Well, the future firsties idea seems to have gone over alright. So here's another firstie for the future.
It's gonna end up a Heathcupstrid... but with a twist. This ones mostly gonna be story-intro, but won't fit everything in. There's stuff like divorce and remarrying, amongst... other things.
Stoick POV is a one off. For good reason. It was awful to write. And no, not that Bertha.
-HTTYD-
"It's been a year Stoick. It's time to accept she's gone."
The Berk chief grumbled, looking at his toddler son, so like his mother in looks. Right down to that slender build. Spitelout offered unwelcome commentary as he tagged along so his wife could nurse Hiccup, who desperately needed the strengthening feed and had no mother to offer it.
Valka...
"Not until I find her."
"What're ya gonna do? Hope you recognise her bones?"
If it weren't for Hiccup, peering at him with bright green eyes from where he was feeding, Stoick might have slammed his fist into Jorgensons face. Repeatedly.
"Spite, be kind in front of the boy."
"Ah, he doesn't understand do you boyo?"
Little Hiccup averted his eyes, unsettled and unwilling to nurse now. He reached for Stoick, entire body barely the width of his forearm.
"Dada."
Between his fingers was clutched a piece of one of Valka's tunic-dresses, made into a sort of small blanket and it comforted him. He mightn't even remember her when he was grown, but right now Hiccup knew the scent on his blanket was his mother and she was missing.
"Your boy needs a mother. Who's going to watch him when you're off on dragon raids?"
"Mama?"
That word broke Stoick's heart. Maybe he did owe his son someone to take care of him. A mother figure that could fill the hole in his life.
"One more search. Then I'll think about it."
Spitelout sighed, but Stoick was adamant. Leaving Hiccup with his wet nurse, they took off again to search for the Nest. Surely that was where her... body would be? Stoick just wanted closure really. Or at least an end to the hope his wife was alive somewhere.
No. Impossible. Dragons didn't leave anyone alive.
The search was fruitless, costing them boats and men whilst gaining nothing but a few barrels of fish they didn't see much in the seas surrounding their island.
"Dada!"
Hiccup reached for him on sight, uncaring that there was dried blood on his arm and smoky residue on his clothes. Stoick cradled his son, and his resolve steeled - Hiccup needed another parent, rather than being passed around babysitters while Stoick was off chiefing.
As luck would have it, the opportunity presented itself only a matter of months later. Failing to bear him a son, Mogadon, the head of the Meatheads had divorced his wife Bertha. She had already been married to and divorced from Oswald the Agreeable. She'd born him a son, but Mogadon and she had produced a daughter. If rumour was right, the previous 'miscarriage' had been another daughter that was left to the gods in hopes they would send a son next time.
Coerced into seeing that Bertha was both a mother and had connections to multiple tribes, she knew her way around the archipelago and had experience in remarriage... Stoick offered the woman a contract. She was as clear as he that it was a practicality - Bertha got a safe place for her daughter, Astrid, and no concern about being an outcast. Stoick got someone to care for Hiccup, someone to help around the house and keep things going when he was busy.
Aside from consummation, their marriage wasn't physical for a couple of months. Stoick wasn't looking for a love connection - he needed a wife and mother. But gradually, they developed a friendship and had some close nights together. Almost before Stoick knew it, Bertha had fallen pregnant.
Hiccup and Astrid - both almost two, and still not really sure about each other - both responded as positively as infants could at the news of a new sibling. When Heather was born, Stoick felt the first proper sparks of happiness since Valka... went away. He felt alive for the first time in a while, without a dragon at the other end of his axe anyway.
Both Hiccup and Astrid took on protective roles for the smaller child, and that seemed to even help them bond. At least Stoick wasn't worried they would grow up lonely.
"Who's got my axe?"
"Not me!"
"I need it for dragon training!"
Hiccup covered his ears, not wanting to think about dragon training. For one, he wasn't allowed to join in and that made him even more the embarrassment of the town. His sisters - Astrid his step- and Heather his half-sibling - were geared up to go practice slaughtering the creatures the next day.
And Hiccup? Hiccup had two options. Stay home, or go away. His step-mother Bertha, who of course had raised him since he was just shy of two years old, was getting on in age and often shooed him from under her feet when Hiccup loitered around the house. So he spent a lot of time in his room, or in the back room of the forge designing things everyone - especially his sisters - called total nonsense.
Against those two, Astrid fearless and strong and Heather fierce and agile, already top of the class for weapons training, Hiccup was even more notably skinny and unimpressive. He struggled to lift the swords he sharpened while apprenticing with Gobber, the blacksmith and his unofficial uncle, let alone hurl an axe one handed.
Hel, Heather was two and a half years his junior and allowed to go to dragon training before him. Hiccup was determined to figure out a way to kill a dragon, to become one of the village at last rather than a remnant memory of his dead mother for his disappointed father.
"Found it!"
"Told you I didn't take it."
Before any further discussions about Astrid's axe could be had, the horn sounded outside - the dragons were attacking. Now was his chance! Hiccup waited for his sisters to leave - they were on fire extinguishing, charged with grabbing buckets of water and hurling it rather ineffectively at wooden houses almost burned to cinders by errant dragon blasts.
"Ah! Where are you going? Get upstairs!"
Their mother hadn't yet left, pulling on her armour and weapon to join in the defending of Berk.
"But mom-"
"No!"
"I'm meant to-"
"No! Upstairs!"
Grumbling, Hiccup clambered up the stairs, immediately lying on the floor where he could watch to see his step-mother leave. He knew better than to go out front - Bertha would absolutely wait, knowing Hiccup's penchant for sneaking out. Clutching his dagger, Hiccup slipped out the back door, circled slowly and saw his mother waiting by the front, expecting Hiccup to run straight into her as he had done before.
But a screeching Monstrous Nightmare attack drew her away, and Hiccup was able to slip by unnoticed. He was small and quick, but equally so that made him recognisable.
"What are you doing out?"
"Get inside!"
Before he could even cross half the square, staring enviously at where his sisters looked cool and dramatic as they ran with buckets into burning buildings as he ran, Hiccup felt a meaty hand close around his collar and bodily haul him backwards.
"What are you doing out again? Get inside!"
His dad shoved him, Hiccup stumbling as he kept running. Knowing he wouldn't be able to sneak off under his fathers glare, he reluctantly headed to the forge.
"Nice of you to show up for work! Thought you'd been carried off."
"Who me? I'm way too muscular for their tastes!"
They moved around each other in a fairly practiced manner, repairing weapons that were dented and battered by dragon hide or flame. When a dragon came tumbling down nearby, Gobber saw Hiccup lean out wistfully, itching to go and prove himself. Prepared, he hooked Hiccups tunic and hauled him back.
"Please? I need to make my mark!"
"You've made plenty of marks, all in the wrong places!"
"I'll kill a dragon! I might even get a date!"
"You can't lift a hammer! You can't swing an axe! You can't even throw one of these!"
Gobber waved a bola, which was ripped from his hand and hurled toward a dragon. Hiccup indicated his bola-slinging contraption, grinning.
"This will throw it for me!"
As Hiccup patted it, it accidentally flung the bola, and with no room to untangle it was effectively small but heavy balls cracking someone square in the helmet. The Viking dropped like a stone, so Hiccup winced slightly.
"Seriously?"
"Mild calibration error!"
Gobber kept trying to talk him down, but eventually he had to go help fight, leaving Hiccup by himself. As soon as he was unobserved, Hiccup reloaded his shooter, pulled on his fur vest and began running for his life with the bola-firer bouncing precariously on its wheels as he dashed between several dozen tussles between Viking and dragon.
"What're you doing?"
"Get back inside!"
"Yep, be right back!"
He made it up the hill, giving him a clear shot across the horizon. Of course, there were exactly zero dragons there to aim at.
"Come on, give me something to shoot at..."
Hiccup had all but given up when he heard that distinctive roar, knew it was the one. The Night Fury. Hiccup would never get a chance like this again. He scanned the dark sky, spotted the merest shadow flit across otherwise bright stars. He took aim, closed his eyes and fired, praying to the gods the entire time.
Against all odds, Hiccup heard it make purchase, saw the Night Fury go hurtling down toward Raven Point. Ecstatic, Hiccup began cheering. He was promptly chased by a rather pissed off Monstrous Nightmare, and there might have been a mishap or two as he was chased through the village by five thousand pounds of angry firebreathing lizard.
Unsurprisingly, nobody believed Hiccup when he said he hit a Night Fury. His sisters and the other kids laughed and joked at his expense as Gobber dragged him home, but that was nothing new. As soon as Gobber dropped him off, Hiccup ran through the hut and jumped out the back again.
He'd find that downed dragon. Then he would show all of them.
-HTTYD-
This might be one of the worst things I've ever written and don't be surprised if I take it down again but hey here is a brief thing about how I'm gonna write a messy ol' Heathcupstrid with incest and pseudo-incest at some point.
HTTYD incest. Canon verse. And not Valcup! Who'da thunk it.
I still hate this.