AN: I have created a poll on my profile page. Please take a look ^_^

Amid the cheering, chatter, and back-patting that followed the aerial show, Valka managed to keep her worries firmly cornered in the back of her head. Unfortunately, the joyful atmosphere had to wear down at some point. Performers and spectators retreated to their homes, ships, and caves. Bloodybee had calmed her stomach down enough to suggest a feast. Spitelout, who had recovered equally fast, claimed he'd obtain some fresh meat before sunset. Soon enough both lovers headed to the forest, accompanied by entourages of crewmates and clansmen, eager to test their skills in old-fashioned hunting. Quite a few people from both tribes headed for the Mead Hall, to play some games and exchange stories over a cup of mead. The Haddock family opted to retrieve to their own home, and home-made dinner, courtesy of Gobber.

It was also courtesy of Gobber that the facts Valka had managed to swipe under the rug of sub-consciousness were blown back to her consciousness. You see, the blacksmith expressed his relief at seeing how much the Dragon Whisperer's condition had improved since he last saw her.

"Really, Valka," he said. "I haven't seen you this sick since you were pregnant with Hiccup."

The woman forced herself to grin, though anxiety was beginning to rub itself against her stomach.

"Well, it was a nasty hangover," she admitted, mentally begging all deities she could think of to let the discussion end here, while simultaneously searching for a replacement topic. If the men ask her about the trip to the laeknar's, she'll be done for.

Then, God's be blessed, Hiccup spoke up.

"Umh, guys?"

The three adults looked at him (Valka with particular attention). The boy looked troubled.

"You aren't," he mumbled cautiously, "by any chance, thinking of having a second child?"

Valka caught her breath. Stoick's eyebrows went up. They glanced at each other. Awkward silence grew between them.

Valka licked her suddenly dry lips, making the fast decision to speak up. "Well… we haven't really talked about it," she admitted.

Hiccup became agitated.

"Then please, seriously, don't do this to me," he begged. "I very much enjoy my quiet, cozy loft, without a screaming infant and the stench of poop."

To this, Gobber chuckled. "Oh, you say that, but I'm sure you'd love him. Or her. Or them."

Hiccup was utterly frightened by the possibility.

"Don't even joke like that," he scolded. "One set of twins is enough for this island."

"Couldn't agree more," remarked Stoick tiredly. He was certain that Ruff and Tuff will continue to give him headaches until he retires.

"Don't worry, Hiccup," Valka told her son calmingly. "Women my age don't get pregnant just like this."

The declaration amused Gobber greatly. "It's exactly this kind of thinking that gets women your age pregnant," he snickered.

"Alright, point taken," sighed the woman. "We're going to be careful."

Hiccup didn't bother to hide his relief.

"Thank you," he said.

"But you know," his mother added in a loving tone, "I think you would make a wonderful big brother."

The boy smiled, flattered.

"That's what Avalanche said today," he revealed. "She said she would disown Snotlout and make me her brother. But I'm sure she said that to get on his nerves."

To this, Stoick snorted. "As if she ever opened her mouth in his presence for any other reason," he said, partially amused and partially exasperated.

"Neh," Gobber challenged, "this is just her way of getting Snotlout to show her he cares."

"You're giving her too much credit, Gobber," stated Stoick.

As the men bickered, Valka breathed a sigh of relief. She knew now that the wishes of her son were in tune with her own. To actually raise a child might have been tempting, but she had to be reasonable about it. Even if she were younger, now was simply not the right time to try for children. She could not afford to let a pregnancy prevent her from flying, from training the new riders and orchestrating the integration of dragons into the tribe. Also, if she were to perish in the upcoming war, yet another of her children would have to grow up without a mother. No, she could not risk that.

However, looking after a child who had already been born was a different matter.

Hiccup said he didn't want babies in the house. This was understandable. Thankfully, his half-brother was no longer a baby, so he shouldn't come in the way of Hiccup's sleeping comfort. Even more so they probably won't have to share a room that often. So maybe Valka's son would be more accepting of such an addiction to the family? Or maybe not? After all, the other boy only shared one parent with Hiccup. And a proof of what his father and caretaker had been doing behind his back. That may be hard to process. Then again, Valka had betrayed Hiccup way worse than Stoick did, and he still forgave her.

Poor boy just had bad luck with parental figures.

Valka wished she could prepare him for the arrival of his half-brother. Alas, she could not reveal what she knew. Were there other means of reducing his shock? Being an only child herself, she couldn't even discuss sibling dynamics.

Then, it hit her: there was a person sitting at this very table who had a younger brother shoved into his life.

Stoick did have an experience similar to that she was going to inflict upon their son.

Gods be blessed.

"Hiccup," she spoke up in a sudden moment of inspiration, "have you ever heard how your father and Spitelout became brothers?"

The boy nodded. "Umh. His father married Spitelout's mother. But that didn't change anything between dad and Spitelout."

"Right it didn't," confirmed the chief. "Spitelout may have become my father's stepson, but that didn't make him my brother."

"You still named him your second-in-command," Gobber pointed out. "And next-in-line right after Hiccup."

Stoick sighed. "That I did," he admitted reluctantly. "With the dragon war going on, I didn't really have a choice. Spitelout may be hard to put up with, but I know I can trust him when it really matters. He is a capable warrior, if nothing else," having said so, the chief took a sip from his mug. Then, after a brief moment of hesitation, added: "And my father's protégée."

"And your step-brother," added Valka.

"And my step-brother," agreed Stoick in resignation. "Despite everything."

The chief sounded as if he wasn't sure what his feelings were. Most likely he wasn't entirely happy about the attention his father had dedicated to Spitelout, but at the same time couldn't hold it against him. There was jealousy, territoriality, fear, remorse. A mixture of too many emotions for the chief to identify properly.

Valka remembered her husband only ever spoke briefly of his family. His father and step-mother weren't very open, either. Their late spouses were heroes, and that was all there was to it. Spitelout's father had died on a quest for the Nest when Spitelout was 6. Stoick's father felt responsible and has since looked after Spitelout. Four years later, when Stoick was 15, his mother perished in a dragon raid. A year after that his father married Spitelout's mother. Some said the old chief cared for the boy more than he did for the widow. Even if his own son was a model Viking, it never hurt to have an extra heir. Stoick must have felt threatened by Spitelout at some point. And struggled with pretending he wasn't. For a true chief shows no weakness, and no true son of the chief should feel threatened by a child who hadn't even been formally adopted into the family.

Feeling a rush of compassion, Valka reached and touched her husbands hand. She smiled at him. He too offered her a smile.

It was a perfect moment.

(...)

Afterwards the evening progressed calmly. The four of them have finished their meal, washed the dishes and their hands. Hiccup and Toothless went upstairs to their loft. Gobber went home. Stoick and Valka checked on their respective dragons, who slept outside. The chief then relaxed while carving a piece of wood. His wife racked her brains, trying to decide if there was anything else she needed to do. Tomorrow she would b leaving. Today she had to think on what she would say. Organize her thoughts. And convince herself that she really was choosing the least evil option there was. Events of the passing day were flowing through her head, mixing with the data she's gathered before. Colliding. Shaking. Scaring the life out of her.

Suddenly, she stopped.

There was something. Something about a toy that Hiccup didn't put away. But why would this suddenly seem important?

Oh gods.

OH GODS.

(...)

When she reached the loft, Hiccup was lying in his bed. Hearing the footsteps, he looked up from the book he was reading. Valka pushed herself towards him, as if closing the distance could strengthen her resolve to have this conversation.

"I wanted to talk to you," she began, taking a seat on her son's bed. "About Rhea."

Hiccup's eyebrows rose. "Our housekeeper? What of her?" he asked, looking at his mother with a hint of suspicion. She saw that he was trying very hard not to let his anxiety show, and that he wanted to check just how much she knew. It was the sort of reaction she had expected, but it still made her regret troubling him. Nonetheless, she had to be persistent. For both their sakes.

"Hiccup," she said softly, "you don't have to lie, or worry about hurting my feelings. I know she was like a mother to you."

He gave her a slightly cautious look. Understandable, as their relationship was still very much a work in progress, and she probably didn't rank that high on his list of trusted confidantes. Then, after a brief hesitation, he let out a weary sigh.

"I thought she was," he admitted, his remorse evident. "But now I know she was just doing her job. She never showed it, because she didn't want to get in trouble with my dad, but she must have hated me."

"Don't say that," Valka cut him off. "I'm sure it's not true."

"It's okay, Mom," he offered her a weak smile. "I've done my mourning and now I'm fine. Wherever she is, I hope she's alright. But I don't consider her family anymore. Right now she is just somebody that I used to know."

Valka felt a twinge of conscience. This poor child has already suffered so much because of her, and here she was, about to hurt him yet again. She hated having to do this, but acknowledged that some wound had to be ripped open in order to heal properly.

"You cried for her," she revealed.

Hiccup blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Back at the Sanctuary, you cried for her in your fever," she explained. "And only calmed down when Snotlout sung to you the song that Rhea used to sing to you. This was that thing that he did to you that he didn't want me to speak of."

Hiccup looked puzzled. "Snotlout sung to me? Really?"

"Yes," confirmed his mother. "Fear and doubt not allowed, and so on. He sung to you and it calmed you down."

"Oh. I wouldn't have thought..."

"That's not everything," the woman went on. It was timer to address her biggest concern, the one that brought her upstairs in the first place. "I think you said something like Rhea, I'm sorry I didn't put my toys away, please don't go. Hiccup do you blame yourself for what happened to Rhea?"

Hiccup's jaw dropped open. "I... no," he mumbled in panic, "it's not... I know it was an accident."

Valka grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes. "What you know doesn't always match what you feel. I know from experience."

Hiccup considered her with mild dread. She offered him a reassuring smile. He studied her face for a few more tense moments, his hand stiff in hers. For Valka, it felt like eternity, an eternity of self-loath, self-doubt and general anxiety, before her son's hand begun to feel warm again. An eternity, in which she had to put on a brave face, and provide him the comfort he needed. If Hiccup blamed himself for what had happened to Rhea, even subconsciously, she had to assist him in letting in out. Cure him. Act like a mother. And don't let her own insecurities and regrets get in the way.

Finally, after gods know how long, Hiccup drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I'll... tell you," he decided, sounding resigned. "Just please, promise you won't get angry."

Valka did her best to maintain the aura of reassurance. It seemed they were making progress, and she didn't want to jeopardize that. "I promise."

The Hooligan heir gave his mother an acknowledging nod. Then, after a moment of hesitation, begun to narrate.

"When I was little... well, littler, I was afraid of dragons. Seems so bizarre right now, after everything that happened, but I was," he admitted, a bit contemptuously.

"One day dad gave me this toy. A little stuffed dragon. He said that you had made it for me. That didn't matter to me. I was so scarred I wouldn't touch this thing. I kept it at the very bottom of my toys' box."

He paused and searched his mother's face. She was listening attentively.

"One day Snotlout found it," Hiccup went on. "When he discovered how scared I was of it, he used it to torment me. I ran to Rhea for help. She told me that toy was harmless. She smashed it against the pillar a couple of times, then threw it up and let it fall to the ground. All to prove that the dragon wouldn't defend itself, no matter what she did. I watched this and was scarred. For some reason I was sure that toy would do something to her. Something bad. She then kicked it to the corner of the room and said it would remain there until I gathered the courage to pick it up."

The Hooligan heir pressed his lips together for a moment.

"The following night she fell to the hearth," he revealed, grimacing at the memory. "I was sure that the toy was to blame. When dad took me fishing, I secretly took the thing with. And threw it far into the sea. That day I decided I would become a dragon killer. So that no dragon ever hurt the people I loved. I had lost my mother to a dragon. And the woman I loved like a mother left because of a toy dragon. It was stupid, I know, but I had told myself that this toy was the reason Rhea wasn't there anymore."

Agitated, he met Valka's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I know you had made that toy for me."

"Nevermind the toy," she told him hastily. "I'll make you another one. If you would have it, that is. But that's not the point. I just wanted to be sure you are at peace with yourself," she assured as she reached for his face. Her precious child, who felt he needed to apologize to her, even thought everything that had happened to him had been her fault. Seeing him now, so vulnerable and lost, she knew that her mission would be for his sake too. To give him back what he had lost. To cover for the damages. To right the wrongs. To be the mother he needed. To try her hardest. And think of his pain before her own.

Firm in her resolve, Valka addressed her son gently.

"I may not be the person who told you bedtime stories or taught you songs, but I do know how it is to feel down. To go back and forth between shame of myself and anger at the world. I have soared to the highest heights, but I have also seen the darkest of the dark. And I promise, with all that I know, with all that I am, I will always do my best to help you cope with whatever problem you're facing. If you so wish."

He watched her intently. With earnest, pleading eyes. She smiled at him fondly. Then, the faintest ghost of a smile brightened his face.

"Thanks, Mom. You're the best."

With these words, just like that, the tension that had pained them has left the room. A wave of relief washed over Valka as she touched her son's cheek.

"I love you, Hiccup."

"I love you, Mom."

The mother and son embraced each other. An embrace of love and affection, that gave life to pleasant warmth and hope. They may have been faulty, but they had each other. They would work. And fill in the gap that divided them. No matter how long it may take.

"Hiccup?"

"Huh?"

"When you were little, did you have a favorite bedtime story?"

He grinned. "Eirik the Cunning."

"Mind if I tell you the story now?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

And so she told him.

As a young man, Eirik participated in the battle of Hjorungavagr. As one of the 70 survivors he was taken captive by the enemy. The enemy chief Haakon offered to spare the life of anybody who knelt before him and swore fealty. The Vikings refused, so they were to be beheaded, one by one. 3 men have been killed when Eirik volunteered to be next. Seeing as the youngest hurries to die, all others began to shout to be next. That agitated the enemy, and they pulled Eirik forth. Now, Eirik happened to have very long hair, and asked a guard to hold it, so it wouldn't weaken the sword. In the last moment he pulled his head back, and the sword fell on the guard's wrists. Haakon was so impressed by the young man's bravery he decided to let him go. But Eirik refused to be freed unless all of his companions were freed too.

Thus the young, but very smart Viking saves the day and his comrades from certain doom.

This story showed that brutal strength without the brains was not very useful. It featured a hero Hiccup could identify with. A hero he had a chance to be like.

(...)

Valka watched her sleeping son in silent wonder. Tomorrow she may have to leave, but tonight she was at home, with her family. And everything was as it should be.

Tenderly she brushed Hiccup's hair off his forehead and kissed it.

AN:

In my world, Stoick and Spitelout are step-brothers. Which is, in my opinion, a fine combination of the book canon (blood brothers) and the TV series canon (members of different clans).

Also, I have been wondering how Hiccup ended up throwing the toy dragon away, and this was the version I came up with.

The story of Eirik comes from the books by Terry Deary.