The Nightmare groaned as she woke to rain pelting down on her through the trees. It was cold as it beat against her scales. Little to no chance of seeing her hatchling today; the dragon had noticed Vikings tend to stay out of the elements, especially the hatchlings. Good to know. Add to the list: flame the food, coverings important, and stay out of the elements. She stretched, shook herself off then crept through the trees to the edge of the woods. Settling down she watched the wooden cave her hatchling lived in. She should go back to her own cave, he would be worried. However, she had been there just last night. He could wait till evening.
Hiccup didn't wake Stoick up before dawn. In fact, Stoick had to wake the boy up shortly after dawn by pulling the blanket off him. Hiccup groaned and curled himself into a ball when the cold morning air hit him.
"Come on, Hiccup. Time to get up." Stoick said. Hiccup mumbled something that sounded like no. Rolling his eyes, Stoick leaned down to pick his son up under the arms.
"No." Hiccup whined, drawing the word out as he rubbed his eyes and pulled his feet up. If he kept them up his dad might put him back on the bed. Stoick raised his eyebrows but waited. Unwillingly, Hiccup uncurled letting his feet hang and Stoick lowered him to the floor and pointed to the main room. The boy left the bedroom dragging his feet, which suited Stoick just fine; no non-stop chatter before he had his tea. While Stoick got their breakfast Hiccup slowly pulled his chair back, it thumped twice on the uneven floorboards, and climbed in it. He sat at the table and laid his head on his arms yawning.
"Here sleepyhead," Stoick said as he nudged Hiccup's arms with a bowl of porridge. Hiccup sat up and rubbed his eyes while Stoick sat down with his own porridge. The boy quietly poked at his breakfast not interested in eating it and Stoick was able to finish his mug of tea in silence before Hiccup really woke up.
"Dad, can I have the rope?" Hiccup asked pushing his spoon around his bowl.
Stoick looked up from his porridge and eyed Hiccup. "Why?"
"Juth, Juth," Hiccup let out an exasperated sigh, "Why can't I talk right?" He asked his father.
Stoick tried to hide his smile in his beard, "You wanted to lose the tooth."
"But why doeth, doeth," He groaned in frustration, "that make me talk funny?"
"It happens to everyone when they lose their front teeth." Stoick said going back to his porridge.
"But why? It didn't happen when I lotht my bottom teeth."
Stoick got up and cleared his dishes away. "I don't know, Hiccup. It's only the top ones. You'll be able to talk right again eventually." He tilted his son's head back to check the cut on Hiccup's chin but it seemed fine, on the other hand the bruise was nasty. The boy still smelt like ale. Stoick had told Gobber the cloth only needed to be dipped in the ale to clean the wound, not soaked. "Why do you want the rope?" Stoick asked again. He had put it away on the tallest shelf after the whole 'trying to fly' fiasco. Why couldn't the boy play normal games like a normal child?
"I wanna try thomething." Hiccup said while playing with his porridge.
Stoick wet a cloth and gently wiped Hiccup's chin, trying to wash the smell of ale off. "What do you want to try exactly?"
"Thomething." Hiccup said.
"No, you cannot have the rope. Eat your breakfast."
Hiccup sighed and pushed his porridge around some more. "Eating hurth." He said.
"Let me see." Stoick pulled Hiccup's chair out and checked on the missing tooth. He was a little worried about infection; mothers of other children had warned him that that could happen if a tooth was pulled early. Plus, Hiccup had woken him up in the night because it was bleeding again.
"Ow." Hiccup said. He squirmed in his chair.
"Have you been leaving it alone?" Stoick asked him.
Hiccup fidgeted, "It feelth weird."
"You have to leave it alone, Hiccup. Finish your milk; you don't need to eat the porridge." Stoick picked up Hiccup's bowl and scraped it out into the pot to be taken out later. The sound of rain drumming against the house filled the silence.
"I'm done. Can I go play?" Hiccup asked.
Stoick tore a rag and dipped it in the ale barrel, "In a minute. Come here."
Hiccup stayed in his chair. "Do I have to? That thtuff is gross."
"It will prevent infection and numb the pain. Come here."
Reluctantly Hiccup got up and went over to accept the ale soaked rag and held it to the gap in his teeth.
The rain didn't let up all morning so Hiccup was stuck inside. That was all well and good when he was supervised but Stoick had a midmorning meeting in the Great Hall. Odin only knew what the kid could get up to when left to his own devices.
"Hiccup, I'm leaving." Stoick called up to the loft.
"Okay." Hiccup shouted back.
"Hiccup," Stoick said again. Hiccup appeared at the top of the stairs.
"I know, I know. Thtay inthide, don't touch the weaponth, be good." Hiccup said rolling his eyes.
"And leave your gum alone." Stoick added opening the door. It was pouring out.
"Dad," Hiccup said, "How long will you be gone?"
"Mid-afternoon at the latest. Depends on how blockheaded they'll be. Your midday meal is out: the bread's on the table and there's a mug of buttermilk in the cold box. Dip the bread in the milk to soften it. Eat it all." Stoick said. There would be flooding with this much rain. He'd bring that up at the meeting.
"Okay," Hiccup said, "Bye." He disappeared again. Stoick shook his head and went out into the rain. He was wet through almost instantly.
Except for the sound of rain in the leaves the morning was silent. The Nightmare huffed and shifted again. How was she supposed to figure out how to care for a Viking hatchling if she never saw her Viking hatchling? She lifted her head when she saw the Viking leave the nest. Without the hatchling. The little one was left alone a lot. He needed to be taken away so he could be looked after properly. The Viking was only gone for a little while before there was a crash from inside the nest. There were other muffled thuds and bangs so the Nightmare assumed the hatchling was fine. About midday, she saw a hole open in the back of the nest and her little hatchling peeked out at the rain. She lifted her head and watched him dart out into the rain over to a pile of wood that was under part of the nest. He took time to go through the pile as if he were looking for something specific, getting soaked through. The Nightmare rose to her feet. It would be so easy to snatch him away right now. She crouched and shook her shoulders, ready to take off and grab him. He found what he was looking for and headed back to his nest lugging a block of wood. The Nightmare settled again, she could be patient. If she didn't learn how to care for him properly she would be no better than his sire.
Numbskulls. Stoick thought as he trudged home through the rain. All of them, complete numbskulls. He looked up at the sky, no sign of the rain stopping. He'd be cooking tonight then. The puddles were so large Hiccup could drown in one on the way to the Great Hall. Stoick would have a mug of mead in front of the fire to warm up once he got home and then stay there for the night. He looked forward to that until he opened the door. The house was a mess. The rope was hanging in two swaying strands from the loft, there were muddy footprints from the back door going up the stairs, and the hatchet was missing. Stoick heard a thud and "Umph" from upstairs.
"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III!" He shouted.
His son's freckled face peaked down from the loft, his wet hair sticking to his forehead. "Hi Dad." He said sheepishly.
"Here. Now." Stoick said pointing to the floor in front of him. Hiccup took his time climbing down the stairs and stood before his father with his head hanging. He was drenched. "What is all this?" Stoick asked. He was calm; he would not lose his temper.
Hiccup looked around the room, "Ummm."
"Did I say you could play with the rope?" Stoick asked evenly.
"No, but I'm not-"
"Did I tell you to stay inside?"
"Yeth, but I needed-"
"Where is the hatchet?"
"Upthtairth."
"Are you allowed to touch the weapons?"
"No, but the hatchet'th a tool-"
"Then why is the rope out and the hatchet upstairs? Why are you wet? Why is there mud in the house?" Stoick was raising his voice again. He took a deep breath.
"I wanted to try thomething." Hiccup said quietly.
"Okay," Stoick said, covering his eyes, "You have one minute to explain all of this. What were you doing with the hatchet?"
Hiccup fidgeted, "Trying to thplit a log."
Deep breath. Stay calm. "Why are you trying to split a log?" Good, calm and even.
"Becauthe the chair didn't work." Hiccup spoke very quietly. He knew he was in a lot of trouble; he could tell by how red his father's face was.
For the first time Stoick noticed Hiccup's chair on its side pushed away from the rope ends. "The mud?"
"I had to go outthide for the wood. The oneth, onesth, inthide are too thmall." Hiccup was staring at the floor.
"The rope?"
"I was uthing it to thwing. I can show you,"
"No!" Stoick took a deep breath. "No. Take off your boots, get changed and dried off. Then, you will sit on your bed and wait for me. Do you understand?" Stoick said as calmly as he could. Hiccup nodded, still looking at the floor. "I said, do you understand?"
"Yeth thir." Came the quiet answer.
"Good. Go do it." Stoick said. Hiccup took his boots off, hurried to the bedroom and closed the door quietly. Stoick took his own boots off followed by his soaked cloak. First things first he mopped up the puddle that had formed while he had been talking to Hiccup. Then he cleaned up the mud, put the wood and hatchet away, and picked up Hiccup's chair. Stoick considered the rope but left it for now. How did the kid even get it down? Only half the buttermilk was gone and the bread picked at. Stoick sighed; Hiccup had been in there long enough. He took a deep breath as he thought about the hatchet. Best to leave it a little longer, start supper, calm down more. He started cutting up a turnip to put in the stew pot. Stoick added some salted boar and cut up carrots to put in. They didn't usually eat at home unless Gobber came over so Stoick didn't often cook, but with the rain he thought it was best. There was still possibility of infection and that was the last thing Stoick wanted so he was playing it safe.
Hiccup sat against his head board with his arms wrapped around his knees. He hadn't seen his dad this mad in a while. He sniffed; he had been there a long time. Maybe he had been forgotten. Maybe he wasn't really in that much trouble. Maybe something had come up and his dad would have to go deal with that instead. The rain drummed on the walls muffling sounds from in the main room, that could have happened and Hiccup hadn't heard it. Hiccup wiped his nose on his sleeve. The bedroom door opened and all Hiccup's hopes fell as his dad came in. He hugged his knees a little tighter and sniffed again.
Stoick sat down on the edge of Hiccup's bed causing it to creak, "Do you know what you did wrong?" He asked.
Hiccup nodded without looking up. His lower lip was trembling.
"Do you know why it was wrong?"
Hiccup sniffed again and wiped his nose before shaking his head. "Becauthe you thaid tho?" He was close to tears, Stoick could tell and it made what came next so much harder.
"I said so because it's what's best for you. I don't want you to get hurt, Hiccup. The rope and hatchet are not toys. Do you understand?" Hiccup nodded. "Come here." Stoick said. Hiccup slowly let go of his knees and crawled to his dad, trying to delay the inevitable. He knew what was coming and had been dreading it.
In actuality, waiting for the spanking was worse than the spanking itself. A fact that worked in Stoick's favour; he liked to give himself time to calm down. He hated to punish Hiccup when he was angry. This also gave Hiccup time to consider what he had done and whether or not it was really worth it. Unfortunately, Stoick was often too busy to do this right.
Stoick sat Hiccup up on his knee after. He rubbed the boy's back as Hiccup sniffled into his shoulder, "You okay?" Stoick asked. Hiccup nodded as he fiddled with his father's beard. "Are you going to leave the hatchet alone?" Hiccup nodded again. "Good." There was silence apart from Hiccup's sniffling and the rain outside. "You know," Stoick took a deep breath, "You know I- that, I love you- right?" Hiccup nodded yet again and buried his face in Stoick's shoulder. For a while Stoick simply sat there with Hiccup, listening to the rain.
"Alright lad," Stoick said, "Let's make sure supper isn't boiling over." Stoick set Hiccup on his feet and got up. He took his son's hand and led him out of the bedroom. Quietly, Hiccup crossed the room and climbed into his chair. Without a word he watched his dad cut up some cabbage and add it to the pot. He had noticed the rope was still there but tried to ignore it.
"So what were you doing with the rope? Stoick asked. He cut up an onion for the stew.
"Trying to make thomething." Hiccup mumbled.
"Ah," Stoick said, "And what was it you wanted to show me?"
"I need the rope to show you and you thaid the rope'th not a toy."
"If an adult's helping you use can use it. I just don't want you playing with it by yourself." Stoick said as he wiped his hands on his tunic after putting the onion in the pot.
"You mean like you or Gobber?" Hiccup asked. He sat up in his chair.
"Maybe not Gobber, he needs an adult watching him most the time."
Hiccup smiled a bit at that. "I can show you." He got up, ran over to the rope and jumped at it. "Thee!" He said clinging to the rope as he swung back and forth. "I wath trying to make thomething tho thith ith eath- eath- easthier."
"I see," Stoick pulled Hiccup off the rope and put him on the ground. "Why are you doing this?"
"Cauthe it'th fun." Hiccup said looking up at his father like this was the most obvious answer.
"Of course it is." Stoick said. Of course swinging on an unsteady rope was fun. How could it not be fun? He could only break a bone, get a concussion, or, Thor forbid, get tangled in the rope while hanging there. "Not very safe though, is it?"
"But Dad, I'm trying to fixth that. Thee, I wath trying to thplit the log and then I wath going to tie it to the rope endth, and then I don't have to hang on." Hiccup said grinning up at his father. Stoick pushed the thought of Hiccup with the sharp hatchet aside.
"You need the log split?" Stoick asked. He liked having his son happy and wanted to keep that grin. He was getting used to the missing tooth.
"Yeah, I wath trying to earlier but it took a while to get the hatchet up to my room and it'th a lot harder than it lookth." Hiccup said. He looked anywhere but at his father as he said this; the spanking still stung. At least the boy understood about the hatchet.
"Here," Stoick pulled out the log and grabbed the hatchet. With a quick, easy swing he had the log split. He picked up one half and gave it to Hiccup. The boy had to wrap both arms around the log and it still seemed like it would topple him over.
"Really? We can try?" Hiccup asked. The look of pure glee on his face gave Stoick his answer.
"Yes, we can try. But I don't want you doing things like this alone. Deal?"
"Deal." Hiccup said trying to run to the rope while holding the split log. "We need to tie it on like thith." He struggled to hold the log up next to the ropes, "Thee? That'th why I tied the rope up thith way. Thith end tieth here and that one on that thide."
After trial and error they cut wedges in the wood to keep the ropes in their place. Hiccup wanted to try it standing on the wood but Stoick insisted he sat on it. Then Stoick insisted the log be shortened so Hiccup could hold both ropes. Finally it was ready.
"Dad can you push me? I can't make it go."
What could go wrong; Stoick was right here to catch the lad if he fell. He tugged the rope again, testing the strength, "Hold on." Stoick said. Hiccup took hold of the left rope. "Both hands." Hiccup took the other rope and Stoick gave him a small nudge.
"Dad." Hiccup whined, "More than that. I barely moved."
Stoick pulled it back and gave a gentle push, smiling at Hiccup's delighted laugh.
"It workth Dad! Can you push me higher?" Stoick obliged; it all seemed safe enough and it made Hiccup happy. After a while Hiccup was sitting on the swing as it slowly went back and forth trying to find a way to work it by himself. He had asked his dad if he wanted to try but Stoick had said no.
"Dad, what'th that thmell?" Hiccup asked. Stoick cursed under his breath, supper. He stopped the swing and took Hiccup off of it before checking the pot. Confused, Hiccup stepped over and ducked under Stoick's arm to peek at the stew. He scrunched up his nose, "You burned it. Again."
Stoick sighed, "It's not that bad."
The boy rolled his eyes, "That piethe ith black," He said pointing at a piece of - something, "Ith it thupoth- thu-. Should it be?"
Supressing a chuckle at Hiccup's speech problems Stoick ruffled his son's hair, "It's fine. It'll be good and soft. Let's see your tooth." He pushed Hiccup towards his chair and knelt down. Hiccup opened his mouth and flinched when Stoick touched it. It looked a bit inflamed. Sighing inwardly Stoick decided to put alcohol on it later and give the kid more broth than stew. He checked the cut on Hiccup's chin but it was healing fine. He had been right, it wouldn't leave a mark. Stoick brushed his finger on the scar Hiccup had had since he was six months. The image of the Nightmare taking off with his son flashed through Stoick's mind again. Pushing the thought aside Stoick stood up and got a couple of bowls for the stew.
Hiccup poked at the contents of his bowl when Stoick put it in front of him. "I don't like it."
Stoick really couldn't blame him, "Three bites." Tentatively, Hiccup took a small bite and made a face. "Swallow it." Stoick said before the kid spit it out. It was pretty bad. Stoick got up and took Hiccup's bowl then brought out what was left of Hiccup's midday meal. He put it in front of the boy. "Here. Eat all of it."
"You thaid three biteth." Hiccup whined.
"Three bites of the stew; you can eat all of this. Just soak the bread in the milk and you should be fine." Stoick went back to his own supper. He noticed Hiccup's eyes wandering over to the swing. "Finish your supper first and then you can play." Stoick said. Hiccup began picking at his bread.
Thanks for all your support and the reviews :) I'd also like to thank CB for editing and revision help and my sister, Kinkipdip, for checking characterization for some chps/scenes.
Speaking of which please tell me what you thought of Stoick in this cause I was a little worried about him being ooc; especially in the spanking scene. Interesting note about a detail in that scene: my dad was a redhead and the angrier he got (which was rare, he was pretty easygoing) the redder he got. It was a good indicator of how much trouble we were in.
Hopelessromantic4life: Yeah, Snotlout always seemed like the cowardly tough guy to me and not overly vicious. I don't think he ever would purposely hurt Hiccup but would freak out if he did. I certainly knew kids like that when I was growing up. He's a hidden softy :)
Guest 1: Wouldn't you like to know ;)
Mypettailor1: Thank you :) I really tried to keep them all in character which is a bit tricky when aging down characters but I really had fun with Snotlout. And Hiccup's chatter, I was like that as a kid so it was easy to do and I figured this is where the root of never listening could come from. It just seems like the rift between Stoick and Hiccup in the movie was recent, like a result of Hiccup becoming a teenager and Stoick just not knowing how to deal with that. Hiccup's simply too well adjusted to have had a terrible childhood. I do plan on having Hiccup grow up in this story but sadly for now that is all I can say on that without spoilers. I do, However, like the idea of Stoick and Gobber reminiscing about Hiccup growing up. Maybe I can bring in some baby Hiccup for that cause the idea of Stoick dealing with a toddler in diapers amuses me. I do have another story I'm working on that covers that though...
Guests 2 and 3: I plan on updating every Wednesday. I've posted a schedule and most of that stuff is written, not necessarily revised and edited but written. The schedule is mostly for me to keep to or else I'd post what I had and then get ahead of myself, this way I don't hurry the writing process. And chp 10 is by no means the last chp, just a break in the story for a bit.