Yggdrasil
the tree has many branches

In which I take the fandom's favourite trope and create my own AU... kinda passable, me thinks?

Warnings: grammatical mistakes, another fave trope galore...

Disclaimer: The How to Train Your Dragon franchise is property of Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks Animation.

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world 07

raised by dragons!au

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Once upon a time, Stoick the Vast had a son that was born during the worst lightning storm Berk had ever seen. He was small and weak, his breathing shallow, and his skin almost purple. The midwife had been silent when she saw him. His wife silently wept as she cradled him in her shaking arms.

Everything seemed hopeless, yet Stoick still held hope.

"You'll see. He'll be the strongest of them all." He'd say and every time the light in his wife's eyes would spark up brighter.

Alas not everyone agreed.

On the seventh day of his son's coming to their realm, Alvin burst through their hall. Furious and sneering, he demanded the death of his sole heir.

"He's a hiccup, a curse! Be done with him and maybe the Gods will leave us be!"

The village was agitated; the storm had yet to pass and Alvin seemed to have taken up his chance. He had riled up the villagers and they were now after his son. His small and vulnerable son.

He loved his village, but he loved his son more.

So Stoick refused and they fought, but Alvin has been planning for this and he was better prepared.

Villagers tore down their door and came at them by force. Neighbors he knew and respected, people he grew up with were coming for his family. So he picked up his axe and didn't let the sorrow or his guilt stop him from cutting down the people he once thought as his.

They barely escaped with their lives that night; him, Valka, and Hiccup. No one else. He hadn't seen a single friend in the midst of chaos, only foes. Not even Gobber and his heart went out for his oldest friend that had been left behind. Stoick made a promise to himself that night. He would be back; back to his village, back to his friend, back with his family and Heir to claim their birthright.

…&…

Bertha had taken them in with open arms. The Bog Burglar Chief had been a longtime friend of his and was quickly appalled with what had transpired. She let them stay as long as they needed and wanted. Valka and Hiccup, that is. Stoick had been another matter entirely.

"You know our laws, Stoick. No man is allowed to step in the village proper."

So with a scowl, he took up Bertha's offer to stay in one of their little islands not too far from the main one. He was provided with anything he couldn't hunt or fish and he coped with the bugs and the mosquitoes at night. His wife and son were safe and properly taken cared of; that was all that mattered to him.

So time flew like that. Years went by, with daily visits of his family, with his wife's sweet smile and his son's crawling and babbling and tugging at his beard. He had struck a bargain with the Bog carpenters and helped them out with their carvings in exchange of goods. Bertha had done good by her deal and kept him informed about Berk's situation.

Alvin still reigned Chief, ruling with fear and an iron fist. He had a few uprisings from the villagers that were still loyal to the Haddock line, but he stomped them down with executions and jailings. Stoick had been relieved to hear Gobber was still alive. He mourned of the loss of Finn Hofferson and Yacklegs Ingerman; the two men had been dear friends and great warriors. Their loss was a blow he wouldn't let go easily.

He feasted on any news Bertha's spies sent him. Eager to learn what had happened, eager to figure out who was friend and who was foe in the land that was once his home; the Hoffersons, the Ingermen, and a few lower clans were still loyal to the rightful line. The Thorstons were divided; half following tradition and the usurper chief, the other staying loyal to the Haddocks. The blow came with the Jorgensons; his power-hungry brother-in-law had followed blindly Alvin and basked in the highlight of his new appointment as Alvin's Right Hand and General.

The betrayal stung. He could see now why so many had been quick to attack; Spitelout had gone and riled them all up. His heart ached for his wife. She wouldn't take her brother's betrayal well.

The months flew and soon harvest came to settle. It brought along Bertha's Heir's fifth birthday and the Bogs were rushing to prepare the feast. Their Council had even given Stoick permission to enter for the day, to pay his respects, attend the feast, and spent moments with his family. He was to go back at his island by first light.

The feast had been well underway when the raid happened.

The devils had come with fury, burning and wrecking the village to the ground. Stoick fought alongside his battle-sisters, Bertha leading the charge with her Generals. He was cutting down another Nightmare when the screams began. Spears were thrown along with axes to a terribly grand devil. It had two set of wings and a fireblast that had burnt the Bog's Great Hall doors in one go. But that wasn't what Stoick caught.

Dangling in its claws, screaming his name and furiously beating its legs, was his wife.

And in her front, tied in a secure sling was his son.

"Valka!"

Stoick took off, ignoring Bertha yelling at him to come back, ignoring the chaos happening around him by the devils. His eyes focused only at his wife and son, his only family, the reason he now lived for, being taken away from him.

He wouldn't let that happen.

Armed with a spear, his axe, and a bow he set out with a single boat, after the beast. It was fast and it had quickly disappeared above the clouds, but Stoick had keen eyes and had seen the dragon heading north. So he set course, ignoring his injuries and the fact that he had no provisions. He didn't care at the moment; all he wanted was to have his wife and son back to his arms.

Six days later, his battered boat reached the shores of a grand glacier.