hiccup.
AN: I have finally posted something new! Sorry for leaving you guys hanging for so long but university has been attempting to murder me. Besides that, the inspiration for this story came from Riders of Berk's 8th episode "Portrait of Hiccup as a Buff Young Man" from the portraits themselves. It you notice, there is no portrait for Hamish II and his heir (assuming that ALL chiefs and their heirs did that) so I figured that something must have happened. This is a little story as to what must have happened. As always, reviews are welcomed and have a nice day!
-If Wishes Were Dragons