Okay, so before I post the third story about Learners Bay, I had to write this. This is a little one-shot that popped in my mind at dinner. It's written from Stoick's point of view, describing the first few months after Hiccup ran away, or as the vikings believe, was taken by a dragon. There will probably be more of these one-shots focusing on the vikings, maybe Astrid and Gobber too, but no promises at this moment.

Let me know what you think!

Enjoy!

The Adventurous Adventures of Hiccup and Wrenlou

No One Is To Blame, One-shot

I was pushing through the dense forest. The emotions swirling within me were mixed. At one side I had never been happier. My son had been chosen to kill the dragon! He would finally become a man, the viking I always wanted him to be. But the other side was nagging. The other side had seen Hiccup's expression when Gothi choose him, had seen his despair.

He had left as soon as he could and last I saw him, he was running into the forest. I had attempted to follow him, but soon lost him because he was so small he could reach places I never could.

'Hiccup! Hiccup, where are you! I want to talk to you! Just talk...'

No answer came.

I didn't really expect it to. For as long as I could remember, Hiccup avoided confrontations with me as the plague. When he had been younger, he had been cheerful, his eyes always seeing the wonders of the world, but over the years as he aged, he had lost that cheer and it had been replaced with sarcasm. He started avoiding me more and more, only talking to me when he had to. I had no idea how to get through to him. I was a single father who lost his wife to soon after the birth of his first and only son, I had no idea how to raise a child, let alone talk to him.

'Hiccup! Come back here at once!'

I forced my way through the forest, trying to find the path Hiccup had taken, but I failed. A very unpleasant feeling started to form in my heart. Something was wrong. Something wasn't as it should be. Branches snapped under my weight, leaves got stuck in my beard, my bearskin cloak got snagged on trees more that once, but I didn't care. I had to find Hiccup. He was in danger, I could sense it. The little hairs at the back of my neck were standing upright, a shudder ran down my spine as I suddenly stood frozen.

Something large was moving through the forest. And it was most likely a dragon.

Then I heard the scream.

It sounded like a child in distress, but not just any child.

It was my child.

'Hiccup! Hiccup where are you!'

I pushed forward, using my size to simply break through the trees. Branches and twigs snapped as I pushed towards that scream a knot forming in my stomach. As I broke a tree that was standing in my way, the wood splintering when I pulled it apart, there was a second sound that made my blood go cold.

The roar of a dragon.

My eyes grew wide and I stood frozen for only a moment, then I rushed forward with renewed energy. Hiccup's voice pierced the air again, but he wasn't screaming this time.

He was crying for help.

He was crying for me.

I broke one more tree out of my way, then I saw him. Hiccup, my Hiccup, scrambling across the forest floor. He was running, or trying to. He stumbled, his clothes becoming torn. From this distance I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was crying. I had heard it in his voice before.

A dragon roared, obviously angered, and Hiccup screamed again.

And that's when I saw the gigantic head of a Monstrous Nightmare appear through the trees. Branches snapped like twigs under the weight of the dragon as he went after the child. Hiccup ran, screaming and crying.

It was clear to me that he was terrified.

It was clear to me that he was in danger, grave danger, and yet I did nothing.

I couldn't do anything besides stare as Hiccup tripped, tumbling down a slope, his fall softened by a pile of leaves. Before he could get up, the head of the dragon snapped down, latching onto his leg and pulling him into the air.

I watched frozen as he dangled between the Nightmare's jaws, his blood curdling cry of agony piercing my ears, and yet I was still powerless to do anything.

My legs felt like they were made of stone, and kept me in my place.

My tongue had never been as dry before and I couldn't make a sound.

All I could do was stare at the dragon that was going to kill my son in front of my eyes.

The Nightmare flung his precious prey into the air and opened his wings. Before the boy hit the ground, he was grabbed by the dragon, another agonized scream escaping his lips as I saw one of the dragon's talons pierce his side.

He went limp soon after, his cries fading. Blood was trickling from his mangled leg, hanging in a strange angle, almost completely torn off. He was bleeding badly from the wound in his side, where the dragon still had a hold on him.

I could swear that I heard his voice in a broken, helpless whisper before his head fell back and the dragon carried his limp body, his dead body, with him to their accursed nest.

And still all I could do was stare.

I hated myself for it. How could I let this beast kill my only son? How could I just stand here, frozen like a deer surrounded by dogs?

I, Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Hooligan tribe, the most feared dragon killer in all of Berk, had just let a dragon take my only son.

I had let the beast attack him.

I had let that beast kill the only thing I had left of my wife.

I had let a dragon kill the future chief of Berk.

No one was to blame, only me.

No one had been here, seeing what I just saw.

No one was to blame.

It was my fault.

0-0-0-0-0-0

I shot up, sweat trickling from my forehead and stinging my eyes, mixing with the tears on my cheeks. It took a moment before I realized that I had been dreaming again. No one had actually seen Hiccup being taken by a dragon, but my experiences on the matter filled in the rest after we had found the tracks.

For weeks after I had held hope.

Hope that we would find him.

Hope that he was just hiding somewhere and would show up soon enough.

Hope that faded with every day he wasn't here.

I took a shuddering breath before I slipped out of bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor. I shivered, but didn't pull a tunic over my head. I didn't care about the cold.

My feet tentatively led me to the door of Hiccup's room and my hand hovered over the doorknob. It had been months since his disappearance, and I hadn't been in his room once since he went missing. I always felt that I would be violating something if I did, that I would destroy the memories I had of him.

But when I finally found the courage to open the door and step inside, I found that the memories flooded me from all sides.

I saw his helmet, the one I had given him not long before he disappeared, still hanging on his bedpost.

I saw the little toy Nadder that his mother had made for him, still standing besides his pillow.

I saw his desk, still covered with drawings and ideas, papers still scattered on the floor around it.

I saw the door to his closet, still opened a little, his clothes still inside it.

It was like he never left.

Everything was where he left it, everything was like it had been when he had actually been living here. I took a step forward, but grief took me.

I could see it now.

The longing behind the mask, the loneliness behind the smile, the desire to be loved, accepted by his clan.

To be loved and accepted by me.

I sank to the floor, hugging my chest. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but I couldn't. All he had wanted was for people to accept him, for people to see him for what he was.

He had tried, time and time again to earn my love, while he had it all along.

He just never knew, because I never showed it. Because I never treated him like a father should treat a son.

I could see that now, and it only aggravated my grief.

My son had died alone, wounded and scared, screaming for help that never came. That much I knew. I could only hope that the dragon had killed him quickly, that his suffering was over before it began, but I had no way of knowing.

My beard became wet with the tears rolling over my cheeks as I sat there in Hiccup's room. It had been months, but it still hurt...

I had lost my wife to a dragon, and then I had lost my son the same way.

And no one was to blame, but me.

All my actions, all my words directed towards the boy, all the times I didn't listen had led to the moment where he had gone into the woods, instead of coming home to celebrate with me. He had rather been alone than with his father, getting ready for the fight.

And it had cost him dearly.

It had cost him his life.

And it was my fault.

All of it was my fault.

No one was to blame for his death.

No one was to blame.

No one.

Only me.

0-0-0-0-0-0

So sorry for the depressing words... I had to write this before I lost it again. Just a little one-shot about Stoick's feelings. Think of it what you like, but please share your feelings on this. It was kind of... experimental.

Alright! Let's leave the depression behind okay? After this it's back to Hiccup!