My Hiccup 7

Vikings are known for their stubbornness issues but the Haddock clan were exceptionally stubborn. At first Stoick didn't understand what he did wrong and no one seemed able to explain it in terms he could understand. Nonetheless he tried everything to gain Hiccup's forgiveness but for all their differences Hiccup was very much his father's son, he ignored all his father's attempts and would either silently play with his toys or wander off to be by himself. Unfortunately this led to a new problem for Hiccup, one the young Viking never really had to deal with before.

"What are you doing, Useless, trying to get bit again?" Snotlout demanded from the top of the hill, Dogsbreath and Clueless flanking him.

Hiccup looked up from his perch, his long legs folded under him and a stretch book Gobber had sewn for him balanced on his lap as he drew a purple Terrible Terror. The little dragon was sitting very still for him and didn't seemed bother by the human until the other boys showed up. When Hiccup looked away it tried to steal his book.

"Hey!" the young heir yelled reaching to take it back but he quickly pulled his hand back when the little creature dropped the book and snapped at his fingers. Then it took the book back in its mouth and darted off. Hiccup jumped to his feet. "No!"

"Just grab a rock and bash its brain!" Snotlout advised with a big grin. He gave the other boys a smirk. "Can't even hold onto a stupid book. I didn't think he was smart enough to read."

Hiccup gave him a confused look. "I was drawing," he informed his cousin only to have the entire group start laughing at him. He shook his head and began running after the Terrible Terror. "Hey! Come back! That's my book. I'll let you keep the picture. Hey!"

The dragon flew off a little ways but it wasn't hard to follow. Hiccup ducked under low branches and around trees until he found the little dragon behind some thick roots, shaking its head, its sharp little teeth tearing into the spine of the book and causing pages to fall out.

"No!" Hiccup cried, hurrying up to the dragon. "No…no, bad dragon. Don't do that, that's mine." He knelt down and held his hands up in a peaceful gesture. He could hear the other boys not far behind them and he felt a sudden fear for the small dragon. "Please…just give it back and I'll…I'll find you some fish in trade."

To his surprise the dragon dropped the book and looked up at him with great big eyes. Its long forked tongue shot out and he licked his eye. Hiccup couldn't help but giggle and he gave the animal a big grin. The dragon wasn't so bad when it wasn't biting him. Biting his lower lip Hiccup shuffled a little closer, his hand still outstretched and unthreatening and to his amazement the Terrible Terror pressed its little head into the palm of his hand.

"Are you crazy!" Snotlout yelled. He threw a rock at the dragon, chasing it away from his young and rather idiotic cousin. When Hiccup yelled and tried to shield the creature Snotlout grabbed him and held him back while the others chased it away.

"No!" Hiccup cried, struggling against Snotlout. Tells rolled down his cheeks but he wasn't released until the Terrible Terror was long gone. "Why…why did you do that?" he demanded, pulling away from Snotlout and stumbling to pick up the remains of his book.

"What? You're mad at me?" Snotlout countered as if that was the craziest thing his cousin had ever said to him. "I'm not the one about to let a dragon eat him! Dragons ate your mother and here you are about to feed yourself to one? Dad was right. Stoick had to have dropped you on your head or something. No Viking can be as stupid as you are."

"I'm not stupid," Hiccup objected.

"Vikings don't play with dragons. Vikings don't talking to them. We kill them. Or they kill us." Snotlout turned toward his friends but gave Hiccup one last cold look. "You're not planning on dying like your mom, are you? Maybe you should and spare your dad some heartache."

The seven year old opened his mouth but quickly shut it and hugged his book to his chest as the older boys all laughed at him as they wandered off. His bottom lip trembled but with a sniffle he kept himself from all out crying and searched for the charcoals he had dropped when the Terrible Terror had taken his book. He shoved them into his pocket and began his long trek back to Gobber's. Snotlout's words sent a sharp pain to his chest that hurt just as much if not more than when his father refused to claim him when Alvin the Treacherous had captured him nearly a month ago and he wasn't sure how to respond. He wanted to cry but Vikings don't cry. Vikings didn't do a lot of the things he really wanted to do.

"There you are," Gobber said merrily from the kitchen where he was already working on dinner. "I hope your hung… Hiccup, what's wrong, lad?"

Hiccup headed for the stairs and his room. "I'm not hungry," was all he said before flopping on his bed. He tried not to make a noise, not to let Snotlout's cruel words get to him but they did and soon he was sobbing softly into his pillow or so he thought.

Gobber's large hand fell on his back and rubbed it gently. "What happened?" the blacksmith asked gently, his hand moving in slow steady circles.

"Snotlout's a jerk," the boy murmured into his pillow before making an eep sound at saying what he considered a bad word.

The blacksmith gave a laugh. "Takes after his father, that one," he agreed. He took a seat on the bed. "What did that numbskull do?"

Hiccup lifted his head. "He…" He looked away, feeling the tears start to slide down his cheeks. "He and his friends were teasing me. They said dragons ate my Mom."

Gobber was silent for a moment, his hand stilling on Hiccup's back. "Oh, lad," he whispered. He gave a sigh and continued rubbing his back. "I…we should talk to your father."

The child was silent for a long time. He didn't want to admit it but he did miss his Dad. It was one thing when he was off at war or fighting dragons but his Dad had been in the village all month and had tried countless times to talk to him and Hiccup had done everything to ignore him. Now Hiccup felt bad and wanted his Daddy to hold him and make things right. He looked up at Gobber and gave a tiny nod before opening his arms and wrapping them around his Guardian's neck.

. . .

Council meetings were perhaps the worst thing about being a chief. Sometimes the meetings lasted for hours and were about some of the stupidest things; property, arranged marriages, engagements, family feuds, baby names. Most of it could easily be worked out without a chief governing the decision but traditions were such tedious things and Stoick was never one to break tradition.

This time around it was a debate over the possible expansion of Mildew's sheep farm. Mildew had the land and the means but Sven was refusing to sell him the sheep due to where Mildew lived and feared the thin air at the top of the mountain would be bad for them. It was utter nonsense but the two men never got along to begin with. In fact no one wanted to sell to Mildew and not because he didn't have enough to trade but his unpleasant demeanor toward everyone. Stoick rested his chin in one hand and leaned against his throne.

"Stoick, make them see reason," Mildew whined in outrage. "Winter will be here soon enough and if we don't have enough strong flocks then there won't be enough food for everyone to survive the winter."

"He has a point," Old Wrinkly agreed, the only one to stand next to Mildew on his endeavour. "With the dragons stealing the livestock we need as many functioning farms as we can get."

Stoick rubbed his temple. "Aye, and give them a buffet to choice from," he grumbled. "We should just move everything underground and work from there." The last was more for himself then the tribe, his annoyance getting the best of him but he hadn't been himself since the whole ordeal with the Outcasts and Hiccup pulling away from him. He missed when his boy was just a babe and he could carry him all over the place and rock him in his arms or on his shoulder even during meetings. Hiccup had always been such a good baby.

Movement caught his eye and drew his attention away from the bickering farmers. Gobber stuck his head inside and made a gesture for Stoick to come outside. Stoick gave him a questioning look and his friend grinned widely at him. It took a moment but then he caught sight of a small arm wrapped around Gobber's neck and a tiny face peeking into the Great Hall before shyly hiding against Gobber's shoulder. The blacksmith only hefting his bundle a little higher up and gave Stoick another look, one that clearly said to get off his butt and come on.

"Gentlemen I…Spitelout, you're in charge," Stoick said, getting off his throne. His brother gave him a strange look before shrugging and taking over the proceedings. Spitelout thrived in situations like this so Stoick left him to it. After all he had someone much more important that needed him. He slipped out the door and smiled softly when he saw his little Hiccup glance up at him with big green eyes. "Hiccup," he said softly, reaching out to brush his son's shaggy hair out of his eyes.

The boy's arms tightened around Gobber's neck for a moment before finally letting him go and opening his arms to Stoick. "Daddy," he whimpered.

It was like a sudden weight lifted off Stoick's shoulders, the tension he had felt since Hiccup left him to stay with Gobber melted away and he immediately took his boy in his arms and held him close. "Oh, Hiccup," he breathed, rocking him slowly in his arms. "My little Hiccup. I'm so sorry, son. I'm sorry."

Hiccup's hugged him tightly and to Stoick's surprise he began crying. Big wet tears fell on his right shoulder as Hiccup buried his face in his neck. "I want my Mommy," he whimpered. "Why did dragons eat my Mommy?"

"What?" Stoick asked, his eyes widening as he glanced down at his boy. "Who told you that?"

"Snotlout," Hiccup answered, his voice very tiny.

Stoick and Gobber exchanged a look. Then Stoick gave Hiccup a squeeze. "Go to Gobber, I'll be right back." With great effort he gave his son back to his best friend then turned on his heel and stormed back into the Great Hall. "SPITELOUT!"

Hiccup looked after his father in surprise but Gobber only chuckled and hugged him. "If there's something scarier than a bully it's your daddy going after their daddy," he said gently as he adjusted Hiccup's slight weight off his bad arm and to his good one. "Nobody messes with your daddy."

There was a lot of yelling and a few crashes as things were thrown at each other. The meeting was obviously brought to a quick close as the villagers filed out. A few minutes later Spitelout limped out, cursing under his breath. He glanced at Hiccup with an angry scowl but a warning look from Gobber kept his mouth shut. Spitelout left them in search of his son. They needed to have a few words.

A moment later Stoick strolled out a cocky smile on his face as he scooped up his little boy and held him up over his head. "And that, my boy, is how a chief cares for his own and a daddy puts arrogant fools in their place."

"I think you might have that a little turned around," chuckled Old Wrinkly as the elder reached up and ruffled Hiccup's hair.

Stoick rolled his eyes but smiled brightly at his sun. "Whatever, hmm? Snotlout isn't going to say mean things about your mommy ever again, I promise. Now let's go home."

"I'll go get dinner," Gobber chirped before taking off to get the food he had been cooking. Hopefully it hadn't burnt.

Stoick hummed softly as he carried his boy home. After dinner he took Hiccup up to his room and tucked him into bed. He sat next to his child at the head of the bed and told him the story of how they lost Valka. It wasn't an appropriate bedtime story and not one he had planned to tell Hiccup until he was much older but it was one the boy needed to hear.

"What if they didn't kill her?" Hiccup suddenly asked, giving his father a quizzical look. "What if they took her because she was pretty? Maybe they needed a mommy to take care of them."

Stoick smiled softly at him. "Ah…son, she was a beauty. Strong willed and bull headed…she loved you dearly, but I'm afraid…" He faltered when he saw the teary look his son gave him. Reluctantly he gave a nod. "Maybe you are right. Maybe they did take her because they needed a mommy, but that doesn't mean I want you trying to play with them. Dragons are dangerous and I don't want them taking you as well."

"Maybe they'll take me to see Mommy."

Stoick's breathe shuddered and he shook his head. "No, Hiccup. Your mother's in Valhalla. Only the greatest warriors are permitted in Valhalla. Perhaps one day when you're all grown up you will see her again but I hope not for a long, long time."

Hiccup leaned his head against his father's belly and began playing with Stoick large fingers. "I wish I could remember her."

His father pulled him a little closer and leaned back against the headboard. "I wish you did, too." He began singing softly to Hiccup. It wasn't really a lullaby but rather the song he used to sing with his wife. It was their song but it often served to calm Hiccup when he was upset or overtired and it did its job wonderfully. Hiccup snuggled up to him and fell asleep and soon Stoick did as well, his head against his son's. That was how they spent the entire night.