Watching your Son Grow Up
Stoick the Vast has always tried to never, ever, acknowledge any cuddly warm feelings. They make you vulnerable, and you can't afford to be vulnerable when you're the chief of one of the toughest Viking tribes out there.
But the façade of a hard and stern leader fades from Stoick's face as he looks down at his son, nestled in Val's arms. The boy was not born with the usual kicking and screaming of most babes, but came into life quietly, eyes wide open as the midwife washed him and handed him to Val. Stoick was already proud of his son. Quiet, strong based off of his grip on Stoick's finger, and he already had Val's eyes.
Val looked up at him, her own bright emerald eyes shining. "Stoick, you better be a good father." She smiles, joy written across her face for the baby she holds. "Don't be stoick Stoick to him. Be Dad Stoick to him."
Stoick nods, and places his huge hand on Val's arm. "Don't you worry." And his grin, so rarely shown, shines like a lit Monstrous Nightmare. "Hiccup will always know love. From both of us."
"Hiccup?" Val asks questioningly.
"Gobber wanted to name the tike. Says it will keep away trolls." Stoick snorts, eyes still locked on his wife and infant son.
Val laughs.
~How to Train Your Dragon~
Stoick blinks, eyes almost watering, but not quite. Thor, why hadn't he been there? Why?
Because he had believed his tiny wife when she said she could handle the dragon, then he had run off to fight something else. Instead of staying with her like he should have. And now Val… Val was gone. Not lost. If she were lost, she might come back. She was gone. Taken by the Nightmare, carried off from her tribe. From him. From Hiccup. And the only thing left of her was her breastplate, identifiable by the designs Gobber had painstakingly made on it for her wedding gift.
Sadly, Stoick pushes open the large door to his large house. What in Hel was he going to tell Hiccup? The boy was only three. He shouldn't be separated already.
"Daddy!" Little Hiccup ran to his father, smile wide, his few teeth showing. "Dragons?" He asks, eyes shining, face animated. The boy looked around. "Where's Mommy?" He asks, utter bewilderment visible on his face as he tries to look around Stoick, to find his mother. But he won't find her. Because she is gone.
Stoick can't help it. He roars his frustration, tears finally streaming down his cheeks. Hiccup claps his hands over his ears, eyes wide. Stoick has never done this. Stoick has never been this weak.
Sobbing, as un-Viking-like as he could be, Stoick gathers his son into his arms. There's not much to gather, but Stoick needs warmth. Needs to feel Val, even if he has to rely on his son, the boy without a mother.
~How to Train Your Dragon~
"Dad? Where are we going? Are we gonna go get fish? Can you leave the eel in the barrel? I hate eel. Especially smoked." Hiccup chatters beside Stoick, almost running to keep up with his father's long strides. Stoick looks down at the boy. He is seven. He can handle this. Stoick was helping in dragon raids at seven.
A little voice, one that sounds suspiciously like Val's, reminds him that Hiccup is little. Small, much smaller than Stoick was at that age. But Stoick pushes the voice away. Hiccup will never get bigger if he doesn't do hard work. The voice pipes up again. Snotlout doesn't do any work, and he's plenty big. Don't force our son.
Stoick ignores the voice and Hiccup still chattering beside him. It hurts that Hiccup is so much like Val, so little like Stoick. He feels that he should always protect the child. But it's not possible. Besides, Hiccup has to learn a trade at some point.
Stoick leads Hiccup into Gobber's forge. "Gobber?" He calls. He doesn't want to do this. But it will keep Hiccup out of danger during dragon raids, and busy during dull times.
The short blacksmith looks up from his work. Stoick can see him carefully doing one of the things he hates the most. Bridal bracelets. Gobber often complained that they were too much work, and too tiny and delicate for his huge hand. This might be a selling point.
"Eh? Why'd you bring Hiccup?" Gobber asks, putting aside his work and straightening out of his chair. Gobber liked Hiccup. Like a nephew. He wouldn't be totally adverse to this.
"Hiccup is old enough for apprenticeship." Was all Stoick said. Gobber's eyes widened.
"Stoick, th' boy is too littl'." Gobber said, eyes on Hiccup, who was happily looking around, putting his nose in places that he probably shouldn't. Stoick bristled slightly.
"Ya know wha I mean." Gobber shrugged apologetically.
"He has littl' hands. He can do the tiny work you hate." Gobber's eyes lit up at the prospect.
"Fine. But you owe. Come here, Tike." Gobber reached out to Hiccup. Hiccup ran over and hugged him around his vast middle. Hiccup's arms didn't even make it half way around the smith, he was so small. "How'd you like to work in the forge?" Gobber asks. Hiccup's eyes shine, and he nods.
Stoick leaves quietly. As he stands out in the open, he turns his eyes to the sky. "Don't you worry, Val. Hiccup is safe with Gobber." Stoick promises. The sun brightens momentarily, then fades.
~How to Train Your Dragon~
"Dad!" Inside, Stoick smiles at the sound of Hiccup's voice. He does love the lad. Hiccup just frustrates him beyond belief most of the time.
Stoick turns to his son, face neutral. He is surrounded by other warriors. It wouldn't do to show his affection. He was Stoick the Vast, chief of the tribe. He was not some emotional fool.
"Dad, look at this!" Hiccup is obvious excited, holding up an axe. Stoick has to admire the workmanship. It's beautiful, one of the best axes he has seen in a while. Engravings are on the blade, and the handle does not wiggle as Hiccup holds it up as best he can with his spindly arms.
"Where'd ya find tha'?" Spitelout, one of the warriors that Stoick was talking to before Hiccup interrupted, breaks in. He bends down to admire the work, fingers running lightly over the blade.
Hiccup puffs himself up slightly. It's barely noticeable, but Stoick sees a new gleam enter his eyes and some of the slump leave his shoulders. "I made it." He proclaims, slight pride evident in his voice.
Stoick blinks, face still impassive. His Hiccup, his twiggy son made this weapon? If he hadn't known better, he would have thought it was one of Gobber's works.
"Dad, I have a weapon now." Hiccup pleads. "Can I start Dragon Training?"
Stoick straightens to his full height. No. No, he had thought Hiccup wouldn't be able to make anything more than a dagger for another three years. The lad was only ten. Much too young to face anything bigger than a rabbit. And the rabbit would get the better of the fight. "No. You're too small." Stoick makes sure to crush the hope. It's not that he doesn't want his boy to be able to fight, it's just… Val. Val was taken by a dragon. He couldn't keep his mask of calm and judgment if Hiccup were to leave too.
"Oh." Hiccup obviously slumps, the axe, too heavy for him, taking his arms down a few inches with its weight. Stoick feels bad, terrible, like a Terrible Terror had just decided to make a nest in his chest. It had been a low blow, to remind Hiccup of his size. But if it kept Hiccup safe, well. Sacrifices had to be made.
"Why don't ya save that axe until you're a wee bit bigger?" Gobber breaks in, trying to sooth the ruffled and down-trodden feeling of his apprentice. "I bet 'n a year, you'll be out thare wi' th' best of 'em."
Hiccup brightens again. "Thanks, Gobber." He beams, and turns to hurry back to the forge, undoubtly to make some bowl or something for the house. The boy had found his place in the smoke and hard work of the forge.
"Thanks, Gobber." Stoick nodded to the blacksmith.
"An' don' ya forget it." Gobber glared up at him. "Th' boy loves ya. Take some time for him. Ya apparently have no idea how long an' hard Hiccup worked on tha'. He kept going on about how ya would appreciate him once ya saw his work. So you betta' praise him tonight when he shows you one of the little thins he's been working on for yar birthday."
Stoick nods, knowing once he gets home, Hiccup will be more than willing to let by-gones be by-gones.
~How to Train Your Dragon~
"Aah!" A Viking scream sounds. Stoick looks up at the sound.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Stoick rubs his head at the sound of his boy's apologizing before he strides over to see what the problem was and how he could clean up after Hiccup. Again. Hiccup has gotten clumsier in the past year, and so much more willing to 'help'. Stoick has repeatedly told him to stop helping and go… Go… Go do something that was useful and he couldn't destruct.
Stoick looks over the scene in front of him. Hacknee's oldest daughter, Amphrite, sits in a pile of fish, a basket resting at her feet. Hiccup is hurriedly picking up the slimy things and trying to put them back in their basket, but keeps dropping them.
"What now?" Stoick grumbles, hands on hips, surveying the damage.
"Uh, hi, Dad. Hi." Hiccup stammers, cleaning as fast as he can.
"Useless here just dropped a basket of fish." Amphrite reports, standing up and straightening her skirt, glaring at Hiccup.
Stoick almost growls at the tone of voice she uses while talking about his son. Almost. He can't deny that the name 'Hiccup the Useless' isn't warranted, but he doesn't have to like it. But Hiccup will someday prove them wrong. Someday, Hiccup will show them how useful he is. But, for now…
"Hiccup." Stoick turns to glare at the boy, who's only half done cleaning up the mess. Hiccup cowers before squeaking a "Yeah, Dad?"
"Pick up this fish. And go back to the forge. Take the sword in the house with you. I want it sharpened and cleaned." Stoick orders. Internally, he winces at how mean he sounds. He doesn't mean it that way, he just wants the lad out of his hair.
Hiccup nods, head down, still picking up fish. Stoick turns, and goes back to his work.
~How to Train Your Dragon~
Hi. So, yeah, that's it. All I wanted to do was show how Stoick saw his boy as he grew. I think this is far from my best work, but I liked it. It showed why Stoick was so overbearing and mean to Hiccup. And that Stoick, for all of his gruffness, loves Hiccup. In the movie, we saw his opinion change, and why. I just wanted to write up until that point.
So, if you liked this, thought I could have done better, or think I should stop writing, leave me a review!
Thank you to all of my reviewers for 'Opinions Change'. I didn't think it would do so well!
'Til next time!
-The Irish Lass