Chapter Summary: Astrid struggles to train her daughter. Stoick struggles with on-going dragon raids, as well as grief.
Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragon
Zephyr crouched low, making good use of the long grass to keep herself hidden. She kept a close eye on the figure in front of her and strengthened her grip on the sword in her hand. Her breathing slowed as she crept forward, ready to pounce.
Once her victim turned their back to her, she attacked. Coming out of her stance with a battle cry, she swung her sword, headed straight for the person's neck.
However, quicker than she could even react, the sword flew out of her hand from the force of the axe bearing down on it. Zephyr was pushed onto her back, the axe now positioned over her throat.
"That was better, you at least hid from me long enough to actually strike." Her mother offered Zephyr a hand up, which the young girl took without question. "But what was that battle cry? It gave you away."
Zephyr went over to grab her sword. "I don't know, it felt appropriate," She shrugged, attaching the sword to her belt.
Astrid raised her eyebrow. "Well, that dramatic flair would have cost you your life. Zephyr, we haven't even gotten to proper techniques yet."
Her daughter looked down, unwilling to meet her mother's eye. Astrid sighed and took a look at the sky, where the sun had started to set over the ocean. "I think we can finish for the day."
"Thank the gods!" Zephyr exclaimed, running back to the home. Astrid looked on in amusement, following her daughter at a slower pace.
Astrid entered the forge, where her husband was busy with a new invention. "What are you up to now?" She smirked as looked up, startled, and dropped the metal pole that he had been hammering away at.
"M'lady, fancy seeing you here," He answered, putting away his gloves. "How was training with Zephyr?"
She sighed. "Hard. She's not really picking up fighting very well. Not like Nuffink is." She looked out the window of the forge where their youngest child was training with an axe. "I don't know how to help her. She just doesn't have the same enthusiasm."
Hiccup thought for a second, putting away the tools that he had scattered around the forge. "She could just take after me, I was never really one for fighting." He turned back to Astrid, frowning. "You know, maybe it's time we get her a dragon."
"Really?" Astrid looked back out the window where she saw Zephyr and Nuffink engaged in a mock wrestling match. "I mean, I guess she is the age we were when we got Toothless and Stormfly." She walked backwards so that Hiccup could pull her closer to his chest.
"And she is more used to dragons then we were. I mean, I was terrified the first time I saw Toothless," He said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
Astrid hummed. "Yeah. At least on dragon-back she'll have a way of defending herself."
"What are you thinking for her?" Hiccup asked. "A Nadder, a Gronkle?"
"I think she'd suit a Nadder."
Hiccup laughed. "Well, she'll take after you in some regard at least."
"Ha-ha, very funny dragon-boy."
The couple watched as their children continued to play outside as the sun was setting.
...
Stoick growled as a Gronkle charged into the house, spewing lava over the wood and causing it to burn.
I'm getting too old for this.
"Come here, you devil!" He raced forward and grabbed the dragon's snout, clamping it shut with his own hands. Without wasting another second, he pulled out his axe and chopped it's head off.
The raids, somehow, had gotten worse the past few years. The dragons seemed to come out of no-where and weren't stopping anytime soon. Racing out of the house, he shouted orders to the men who came out beside him.
"Sound the alarm and have someone stationed on the tower. We need to kill these beasts before they can even make it onto our shores."
"Yes, chief." A man ran off, presumably to do exactly what Stoick had asked.
The chief turned to the warrior beside. "What've we got?"
The man cleared his throat. "Nadders, Gronkles, Zipplebacks. A few Monstrous Nightmares, and I could've sworn I saw a Thunderdrum but they're not usually part of the raids."
"Any Night Furies?" He asked, even though he really didn't have to.
The man shook his head. "Not for the last eighteen years, Stoick."
Stoick nodded, before running up to Nadder with the men behind him, securing it into a net. "Make sure the sheep are hidden well, we don't want them found again."
"Yes, chief!"
Stoick sighed as he went to join the battle.
Ruling over a village was hard enough, but add dragons into the mix, it was near impossible most days. It also didn't help who his heir was.
Snotlout had grown out of his teenager immature nature. He showed more respect, and listened to other more, and didn't boast about himself too much. But Snotlout just didn't have what it took to become a chief. Even with eighteen years of training, Stoick still didn't want to pass the leadership down to him. People didn't listen to him, as his method of giving orders and instructions was yelling more often than not, and his ideas and plans usually never worked out.
It didn't help that his brother, Spitelout, continued to push for Stoick to finally resign and give the leadership to Snotlout. Every meeting with the man turned into a shouting match about how Stoick was getting far too old to lead, and that he should be handing over to Snotlout sooner rather than later.
As Stoick took down another dragon, he thought about his true heir; Hiccup. The boy had only been fifteen when he went missing, and so he had no idea if Hiccup would've been a good chief or not. But from the scared, weak and nervous person he had been as a kid, Stoick really doubted it.
The raid finally ended as the rest of the dragons flew off, taking with them about a week's worth of food for the village.
"Alright men," Stoick addressed the crowd. "Time to get started on rebuilding. Hoark, give me a number on the house."
"At least two houses are damaged beyond repair, and another five or so with minor repairs needed."
The chief hummed. "That's better than last time at least." He turned to the man. "I'm leaving you in charge of the rebuilding."
Later in the night, Stoick stumbled up the stairs of the Great Hall, in desperate need of some food and a strong drink.
Gobber greeted him there, already downing a mug of mead. "We'll get them one day." He said, before taking another gulp of the drink. "They can't go on forever."
"Gobber," Stoick started. "They've been going on for 300 years.
"But you know what? So, have we!"
Stoick sighed, grabbing a mug of mead for himself. Looking around to make sure no one could hear, he sat down opposite his friend. "Gobber, what do I do? I can't be chief forever, but it's clear the Jorgenson boy isn't really up to the task."
"Well, keep training him! No chief is great on their own, they need proper guidance." His friend answered, taking another mug.
Groaning, Stoick continued, "Gobber, I've been training him for eighteen years. Surely by now he should be able to, I don't know, lead properly?"
Gobber looked down into his drink, frowning in thought. "You know, I reckon Hiccup could've been a good chief."
The mood, already stale from the raid and the conversation, took a turn for the worst. Stoick growled and downed his whole mug, slamming it back onto the table. "You know how I feel about that topic."
"Stoick, it's been almost two decades. You gotta acknowledge it at some point." Gobber deepened his frown. "Listen, I can't even begin to understand what's going on in that head of yours, but I know what you're doing ain't healthy."
"So, what if Hiccup would've made a good chief?" Stoick grumbled. "He's gone now. We'll never know."
The blacksmith grinned. "I knew. You didn't see him when he was in the forge. His determination and will, the way he never backed down from a project no matter how big. Those were the signs of a great chief."
Stoick dropped him head down into his hands. "Oh Gobber, what did I do wrong? To have the gods take away not only my wife but also my son?"
Gobber shook his head. "None of this is your fault Stoick, there's nothing you could have done."
"I was a horrible father, Gobber," Stoick grumbled. "I couldn't even give him the time of day. Our relationship, I don't what happened, it just seemed so fragile and weird all the time. I should've made more of an effort with him."
"Stoick, don't get caught up in the what if's. What has been done, has been done."
"I just miss them so much." And with that, Stoick stood up to walk home, to an empty house.
Hi again.
I can't promise I will be updating this quickly. I go back to school in a few weeks and then I will probably be swamped with work.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I am still establishing the plot but there should be some action soon.
Once again, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.
Thank you.