"There were dragons when I was a boy. The beasts ravaged our village time and time again. Spreading nothing but fear and hatred, and sorrow," the voice trailed off solemnly.
"And then?" the man glanced at the bouncing boy in his lap. A hand-sewn natter held carefully and tightly to his chest. His green eyes staring up at his father in wonder.
He smiled fondly at the boy, remembering the next part of the tale. A story he had told a thousand times before and would do so a thousand more to the look on the boy, his boy's face.
"And then, I met your mother, the love of my life."
"What was she like?" the boy asked curiously.
"She was kind. Smart, more than anyone I have ever known, and stubborn enough to rival even me," the man chuckled. The boy giggled as a light lit up the hearth.
Thunder shook the house a moment later. The boy's eyes grew wide at the sound as he screamed, hiding his face in his fathers chest. He gave no mind to the hairs tickling his nose or the rumbling beneath his ear.
A calloused hand gently ran over the boy's messy locks. Still tangled after his time outside that day, going well with the bedhead he was already sporting.
"She was brave, too. Her courage could light up the stars and chase away anything that befell her. The only thing that was stronger was her love." His father said, his voice calming the shaking boy. His last gift from his late wife.
"What happened to her?" the curious boy asked. His father sighed heavily. It was a story for another night, but he couldn't resist looking into her jade eyes.
"She was lost. When you were a babe, she left trying to protect you and I was too late to protect her." He continued Solemnly. "You were her world and mine. Now, off to bed or she would tan my hide." His son giggled, reaching up to hug his father's neck. The chief hugged his son to his chest as he stood to his full height. His feet landed with a thud as he walked up the stairs to his boy's bedroom.
The man smiled, placing his son on the bed, tucking him in. His son yawned, his eyes dropping the second his head touched the pillow. Stoic gave his son a kiss to his forehead before pulling back.
"Good night Hiccup."