My Hiccup 10

The Pirating Program was exactly as the name said a program about how to be a pirate. At first Hiccup was anxious. He had studied the Book of Dragons with Fishlegs and asked Gobber every question he could think of. Gobber smiled a lot and answered as much as he could but a lot of the time he was busy with work so Hiccup would lug the big book down to the beach and ask Old Wrinkly about all the different breeds of dragons and what they could do. It took Hiccup a long time to memorize what was in the book and he felt confident that he could hold his own. Then fall came and the Pirating Program was only days away and all Hiccup's bravo left him.

He sat on the steps to his loft and stared at the brand new notebook Gobber had given him as he worried his lower lip. His guardian had presented him with the book early that morning after making a series of trades with Trader Johann. New book, charcoals, ink and quill. The notebook and charcoals were for class while the ink and quill was for his artistic endeavours. Gobber was always encouraging him to expand his drawing skills.

"Draw what you see and what you want to see. Don't be afraid to let your imagination direct you," the blacksmith had encouraged as he knelt to Hiccup's level and given him the bundle. Then he stood and ruffled Hiccup's hair. "Get a good night's rest. I'll come get you first thing in the morning."

And here Hiccup sat hours later staring at the bundle on his lap too anxious to even consider a "good night's rest". There were all kinds of worries running through his head. Would he be able to handle the program? Was he big enough to compete in the sword fighting competition? Was he scary enough to frighten foreigners? Yeah…definitely not. He couldn't even scare the chickens when he and Fishlegs tried herding them back in the pen after the last dragon attack. They just pecked at his legs and chased him and Fishlegs across the plaza to Phlegma's where Astrid took charge and managed to get the chickens back in their pen. The girl didn't talk a lot and definitely had what Gobber called "anger management issues" but Hiccup liked her and always gave her a bright smile even if she didn't return them. Sadly, she wasn't joining the pirating program due to some home schooling program her mother had planned for her that focused more on being a warrior than a pirate. Hiccup secretly wanted to be in her warrior programs instead of training to be a pirate. At least she didn't have to deal with Snotlout and Dogsbreath or any of the other bullies that had spent the entire summer picking on him after word got out that he was taking the program that fall. If that wasn't enough to make Hiccup anxious then the way his dad was buzzing around like a happy bumblebee bragging about his only child joining the pirating program and what a success he was going to be. Hiccup was afraid he was going to let him down, especially after reading the individual courses. Rudery Class, Bad Spelling Class, Sword Fighting, Scaring Foreigners. They didn't sound like things he would be particularly good at.

The front door banged open causing Hiccup to jump in fright. Stoick the Vast strolled in with a bounce in his step. He didn't see his son at first and hung his helmet over the hook next to the door before almost stumbling over Hiccup as the boy stepped off the staircase to greet him.

"Son!" Stoick gasped, catching himself before he crashed into the boy. He gave a chuckle and gave the boy what he considered a gentle slap on the back that sent Hiccup stumbling into him. "Excited, my boy? Tomorrow is your first day of pirate training. Did Gobber give you everything you need?"

"Ah…yeah, he gave them to me this morning," Hiccup answered as he stretched, hoping to get rid of the sting in his back. His dad didn't understand just how strong he was. Rotating his right shoulder he followed his father to the table and took his seat.

"I see he brought dinner over as well. Ah…I wonder what we'd do without him?" The chief said dishing out food on both their plates. It was warm thanks to Gobber making sure everything was covered.

Technically Hiccup had dinner already but in his nervousness he sure he could eat a little more. "I made the bread," he said proudly. Old Wrinkly had been teaching him and this was the first loaf that hadn't burned or been too hard.

Stoick beamed at him with a mouthful of food. "You did?" he asked after swallowing. He cut a thick slice off the loaf and layered it in butter then took his time chewing it until the other food. "Mmm…it's delicious! Who taught you?"

"Grandpa."

Stoick nodded slowly, his eyes crinkled in thought as he chewed some more. "Well you have a gift, Hiccup, a real gift."

A bright smile lit up Hiccup's face and he dug into the bread as well. It was good! They ate happily in silence for a long time, both enjoying the meal. It wasn't often Stoick got to cook dinner. Thankfully Gobber was there to take care of them and would be there having dinner with them if he didn't have to prepare for the next day's lessons.

"Dad," Hiccup started after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Stoick licked the gravy off his lips. "Yes?"

"Ah…I was thinking…"

"That can be dangerous," his father joked.

Hiccup frowned. Ever since the whole saving the chickens from the Gronkle incident his dad often joked about poor decision making. It wasn't meant to hurt but it did and Hiccup did his best not to bring it up. "Ah…yeah…well I was wondering about this whole pirate training. I know you and Gobber are excited for me to take it but I was wondering if I'd be better off in the young warrior training program with Astrid or farming with Grandpa or Bucket and Mulch?"

His father eyed him for a long time before giving a bark of laughter. "Of course you're taking the pirating program!" he chortled as if Hiccup was being completely silly. He sobered at the distraught look on his son's face. "What is it, Hiccup?"

"Nothing."

"Hiccup…"

The child hung his head and said nothing more on the subject. It was a losing battle.

"Oh…son," Stoick sighed. He sat back and studied his boy. "This is about Snotlout and his friends, isn't it?"

A small nod.

"If I could I'd keep them out of it but we'll need more warriors and pirates soon and quite frankly your cousin already excels at most of the classes already."

"Then why not let him pass the program without actually being in it?" Hiccup reasoned.

"It doesn't work that way. He needs the on hands training as well."

Hiccup gave a soft snort and folded his arms across his chest. "I think he has plenty of on hands training," he murmured with a pout.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

There were a few minutes of silence between the two. Hiccup fiddled with the edge of his fur vest unsure what to say or if he should say anything more. Suddenly he was no longer hungry.

Sighing, Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hiccup, you are the son of a chief. That means one day you will be chief. All this, the village, Berk, it's going to be yours. It will be your responsibility to care for and protect everyone. And to be the best you can be means you need to be trained not only how to fight but how to take what you need from those weaker than you. The Pirating Program will teach you how to take from Peaceable ships then, as you advance, from rival tribes and how to protect yourself. You'll learn sword fighting and eventually how to battle dragons. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yes…" the boy said carefully. "But why do we need to be rude or have bad spelling?"

"To frighten foreigners."

"Being rude and having bad spelling frightens people?" That didn't seem right. In fact it seemed very silly and Hiccup was rather proud of his ability to read and spell correctly. Old Wrinkly had taken a lot of time to teach him and he didn't want to ruin everything he learned by spelling badly for some silly course. He would have to talk to Gobber about that class.

"We're Vikings, Hiccup. You yell at the top of your voice, brandish your sword and be as rude and barbaric as you need to be to scare them and take what you need or want," Stoick said firmly as he tore into a roasted leg of boar. He chewed and swallowed. "That is the Viking way."

But the Viking way wasn't necessarily Hiccup's way.