"Are you sure you should take 'im with ya, Stoick?" A soft voice cut through the din of the crowd, catching his attention quicker than the hand upon his wrist.
He turned and smiled lovingly at his wife before moving to put her worries at rest. "We'll be surrounded by nearly every Chief in the archipelago." He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her temple before glancing at the small babe within his arms. "I also know how worn down you've been, I'll take care of him. I promise." He smiled at her once more before boarding the ship.
Their son, now old enough to be separated from his mother, was more than ready to take the trip. Stoick could feel it in his guts. He had to take his son and although he was small, he would grow up just to be as great and mighty his father. Stoick smiled down at the babe cradled in his arms. First though, he needs to introduce him to the rest of the tribes. Maybe even strike up a marriage if he's lucky!
XxX
It was a long trip, days on the wide open sea, watching his son sleep peacefully between bouts of crying. Stoick would coo softly at the babe, trying to soothe him but being unable to. He learned from the female crewsmen, which helped greatly during the voyage to the meet.
They had finally arrived. Before them was Lava Louts island, smaller than Berk but richer in stone and metals. They were one of the lucky tribes not as plagued by dragon raids as most other tribes were. They were blessed by Odin himself it seems. Very few tribes got away with not being attacked by the vile beasts.
He snorted hatefully as he thought of the fire breathing vermin with wings. He shifted before turning to one of his crewmen. "Blow the horn, we must announce our arrival." He grunted before standing on the bow of the ship, holding his son.
Soon they docked, keeping all crewmen aboard to guard the ship from any thieves or treachery. It was common, so he kept his guards armed and on the ship. None came off with him, it was a meeting for only chiefs after all, only one accompanied him. Hiccup.
"Stoick!" A powerful voice bellowed as he stepped onto the docks, "it's been quite some time since we've seen one another! How's Valhallarama doing?"
Stoick grinned and turned towards his friend Moody the Murderous. "It has been quite awhile," he remarked, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "but the seas are calm and all is well with the Hooligans. Val is currently bedridden. She is expecting our next heir." Stoick announced proudly before dropping his gaze to the bundle in his arms.
Moody followed his gaze and nearly burst out laughing at the size of the babe. It was a runt, not an heir. He moved to voice his thoughts before he was shoved aside. Grunting in surprise he shot a nasty look at the one who shoved him.
"C'mon you lot, we oughta get on wit the meetin! Well I bet me favorite helmet that they mighta be gettin very annoyed with our delay!" The massive Viking announced before briskly pulling the two to the meeting place.
Stoick and Moody glared at the back of the burly Viking in unison. Bigjob was always a oddball and yet very few question him or his odd actions anymore. He was something else, but he was still a chief.
As the the three stragglers entered the room they came upon a heated argument between the Bashem Oiks and the Bog Burglars with the Berserker chief demanding that both shut up. Stoick inclined his head to the chiefs that had taken notice of his arrival, before taking his seat at the table and listening in on the argument between the two tribes.
The Bashem Oiks were demanding to be allowed space on Bog Burglars island for fish drying racks but the Burglars' were arguing vehemently against the demand. Soon both chiefs were standing and bellowing at one another, red in the face from the strain of the argument.
Stoick sighed and moved Hiccup into a more comfortable position. This will be a long meeting.
He was proven wrong. The shouting stopped when Moody pounded his fists upon the stone table - stone because every wood table was destroyed during each meeting - and roared for the two to stop. They did, albeit reluctantly, but still glared at one another across the table.
Finally with the room quieter than before Moody stood and began to speak on the reason of the meeting.
"Our people are struggling," he began, his deep voice echoing throughout the room, "dragons are attacking us and we need a way to stop them! I believe I speak for all gathered that we are sick of losing friends and family to those monstrosities. It needs to end. We all need to align ourselves together and hunt down the neat as one." Moody growled, pounding his fist once more upon the table.
His speech had captivated all within the room most nodding along thoughtfully. Each were all having their own problems with dragons and were barely surging as is.
"Aye! We struggle enough to get food for ourselves why should them beast steal our food!" A rough voice cried angrily.
"Them dragons have stolen me second born right from under me nose!" Another voice cried.
Soon the entire hall erupted into massive shouting matches over who has suffer the most or who lost the most. Stubborn Viking arguments. No amount of pounding on the table could stop the arguments that had broken out. They were riled up and needed someone to take their anger out on.
The door slammed open. Causing all gathered to quiet - and those who didn't were smacked until they did, it would have made Stoick laugh if it wasn't so tense in the room.
The massive stranger shuffled forward. His boots clicking on the wood tiled ground. He was hideous, scars marring his face and giving him a grotesque look. The man was cloaked in dragonhide. He was dangerous. No one spoke.
Finally the man broke the tense silence; "You are all having dragon problems," he began, turning his gaze across the room and all within it, "I can help with your dragon problem! I can get rid of them all for you. No longer will you need to worry if you family will be fed or if your young will reach adulthood." The man trained his cruel gaze on Stoick as he said the last statement.
Stoick evenly met his gaze and decided to be the first to speak. "There must be a price," he grunted, "no way would any man give this all for free. What's in it for you?"
The man grinned. "Smart for a dumb Viking," The man laughed before becoming serious once more, "if I get rid of your dragon problem you will all bow down to me. I will be the main ruler and I will solve your dragon problems! But, only if you relinquish your power and give it to me." The man finished with a flourish of his arms.
Soon after he finished his spiel bellowing laughter took over the room as all the chiefs mocked him for his plans of glory and power.
He grit his teeth before letting out a powerful roar and waving his fist in a circular motion. "You will regret this day." He roared. "You all will regret the day you laughed at Drago Bludvist!" He grinned cruelly once more. "Sadly none of your tribes will ever know what is to come. I'll be back one day." The man, Drago, turned and left. The moment he left the building dragons crashed down. Lighting the place on fire and catching the chiefs off guard.
It was mayhem, it was a mess. Men beating the dragons with their own fists only to have them brutally ripped limb from limb as they struggled. Any chief that attempted to leave was set aflame or snapped in half.
Stoick grimaced before shouldering his way past Bigjob - who had lost an arm after punching a gronkle - to reach the exit. Ignoring all dragons that had blocked his way. He wove around them, doing anything and everything to escape and protect his son. He couldn't fail.
It came too quickly. A nadder sprayed his arm with a length of spines before being smashed over the head by a chair from Moody. He nodded to Stoick before rushing off into battle once more.
Stoick lifted himself, favoring his now weak arm. His mind was hazy and all he could think of was escape. Nothing was more important than escape
He needed to escape.
He forgot his son. Hiccup was left abandoned in Stoick's wake. The young babe laid upon the ground, stunned and in shock. He had taken a nadder spine to the leg and had no way of expressing his pain or suffering.
He was alone. Everyone around him dead or dying. The dragons had left, just like his father. But he couldn't think all these thoughts. All his brain could convey to him was mind numbing pain, literally, and no one to help him.
He was just a hiccup.