"Hiccup."
The 22 year-old didn't even flinch. Stoick sighed and stared down at his son's sleeping form, his body sprawled across his desk, papers spread out over the surface.
"Hiccup."
Hiccup shot to his feet, his arms flailing and knocking off a tin of charcoal to the ground. He swiped at a piece of paper that was stuck to his cheek and slapped it down on the desk hurriedly.
"Dad," he panted. "S-Sorry. I must've fallen asleep last night." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm working on a new project."
Stoick stared down at the mess of drawings and scribbles on the desk. "I don't know if working is the right word."
Hiccup was oblivious to his father's unimpressed glare. "I'm trying to invent this sort of 'flying suit' so that I can just jump off of Toothless' back, and then BAM, I'm flying." He reddened. "After I finish reading over that, uh, that thing you wanted me to look at."
"That thing," Stoick was going to rant, but he stopped himself. Hiccup's unintersted attitude toward the financial situation of Berk was not a priority. "Nevermind. But I have news."
"Yeah?" Hiccup knelt down and began picking up the charcoal, dropping them into the tin one by one with a plunk, plunk, plunk. "What is it?"
"It's been spotted."
plunk. "What has?"
"The ship. Just off Raven Point. She's here, Hiccup."
Silence.
"Merida?"
"Yes."
Hiccup's face went pale, all evidence of blood flow disappearing. "How long?"
"3 hours, tops." Stoick sighed, staring at his son. "You'd better get cleaned up."
Hiccup nodded and set the tin down on the desk. "Great."
Merida was a 21 year old Scottish princess, a girl who had turned down 15 proposals, a girl whose parents didn't know what to do with.
And he had to marry her.
It had all started 2 months ago, on a stormy evening. Hiccup was lying in front of the fireplace, fast asleep, a tiring day of discussing Berk's politics with his father finally over. It was all part of a plan to educate Hiccup on how to run a Viking Tribe. Stoick stressed this education and its importance because, as he put it, someday he'd be dead and everyone would depend on Hiccup.
It scared Hiccup silly.
Stoick was working on a map, updating it. Once in a while he'd glance over at his son. He knew Hiccup would have no trouble finding a wife to produce an heir. He was a good looking young man, now, all awkwardness and gangly limbs gone. After training over a hundred dragons since he was 16, his body was fairly toned and muscled, and he had grown. He and the other Vikings his age and younger would not be as huge as their parents, as dragon fighting days, the days that put the huge amount of muscle on their parents, were over.
In other words, they didn't look like walking houses.
A knock on the door came. Stoick answered it, stretching as he walked towards the door. It was Snotlout, who was working part time as a dragon courier, clutching a damp letter in his hand.
"From Scotland," he panted. "DunBroch."
Stoick stiffened visibly. Scotland was Berk's biggest enemy. War had been talked of, on both sides, for the past few months, and the tension between the two was so thick it almost felt as if you could ut it with a butter knife.
"Thank you," he said, taking the letter in a huge hand. There it was, the red seal.
He opened it without hesitation. he wasn't one for drama. However, after reading it, once more for good measure, all fear and worry was gone. It was not a proposal of war, but quite the contrary. A proposal of marriage.
For Hiccup.
To Stoick, Chieftan of the Berk Viking tribe,
respectfully from Queen Elinor and King Fergus, of DunBroch, Scotland.
Stoick, we know that then tension between Berk and Scotland is heavy, and it is taking its toll on our people. However, we have a solution.
1 year ago, our daughter turned down her 15th proposal of marriage. Since then, though, she has realized what a big importance it is for her to produce an heir, and we have been searching for a suitor in Scotland. There anre no more in this country who have the courage to ask her or go through woth the marriage.
With your tribe and our country talking of war, we have decided that the best solution would be for Merida to marry your son. She is 21 years old now, and we understand your son is not much older. If anyone can handle her, it is a Viking.
Awaiting your reply,
Queen Elinor, written in her own hand.
Stoick's first reaction was shock. The second, laughter. His worries were for nothing. However, it was truly the best solution, one that could create an alliance.
And so he told his son.
Now, Hiccup was awaiting the arrival of his soon-to-be fiancee, hurriedly washing his face and combing his hair with shaking fingers. His friends had aken the news well. He and Astrid had been over a long time, but she hadn't taken it very well. That meant her storming away and practicing her axe throwing.
Hiccup honestly didn't have feelings for Astrid anymore, but that didn't mean that he wanted to marry a girl he had never met, from a country that had been talking of war only a few months ago.
Did she even know about the dragons. Every time someone on Berk opened a door, or looked out a window, they saw dragons. Everywhere. It was nice, to have the beasts on their side. But for visitors from Scotland, who possibly hadn't heard of Berk's unique characteristic, it could be very shocking.
Hiccup shrugged. Oh they scared off Merida so badly that she never returned, would it bother him?
Nope.
Well, I guess I'm starting a new one. A whole lot of credit goes to Dragons-of Berk, as she's the one who gave me the idea for this story. We have it all planned out. You should check out her stories. I have read some of them and they are great HTTYD fanfics!
Please let me know what you think, review favourite, follow!
Thanks :D