Stoick struggled into his clothes. Mama needed to go and do her Chieftess chores, and couldna leave until he was up and fed. Mama's work was important—she helped the brides and the mothers with tiny babies, and checked on families when people were sick. She showed kindness to the women on Berk, and was a Mama to the tribe.
Stoick wished she could stay home. He always behaved better for her. He worried about yesterday; Father visited Stoick because he was in trouble, and needed a correction. It was a slapping and he had cried out, so Father corrected him a new and terrible way. His bottom had never been struck before, and he was ashamed to have earned such a disgraceful thing.
Stoick yanked his boots on—he was three and no longer needed help dressing—and turned to his bed. He tugged on the heavy, coarse fur to tidy it, and heard his father's voice outside. He hurried to the basin to splash cold water on his face before his father entered the room.
"Stoick."
His father stood in the doorframe, watching him lift the comb to run through his red hair; he had taken too long getting ready. Stoick stepped back and craned his neck to respond. "Papa? I am sorry, I didna mean to be late." Please be Papa. Stoick was not ready for another correction, not today.
"Ye're not late, lad. Mama and I let ye sleep in. Ye were overtired and we thought allowing ye to catch up was best." His lips turned up.
Papa was here and the fear inside him shrank. Papa was patient. He held Stoick and cared about him, and Stoick loved him much better than Father.
"Where's Mama? She has visits today." Stoick didn't see her, but Papa ought to know where to look.
"Aye, she left for them already. 'Tis the two of us, lad." He cleared his throat. "How do ye feel?"
"Better. I'm not so tired anymore." Yesterday's visit from Father had drained him. "Thank you, Papa, for letting me sleep."
"Why would I not let ye catch up?" His Papa's voice was loud and Stoick flinched and drew back. The large man noted his reaction, and spoke more gently. "I'm not angry. Hearing the apology ye gave surprised me, that's all. Ye are in no trouble."
His Papa lowered himself to the floor. "We can see each other better this way, aye?" Stoick nodded. "Come closer—Papa wishes to speak with ye." Stoick perched on the edge of his bed opposite Papa, wary. Papa didna shout, but Father did.
"I am in trouble, Stoick, and I want someone to talk with. Can ye be that someone for Papa?"
Stoick's green eyes widened. Grown-ups always behaved, and Chiefs never made mistakes, but Papa couldna lie. Papa listened to him, and it was his turn to listen; being in trouble was dreadful, and Stoick didna want him to feel worse.
"Aye, sir."
"Thank ye, lad. It's a tremendous favor ye do me." He reached out, tentative, and touched Stoick's hand. "Mama looked closely at ye last night, and saw the marks on your face. Ye were walking slow and careful and didnae want to eat but kept yourself quiet and apart from us." His father looked down for a moment. "I told her ye had been corrected and she asked about our visit."
Stoick hunched his shoulders. Mama fussed when he got corrected, and now he'd upset her. "I didna mean to trouble Mama. I will say I'm sorry."
"Lad, listen to me. I told her what I did and she became angry with me, up until I told her I spanked ye. Then Mama became doubly angry at me and couldnae get the words out of her mouth fast enough to tell me how awful I treated ye. Ye were my son and precious and I damaged ye." Stoick watched his Papa take a big breath and let it out. "She said I shouldnae be leaving the village without its Chief, and if ye were in disgrace she would see to it. When she asked me how I learned, I told her Ragna found me. There's no refusing Mama when she's angry."
"Aye, Papa." It was good Papa was a hero, because no coward could last before her tongue. Mama wasnae mean, but her words were always true and hard to hear.
"Mama reminded me she tends us that live in this house, because her family is her work before anything else, and every woman on Berk knows that comes before looking after the home or seeing to the tribe. If ye do something wrong, 'tis Mama's responsibility to teach you better. If she isnae here, ye must wait for her to come home."
"Ragna says we mustna bother Mama, because I am a son, and sons need their fathers to learn them better. Mama doesna have to teach me when you visit. Ragna fetched you because I didna heed," Stoick lowered his head, "and I earned my correcting."
"Mama says dropping a bucket is an accident. It is not disobeying and I shouldnae believed an oozing, stinky spill earned you anything other than a reminder to be careful and making ye clean it up. She's right, Stoick. I hurt ye over a wee mistake and that's always wrong." Stoick squeezed his father's fingers in consolation.
"Tis alright. I will stay with ye, and Mama willna be angry long. Did she tell ye how to fix the misdeed?"
"Aye, she did. I must apologize to you, lad. I scared ye and it wasnae needed. I slapped ye so bad ye couldnae stay quiet, then spanked ye 'til ye screeched. I didnae care you were hurt and frightened. All I did wronged ye, and I am so sorry, lad." Papa brushed his hand over his eyes; when he uncovered them, they were wet.
"Did she tell you to say sorry to me?"
"Aye. That's one thing I must do. I willna deny my wickedness to ye and I do apologize for all of it, all the way to raising my voice today. I behaved cruelly, and struck ye without mercy, and I canna take it back."
"I forgive ye." Stoick leaned closer. "What else did she say?"
"I must tell ye the rule of spanking on Berk. A child canna have one before age five—any younger leaves damage and expects too much from a youngster. I am the Chief and must follow the rules; if the Chief doesnae obey them, no one else in the tribe needs to, for the tribe uses their Chief as an example." He blew out a breath. "I risked harming everyone on Berk by punishing ye as I did."
"I willna tell anyone about it, Papa. 'Twill do harm if they hear and the Chief protects everyone, Mama says, sometimes from themselves."
He surprised Papa into a smile. "That sounds like her. She thinks all of Berk doesnae know how to behave properly." He grew serious again. "Ye ought to know about this wrongdoing of mine, because 'tis an awful danger. I let my temper rule me and beat my lad Stoick over nothing at all. Ye must think before doing something ye canna take back, for I never want ye to feel as I do now."
"Aye, Papa." After a time, Stoick asked, "Did ye say everything?"
"I told ye all I had to, but Mama thought I needed to lose something I treasured. So, she willnae dance with me until one month from now."
Stoick's jaw dropped. He couldna imagine his parents not dancing. It was their game: Papa would suggest it and Mama would say she had things to do, then he fully asked her and she smiled and called him foolish. Then he grabbed her hand and tugged her near. He whistled a tune, she laughed, and they sang and stepped and spun and turned 'til she ran out of breath. Mama would give that up to teach Papa better, and Stoick was the reason why. This wasna what he wanted, and Stoick didna know how to call the man in front of him, but it didna matter. He stood and addressed his father.
"I didna stay in shadows or hide my hurts from Mama well enough yesterday. Because of that, Mama is angry with ye and ye canna dance anymore. I admit my wrong and am in disgrace. Please instruct me so I may learn and improve."
Papa went still. He looked at Stoick, saying "Come close, lad, and be in front." He patted the floor between his legs. "I must explain something to ye, so we have no confusion between us; 'tis easier to listen if ye settle here." Stoick knelt and faced his father.
"Ye have gotten so good at using those words, Stoick. So many times ye said them in front of me, and I didnae realize how much correcting I did 'til now, or how much ye kept from Mama." Papa placed a scarred hand on his shoulder. "Do ye understand Mama will remain angry and I still willna be able to dance?"
"Aye."
"Why do ye do this?"
"Because a correction makes the anger go away, and ye feel better. It can make the sadness go, too."
Papa brushed his hand over Stoick's hair. "Ye dinna want me sad. Ye are in no trouble, but will let me hit ye so I feel better. 'Tis what ye tell me, true?"
"True."
"I willnae strike ye, lad. Ye did nothing wrong and there's no pretending elsewise; no good Papa harms his son to feel better and leaves him ashamed and fearful like I did."
"Mama doesna have to know." He would keep it secret. "I dinna want her unhappy."
"Ye dinnae want anyone unhappy, lad. 'Tis a good heart ye possess, Stoick, and I will tell what ye can do to make me happy."
"What is it, Papa?"
"If Ragna comes for me saying ye are in trouble, dinnae worry. Mama will be in charge if ye get in trouble, not me nor Ragna."
"I can do that. I stay out of mischief better when Mama's home. With Ragna, I always do more wrong, and then she has to fetch ye." Stoick sat thinking. "If Ragna tells me to use the privy, do I? She always does before she leaves to find ye, but when Mama tends to my misdeeds, she doesna force me." It was confusing how differently Mama and Ragna behaved. "I dinna have to wait and think with Mama either."
Papa pushed his lips flat. Father wore that look when he was almost angry, and Stoick tried to sort out what he'd done wrong. When Father spoke, it was Papa's voice.
"If she tells ye to go before she tries to fetch Papa, do what she asks. She will know soon enough to let Mama see to any misdeeds, and Mama will decide. When Ragna leaves, are ye alone?"
"Aye. Brenna is at lessons and wee Flint canna leave Mama. Why?"
"When the house helper leaves ye, she isnae acting right. Ragna needs to come see Mama and me so we can remind her of the place she holds here." Papa scowled, but Stoick didna feel he was in trouble. "Mama and I are displeased with her. Even grown people have rules to follow, and Ragna has broken some of hers. She needs to learn her own lessons, and we will remind her that she isna the Chief of the island or in charge of this house and ye children."
"Ragna's in trouble? For true?"
"For true. She didna heed and she willna be permitted to overstep her boundaries any longer."
"Alright. Will she be unhappy?"
"Aye. 'Tis her own fault—she was pleased to do wrong and willna like having to act rightly. Mama and I cherish ye children as treasures, and will never allow her to cause strife in this family or bring hurt to ye, Brenna, or Flint. We protect our own family first, and tend to the island after."
"Alright. Papa?"
"Aye, lad?"
"Did I do well with listening, so talking helped ye?"
"Aye, Stoick, ye are a good listener. I'm still sad, but ye were a comfort and forgave me, even though I dinna deserve it. Thank ye, lad." Papa opened his arms and Stoick hugged him close until Stoick's stomach rumbled. Papa chuckled.
"I'll fetch some dagmal* for ye and afterwards we go see Mrs. Iverson. She's tending ye today." He boosted Stoick to reach two mugs down, and began to whistle Lucky Leif's Journey. He wasna sad like before, with tears and worry. Yesterday 'twas hard for them both, but Father had gone away. Only Papa was here, bringing out blueberries and handing him the dipper. Stoick tugged out two chairs and filled their mugs, eager to help his Papa.
§ § §
*Dagmal—"day meal"—was the Viking equivalent of breakfast.
AN: This is a work of fan fiction based on the
How to Train Your Dragon book series by Cressida Cowell and the Dreamworks franchise. All rights belong to them. The original characters of Stoick's parents and the housekeeper are my creations, as is the story idea.