Little Miracles

Chapter Eighteen: Little Miracles

Stoick's resolve seemed to seep out of him overnight. He stared at the ceiling, not wanting to emerge from bed and face his son or granddaughter. Their disappointed faces were more than he could handle right about then. But he also knew that Gobber would be along any minute and that if he remained in bed, he would almost assuredly be dragged out. This prospect was about as pleasant as the first and so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

He had barely gotten himself ready to emerge from his house when Gobber hobbled over, giving him a very stern look. Stoick shook his head.

"You don't have to drag me. I'm coming. I told you I would." He said, pulling open the door and facing the outdoors.

The village was quite empty, in part because of the early hour but mostly because of the events of the previous days. Parents were huddled together with their children, not wanting to let them go for fear that Adrianna's fate would soon befall their little ones.

"You think we're a bit early?" Gobber asked, his eyes falling upon the Haddock house. "They might not be awake."

"I want to get this over with." Stoick said firmly. "Astrid's an early riser. She'll be up."

The two older Vikings sauntered over to the house, breathing deeply and taking in the air. Stoick felt like these might be his last moments with his family so he was beginning to feel like putting off the inevitable might be preferable to facing two pairs of identical cold green eyes.

Gobber raised his fist and knocked on the door, feeling like formalities might be important due to the residents' sensitivity. It was opened a few seconds later by a tired-looking Astrid.

"Stoick... Gobber..." she stifled a yawn. "Hiccup's barely functional."

Feeling like this was more of an improvement, Stoick pushed past his daughter-in-law and looked his son, who was sitting at the table with his head resting on his palm. Hiccup visibly tensed.

"Dad." He said, still sounding groggy.

"You don't have to speak to me again after this." Stoick began, crossing the room and sitting across from his son. "But you have to hear me out. Just today."

"Dad, now isn't really the best..."

"Just listen, Hiccup." Gobber added, striding forward and pulling up a chair. "And you too, Astrid. Just let the man speak."

Stoick wasn't sure whether to thank Gobber or to glare at him. But he refrained from any reaction as Astrid sat down next to her husband, looking about as rigid as he did. The group stared at each other in stony silence for a few seconds.

"Adrianna is okay?" Stoick asked at last, averting Hiccup's gaze.

'Of course not." Hiccup replied, his stomach twisting slightly. "But she will be."

"Good... good." Stoick said to the table. "Trista has been... dealt with. By the Berserkers."

"You're sure she's actually dead?" Astrid asked in a low tone.

"I made sure they did it. There are at least seven witnesses from Berk alone. She won't be back, that I can promise."

Hiccup stared at his hand, which was clutching a mug so tightly, the knuckles were white. He just wanted Stoick to get out. He wasn't ready to face his father, not yet. He knew his anger was slightly misdirected but he didn't care. His father was partially to blame and with Trista now dead, he was the only one to blame.

"Is that all you wanted to say?" Hiccup asked after a few seconds of increasingly uncomfortable silence.

"No. I... well something happened. Trista had a rather unusual last request." Stoick continued. "She wanted to have a private word with Dagur. I don't know what she told him but whatever it was made him very happy."