Stoick loved his son. Of course he did. Hiccup was a great kid. He may have the attention span of a sparrow and he wasn't all that big and he was a little too smart-mouthed for his own good, but all in all he was a great kid. And he had been good for two months. Two whole months! What other nine-year-old could behave for two months straight? But for two months Hiccup had been perfect. He had followed instructions, he had not experimented on the cat, he had worked hard at the forge and had not only listened to everything Gobber had said but had consciously applied it. He hadn't embarrassed Stoick in public. He had done every chore without complaining—he had even done the chores as Stoick had expected them to be done. Those two months had been the most relaxing two months of Stoick's life. His boy was finally growing up. His boy was getting it. He no longer had to live in fear of Hiccup burning the house down.

So when Stoick felt it crucial to investigate a little island a few stone skips' off for signs of dragon activity, he felt fine leaving Hiccup by himself. The journey was not even a journey. It was a quick trip that would take no more than a day—two at most. It had been several years since Stoick had been afraid to leave Hiccup by himself. In fact, it was becoming more and more common. And Hiccup could take care of himself. He was a very self-sufficient little boy, just as a Viking should be. Leaving a boy of that age and responsibility level for a night on his own would be offering an adventure, an exploration of independence.

Maybe Hiccup's past endeavors would have had most people saying to chain Hiccup up while Stoick was gone, but a track record of two perfect months? Hiccup had more than earned it.

And when he had gruffly told Hiccup that he would have the whole house to himself all night and possible the next day, Hiccup had been thrilled. And of course Stoick had laid down the rules. Hiccup had drawn himself to his full height and said he could follow those rules, that there would be no problem.

He said that with his eyes on Stoick's, no fidgeting, and no forming idea showing on his face.

It was one of the prouder moments of Stoick's life. Though he had shed a tear of that pride when he had left the house, Hiccup inside. Oh, Hiccup was going to be a great Viking someday.

The trip wound up lasting almost two days. Though it had been for nothing, the expedition of a few boats had managed the whole route within their anticipated time frame. There was some disappointment in returning to the dock, the same disappointment they all felt when these dragon hunts did not pan out, but what could they do?

Stoick marched up the hill, taking in the site of this peaceful village that he so much wanted to protect. Sheep dotted the hill, smoke curled from cooking fires, and a few young children's names were called to return inside before dark. At least nothing bad had occurred while he was gone.

He made it to the door and pushed it open. Hiccup would be done with the forge by now, though he could possibly still be playing somewhere.

A small fire crackled in the pit, the area tidy and the coals glowing happily. The main room was clean—perhaps even cleaner than when Stoick had left. Fiddlesticks the cat was curled up in Stoick's chair, purring in his sleep. And Hiccup sat quietly at the table, drawing in his book.

No sign of any disaster in sight. Stoick smiled to himself. Yes, it had been fine and even wise to leave Hiccup alone for a night. "Hello, Hiccup. I'm back."

Hiccup looked up from his book and smiled. That nice big Hiccup smile. "Hi Dad. Did you kill any dragons?"

Stoick hung up his axe. Oh, he would have loved some great dragon-killing story to bring back to tell Hiccup. "We found nothing."

Hiccup sounded genuinely disappointed. "Oh. Really?"

He slung up his helmet. It was good to be home, though it would have been more interesting after a more eventful trip. "Not a thing. Sorry to disappoint you. How was Berk?"

Hiccup shut his book. "Boring, too. No dragon attacks."

"Hiccup, that's a good thing. So nothing happened?"

Hiccup shook his head.

Stoick picked up the cat and sat down in his chair. Now of course something had to have happened. Obviously it would be nothing nearly as exciting as dragons, but was there nothing that happened over the past two days that interested a nine-year-old boy? "Oh, come on. Was there nothing you did?"

Another shake of the head. "It was all really ordinary, Dad. Except…" Hiccup took a deep breath.

Ah. Something had happened. An explanation for Hiccup's quietness. Here would be the interesting story. "What is it, son?"

Hiccup's gaze was down on the table. "Except something broke."

"Something broke." Okay. "What broke?"

"A jar," was the timid answer.

A jar. Stoick laughed. "What jar broke?"

Hiccup stood up. "I kept the pieces. It was a small jar. Nothing was in it." He made his way over to a corner and pulled out a cloth with a few shards of an unremarkable jar wrapped in it. "I'm really sorry."

Stoick laughed again. Maybe Hiccup had become too responsible over the past few months. Worrying so much over a tiny little jar. Such things breaking now and then was part of life. "Hiccup, it's just a jar. Not a big deal."

"Oh." Hiccup looked decidedly less upset. "So I'm not in trouble?"

"Why would you be in trouble?" Stoick tousled Hiccup's hair. "It's a jar. I'm not going to be mad at you for breaking a little jar."

Hiccup's smile was much more confident. "Well, I didn't even break the jar. It was Fiddlesticks."

The cat. Wow, from where was this boy absorbing all this guilt? "Then it's not even your fault. It's the cat's fault."

"Well… he was kind of scared at the time when he knocked it over. He jumped up to the cupboard and that's when the jar fell."

"Why was the cat scared?" So here was the interesting story. And already Stoick was amused.

Hiccup didn't hesitate in his response. "It was really loud outside. Lots of yelling. And Fiddlesticks doesn't like yelling so he jumped up on the cupboard and knocked over the jar."

Understandable for a cat. "Who was yelling?"

"Astrid and Ruffnut." Hiccup climbed back into his chair and flipped back open his drawing book.

Well, little girls could get loud when yelling. "Why were they yelling, son?"

Hiccup paused from picking up his charcoal. "Apparently girls yell when they get water dumped all over them. They yell and chase you up to your house and then they yell at you some more and scare your cat."

Stoick frowned. Hiccup was not the type to tease girls. In fact, he had more or less left them alone since the pushing Astrid incident when he was younger. "Hiccup, you know better than to dump water on girls!"

"Dad, I didn't dump water on them!" Hiccup replied adamantly. "I forgot about the bucket in the tree from earlier!"

At least his son wasn't teasing girls. "Why did you have a bucket in a tree?"

"In case a fire happened."

Stoick shook his head. Way too responsible a son. Now he was getting paranoid. "Hiccup, why would you be worried about a fire?"

Hiccup picked up his charcoal and set to drawing something. "Because of the flaming arrows. If the flaming arrows got shot down by the village then it would start a fire, so I had a bucket up there because one of the arrows was aimed for that tree. And then when I went to get the bucket it sort of spilled on the girls and that's when they started yelling at me and chasing me."

"What flaming arrows aimed for the tree?" Stoick asked.

"The flaming arrows were not my idea," Hiccup said. "I said that setting arrows on fire was dangerous and stupid and we shouldn't be touching the fire, but of course Tuffnut said I was being stupid and they were the only way to kill the bear. But I thought it would be safer if we rigged the arrows so they would shoot when the bear came by and tripped this alarm but then that idea almost got Spitelout shot so that's when I became really worried about the tree. Spitelout didn't trip all the traps. There's still a lot left."

Stoick took a deep breath. Okay, it was getting a little too interesting. "What are you talking about, Hiccup? Why were you setting up flaming arrows and trying to kill people?" Maybe this was good. Maybe Hiccup did have a future in making weapons.

"Because the bear got way too close to the village so we were afraid it would attack people and that wouldn't be good. It wasn't supposed to get as close as it did. I just thought a bear would be good bait for a dragon trap."

He closed his eyes and bit his lip. "What dragon trap?"

"There isn't a dragon trap, Dad. It fell down." Hiccup flipped back a few pages to an idea he had drawn. "This is what it was supposed to look like. But the bear broke right through it. It was because Snotlout threw rocks at it. He was nearly trampled by the bear. But he's okay. We just had the bear running around at that time."

Stoick barely glanced at the drawing. "Did any of the adults know about this dragon trap you made?"

Hiccup shook his head. "No, they were all busy herding the sheep back up after the whole dragon panic."

There had been a dragon attack while he was gone? "Hiccup, what dragon?"

"Oh, there wasn't a dragon, Dad. We just thought there was. I thought I saw one. Sorry. I started yelling it and then everyone panicked and that's when the sheep got loose. But there wasn't a dragon. That's not a problem."

"Why did you think there was a dragon?"

Hiccup stopped to consider this. "I heard a sound in the woods when I went to get some plants for the doctor after I accidentally knocked this pole over on some people. They're okay now. I think. I didn't know it was just a nighthawk until a lot later."

Stoick decided not to ask about the pole. He didn't understand it. It had seemed so… quiet… returning to the house. He momentarily buried his face in his hands. "Did no one say anything to you?"

Hiccup shook his head. "They said they would wait until you came back, and then talk to you."

Great.