The Blacksmith's Apprentice

Thirty-Three: Plans

Thirty-Three: Plans

Stoick had yelled at the twins and told them to go and get cleaned up and reunited with their family and had then stomped off. He was clearly concerned that someone had helped Mildew escape and through the evil old man was almost certainly on his way to Outcast Island, his liberator was probably still on Berk. And though Stoick knew there was opposition to his decision to allow the dragons to help Berk, the fact that people were willing to ally with a traitor was a bitter blow. Throughout his life, Stoick had dedicated his entire being to the welfare of Berk. He had prioritised the villagers above his family and especially above his son: his desire to protect his people and provide what he considered a suitable heir had caused him to disown and reject his own son. He paused and glanced back at the tall, lean shape, leaning close to the black dragon, a smile lighting his features. Hiccup was a remarkable young man-not a Viking but a Hooligan to the core. He would do what he needed to protect the Tribe and the girl he loved.

But there were people in the tribe who eyed the young man with hostility, men who muttered about treason and who stopped speaking when the Chief came within earshot. And for the first time, Stoick was scared of his people-not for himself but for his son. Hiccup had done something...amazing. Notwithstanding his astonishing feats in defeating Snotlout and Thuggory, his courage in facing the village with his dragon and his daring offer to protect the village...because he believed it was the right thing to do.

And he had ridden on a dragon! Now that had been the most amazing, incredible and frankly disorientating experience of his life...because he was Chief Stoick the Vast of Berk, a premier dragon killer and a man who had never wavered in his convictions. Well, he was wavering now...not in his belief dragons had taken his wife, Valka, when Hiccup was only a few months old or that those responsible should pay...but maybe...not all dragons deserved to die. Maybe...and he doubted his own senses as he thought it...maybe some dragons were not dangerous and could be...allies.

He blinked and shook his head. A few months ago, he would have condemned his son without a thought, automatically believing the worst of the stubborn, brave, determined young man instead of listening to him. Hiccup had endured everything with remarkable bravery and a lot of sarcasm and when he could have gone, he chose to stay. He shook his head. One thing was for certain: the Tribe was divided and Stoick would need all his years of strength of character, diplomacy and old-fashioned shouting to ensure that they remained under his control. And as he thought it, his eyes slid down to the brooding, discontent shape of his brother and he sighed.

He would have to watch his brother closely-because he couldn't trust that he wouldn't try to kill his son. Pausing for a long moment-until Spitelout turned away-Stoick resumed his trudge down the village, silently wondering if Gobber still had his stash of mead in the forge...

oOo

"Do you think they'll come round tonight and demand we train them a dragon?"

Hiccup was parked by the fire, staring into the flames with Toothless at his back and Astrid at his side. He aimlessly toyed with a bowl of stew and Astrid watched him with a small smile on her lips.

"I didn't make it-if that's what you're worried about..." she teased him gently and he started, eyes widening.

"I-I wasn't...if that's what you're..." he mumbled but she grinned broadly.

"Sometimes, you're easy to tease, babe," she smirked. "Look-the twins will be with their family and I can't see their parents letting them out of their sight anytime soon. I mean-they were exiled on Eel Island for almost three months in all and I'm sure they'll want a good meal, a warm bath and a comfortable bed..."