Warning: !SPOILERS! Major spoilers for How To Train Your Dragon 2 and slight spoilers for Riders of Berk and Defenders of Berk.
Author's Note: Originally, this was meant to be a comedic one-shot inspired by the relationship between Hiccup and Snotlout, and how I imagine Snotlout fitting into Hiccup's inner circle once he becomes chief. It wound up going past that to encompass a broader theme, but hope you enjoy it nonetheless. This is my first fic that I have written in this fandom, and I'm currently battling against major writer's block, so any reviews would be awesome. Enjoy!
It was the week after the scuffle between the Berkians and the Outkast tribe. Well, the near miss of a scuffle. Ever since news had reached Alvin the Treacherous of the circumstances surrounding Stoic's demise, the relations between the tribes, which had been hurriedly patched up so many years ago, had been on shaky ground. After all, the patch had mostly consisted of Alvin and Stoick's old friendship being reestablished in a backseat, for the better good, kind of way. Working together to defeat Dagur the Deranged had reminded them enough of the comradery that they used to share that they sort of, unofficially had decided to stay out of each other's way in the future. That, wobbly to begin with, peace was further strained when Alvin's son, Ulrich the Unreasonable assumed the role of chief of the Outkast tribe after his father's retirement. All of this to say that when a Berkian ship was blown into Outkast waters by a storm and accidentally wound up crashing into one of their ships, Hiccup had his hands full with trying to persuade Ulrich not to declare all-out war on Berk.
Diplomacy was his area of expertise, but his skills as a peace-maker could only go so far when dealing with someone known as Ulrich the Unreasonable… To make matters worse, Hiccup had begun to get wind of whispers and murmurs from his own tribe, as the weeks dragged on and matters between the two tribes only got worse. He started becoming aware of the disapproving glances, the hastily averted critical gazes that were shot his way when people thought he wasn't looking. When he asked the twins about it, (they were his unofficial official relay for gossip among his tribe, mostly because they didn't know the definition of keeping a secret) they were more than willing to avail him with the whispers that went on behind his back.
"Oh! Yeah, people are totally talking about you," drawled Tuffnut.
"Yeah, they won't shut up about you actually," complained Ruffnut.
"It's getting kind of annoying," her brother completed.
Hiccup felt a string of nervousness starting to coil up in his stomach.
"And, what are they saying about me? Exactly?" He asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer, but sure that he needed to find out.
"Thaaaat you can't keep the peace,"
"That you can't handle that Ulrich guy,"
"That Stoic would have beat the Outkast's into submission weeks ago,"
"That your arm guards look like crabs,"
"That you're not a good chief,"
"Oh! And that it's totally obvious that Astrid does your hair!" They both cracked up at that last vital piece of information, interrupting their back and forth gossip spew. "I mean, who would ever think that you know how to braid your own hair!" Ruffnut pointed out helpfully.
"Well you know how to braid your own hair," her brother argued reasonably.
"No I don't," she insisted.
"Then how did your hair get to be all… braidy?"
"Cause I braided back when I was like 6 and it stayed that way I guess."
"Aha! So you concede that you DO know how to braid your own hair! Well, at least you did when you were 6."
Hiccup left them to their verbal and subsequent physical battle and returned to his daily chiefly duties with a knotted stomach and a heavy heart. He knew it was inevitable that people would compare him to his father. He did the same thing himself every day, nearly every decision he made, for Thor's sake, and he never felt as if he fully measured up to his father's greatness. Nevertheless, it hurt to hear that his tribe felt the same way. It especially hurt to know that they were talking about it openly. Granted, he also knew that just because the twins had picked up on those pieces of gossip and murmuring, that didn't mean that everyone in the tribe felt that way. In fact, he was almost certain that the majority of the tribe was on his side. There were only a relative few that he knew from past experience to be discontented with his manner of leadership and his particular brand of inter-tribal policy. They were the older ones in the tribe. The generation caught in between the old ways and the new. The purest, most violent viking Vikings among their lot. And none of them had ever come so far as to have a dragon for a pet. They saw the advantages of the new ways, and they supported them when they worked, but they were always the first to point back to how things had been better in the good-old-days when things went poorly.
Hiccup had had to deal with those kinds of people ever since he'd woken up from his coma after fighting the dragon Queen and found that dragons had moved into Berk. He felt like he should be used to it by now. Or at least, he should have a better idea of how to go about handling them. And while he had certainly improved in his skills at mediating those kinds of people, he had never truly mastered the art. In fact, Hiccup was convinced that such a thing was impossible because the people made it impossible. So even though he knew he shouldn't let himself be hurt, or let his confidence be tainted by the murmurings of such people, he still found himself deeply affected by the words that had been unknowingly relayed to him.
The day dragged on after that, and for the rest of the afternoon he was sure that every time he turned a corner he could hear someone behind him starting to whisper something or other. Under normal circumstances he would have taken off for an hour or two on Toothless' back, letting the clean, stinging air clear his mind of his doubts and insecurities. Either that or he would confide in Astrid. She could usually talk some sense into him. Unfortunately, neither of those options were open to him at the moment since Astrid had taken Toothless out for a patrol around the nearby islands. He could have found his mother and confided in her, but he didn't like to bother her. She had her hands full with the dragon nursery this time of year. So, he went about his day with a slight slump in his shoulders, a nervous twitch in his eye, and a racing mind.
He knew that he was doing the right thing. It was never wrong to try to keep the peace and avoid war, and that was what he was trying so hard to do. The problem was, Hiccup wasn't sure yet where the line was between compromising for the sake of peace, and taking a stand for his tribe and his people. It was a very large, very grey area, and he was having trouble navigating it to everyone's satisfaction apparently.
The late afternoon found him working in the dragon stables. It was rather unusual for the chief of the tribe to be found shoveling dragon poo in the middle of the afternoon, but he did his best to live by the few rules of leadership that his father had been able to impart to him before his death. One of those was: no task is too small when it comes to serving your people. No one ever wanted to shovel dragon manure, so his occupation this afternoon served a two-fold purpose: it meant that someone else didn't have to do it, and it meant that Hiccup would probably get to be alone for an hour at least, since the poo was kind of a deterrent to most people. Being alone for the span of an hour was even more rare for Hiccup than shoveling manure, so he took whatever chance he got, sometimes at the cost of his dignity.
To Hiccup's disappointment, not twenty minutes later, he heard the sound of voices approaching the stables. He was currently engaged in one of the stalls towards the back of the building so he was able to pick up on the conversation before the two Vikings became aware of his presence.
"… don't know what he thinks he's doing. He's going to get us all killed if he doesn't take action soon!" the raised voice of Mildew drifted into the stables and then reverberated around the entire building.
"That's a bit harsh Mildew, but he is certainly skating on thin ice. Hiccup just doesn't know where to draw the line with brutes like the Outkasts." Hiccup froze, and in a split second decision, plastered himself up against the darkest corner of his stable and listened instead of making his presence known. Even as he did so, a voice in the back of his head told him that if he were a real chief, like his father, he should have sauntered out of the stable and shouted and intimidated some respect into the two mutton heads. But Hiccup had never, never been the shouting and intimidating type. It just wasn't his greatest strength. So he hid. And he listened. He couldn't help himself after what he'd already gleaned earlier in the day from Ruffnut and Tuffnut. And Mildew wasn't exactly making it very hard to eavesdrop. His voice bounced around the inside of the stables like a Nadder's screeches, cracking up and down the scale as his anger and discontent dripped from every word.
"He's scared! That's what he is! That boy has never had to deal with a real war in his entire life. Oh sure! He's had a few successes while on the back of his Night Fury up against some pesky little villains. But he'll be useless as a chief in a real war! Just remember how useless he was as a boy when we were fighting the dragons. Always getting in the way and getting into trouble…" Hiccup's heart chilled a little bit more with every word, but he also found that his blood was beginning to boil in anger. After everything he'd done for the village and the tribe, all the sacrifices he'd made and continued to make in the service of his people, Mildew still saw him as Hiccup the Useless, the skinny outcast of a boy who couldn't do anything right. "Take away that nice little dragon of his and all you're left with is puny little-"
"Hey!" Hiccup jumped. He had been just about ready to spring out of his hiding place himself and do his very best at the whole yelling and intimidation thing, but that shout had come from the direction of the door. And that particular, nasally, self-assured tone could only belong to one person…
"S-s-snotlout!" Mildew stammered in surprise and alarm. "What are you doing here? We were just, erhm…"
"Cleaning the stables!" blurted out Mildew's companion, whose voice Hiccup could now make out to be Roger the Rude's.
"Right…" Snotlout drawled suspiciously, "and I suppose those are manure shoveling shovels you have in your hands there too!" he cried in a voice that made it clear he thought he was being extremely clever and observant. The awkward silence afterwards said otherwise. Hiccup felt the urge to face-palm. He could practically see the look of stupefied confusion on Mildew's face, since he was, most probably, definitely holding a manure shovel, and the resulting dawning realization on Snotlout's expression as he realized his mistake.
"Um… Yes?" Mildew answered, uncertainly.
"Don't try to confuse me!" Snotlout silenced him. "I heard you talking," he went on in a voice that was suddenly scarily quiet.
"And what's wrong with that?" Mildew asked defiantly, finally regaining his wits now that he had gotten over his initial surprise.
"You were talking," Snotlout paused, "about the chief," he stated accusingly.
"The chief? No you must be mistaken! We were talking about… somebody else!"
"I might not be smart Mildew, but I'm not deaf. You were talking about Hiccup and I'm not sure I like what you were saying." Hiccup wasn't quite sure what to do at that point. Part of him wondered if he should be stepping in to mediate between Snotlout and Mildew, in the interest of avoiding an all-out fight. The other part secretly wished there would be one.
"Oh you're one to talk!" Mildew spat. "You're usually the first one to open up your big mouth and tell Hiccup just how bad his plans are! And rightly so! That skinny little-" there was the sound of a short scuffle and then a loud thump that sent the wall of the stable that Hiccup was leaning against shaking. Something had hit the wall. Hard.
"No one, NO ONE! Talks about Hiccup like that except for me!" A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up in Hiccup's throat, and he swallowed it with difficulty. He really would have to step in soon if things didn't start calming down. "Got it!?" shouted Snotlout, and to Hiccup's relief and secret glee, Mildew wheezed out a strangled noise that sounded something like an affirmative answer after which there was the sound of a body slumping to the ground as Snotlout released his hold on Mildew. "Good," snarled Snotlout. "And don't either of you forget it! Now get out of here!"
Two pairs of footsteps stumbled and staggered as they ran out of the stables and Hiccup heard Snotlout let out a short grunt of satisfaction before he too retreated from the stables with a disgusted sniff in the direction of the pile of dragon poo.
After a minute of stunned and disbelieving silence at what he had just overheard, Hiccup smiled softly to himself. There were days when it seemed liked everyone in the world was against him. Days when the universe itself seemed to be telling him that he was destined to be a failure as a chief. On those days, it was very easy to forget how many allies he really had. As he walked back into the central square of the town, his ears pricked up at the tell-tale whistle that always preceded the flight of his night fury. His eyes, instinctively drawn towards the direction from which the sound was coming, caught the still vague outline of his wife riding on the back of his faithful friend. A small, unruly Terror, screeching happily as it launched itself off the ground, drew his gaze downwards, and he chuckled at the excited summersaults and bursts of flame coming from the baby dragons who had also caught sight of their favorite godparent/dragon returning home. His mother was standing among them, waving cheerily and calling out a greeting as Astrid flew over her head. He followed Toothless' flight around borders of the island, eyes alighting upon one familiar scene after another. There was Fishlegs, intent on his loving ministrations to a Nadder whose wing had been broken a few weeks ago and whose splint was now ready to come off, Meatlug dutifully assisting him in his task. Gobber paused for a moment from pounding on some piece of metal or other and leaned out of his shop window to call out "Night Fury!" playfully. Eret son of Eret, flinched involuntarily, still working on weeding out that instinct, before shouting back just as carelessly, "Get down!" Across the square from them, Ruffnut obediently tackled her brother to the ground and the two of them rolled dangerously close to the edge of a cliff in their wrestling before Barf and Belch snatched them up and deposited them back on safer ground.
Hiccup smiled contentedly to himself. These were his people. These wonderful, mad people were his allies, his friends, his family. He could count on them to follow him to the edge of the world and back if he asked. Even Snotlout. Loud, overconfident, irritating Snotlout, who always seemed to be just the opposite of a loyal supporter, and who was currently falling out of the sky after having presumably irritated Astrid in some way to be caught at the last second by a taunting Hookfang. Even Snotlout had his back.
Astrid and Toothless finally landed just a few feet from him and he hurried over to lend a hand to Astrid in dismounting. She pushed his hand away with a scoff and an angry scowl, but he couldn't help himself from trying. No matter how awesome she was it had to be at least slightly harder than usual to get on and off a dragon with a 7-months pregnant belly. She made it seem as if it were nothing more than an extra article of clothing draped across her shoulders, instead of an extra human being growing inside of her. Toothless nosed him in a conciliatory manner, as if to say he still liked him even if Astrid was being difficult.
"How was the patrol, my lady?" he asked, petting his dragon affectionately.
"Good, but there's something we need to talk about," she replied, retrieving her axe from Toothless' saddle and hoisting it onto her back. Hiccup's expression darkened in concern, but as soon as Astrid saw it she hastened to reassure him. "It's nothing life-threatening, or urgent, don't worry. Just some news," she smiled, and he relaxed again.
"Well then we better gather the others," he replied, getting ready to climb onto Toothless' back himself to round up his council.
"Hey wait!" Astrid called before he could take off. He paused and looked down at her, his feet in the stirrups, one hand on the saddle, the other hanging at his side. "How was your day?" Astrid asked with knowing eyes. Hiccup smiled down at her with a lighter feeling in his chest than he had had since this whole mess had started.
"It was great," he said and, with a flick of his ankle, shot into the sky. There was a plan forming in his head, and the problems that had loomed so large only this morning were beginning to shrink in size like the island beneath Toothless' wings. He would get through this, and anything else that the Gods and the universe decided to throw his way. After all, with friends like his, he knew he could handle just about anything that came his way.