C is for Chief

The heir to Berk ran a shaking hand through his auburn hair, unable to process his father's request, unwilling to accept that this mountain of a man must be so close to death to even bring it up.

"I don't want to talk about this right now," he responded without answering. "You just need to focus on getting better and-"

"No, son. We both know there's a good chance that I won't recover from this one. Please, let me live to see you do your duty to Berk before I find peace in Valhalla."

"I'm...I'm not ready,"

Weak though he was, the chief propped himself up in the bed, an increducous expression on his face.

"Do you not love her?"

"Of course I love her," his son snapped back. "But the attacks have been coming more frequently, and Berk will need me here and focused instead of off honeymooning if you..."

The young man's voice caught in his throat, but after a moment he pressed on without looking at his father directly.

"You've prepared me well, and I'm not afraid to take on the mantle of chief when you're gone. But the idea of marrying...of becoming a father...I never thought I'd have to do that while these dragons continue to destroy our village week after week."

"Stoick."

Reluctantly, the young heir met his father's sober stare.

"Listen to me. I have married and sired children despite dragonfire, and never once regretted having a family. Not even when we lost your brothers and sister to this war. Perilous times should teach you only one thing-- there is no time to procrastinate what's truly important."

Stoick frowned. "Nothing could be more important than finding the Nest and ending this war for good. Valka and I...we know that. "

"If that's really what you think, Stoick, then you're a bigger fool than I thought. Nothing is more important than being with the people you love, my son. Especially not dragons and death."

For a while, Stoick was speechless. Then he sighed heavily.

"I guess you really are dying, old man. I always thought you didn't approve of my feelings for Valka, and now suddenly you're so sentimental..."

With a small frown. "I've never disliked the lass, but even you have to admit that her ideas ARE a little odd sometimes. We Haddocks are traditional, and she...well, she has her own mind. I suppose that's exactly why you love her, though."

"Aye," Stoick answered softly. "And she throws a mean right hook, too."

"Well, that settles it then. If we're both lucky she'll say yes and will bear you a son who will test you as much as you test me."

The chief laughed again at this joke, but mirth devolved into rasping coughs that wracked his entire body. Stoick leapt to his father's side. The fit lasted several minutes, and when it finally passed the chief seemed frailer than ever. When he was able to speak again, his words came out in a croaking whispher.

"I've taken the liberty of drafting an initial betrothal contract, which you'll find in the top drawer of my bedside table. Take it and go now."

"Wha- you want me to go right now?!?!"

Stoick found the folded parchment in the open drawer next to him. A quick scan revealed that it was, indeed, a very generous betrothal contract, written in the chief's shaky handwriting.

A unexpected yank on his beard turned Stoick's attention back to his father.

"Son, I would fight the gods themselves to have a moment with your mother again. Perhaps soon I will..." Stoick opened his mouth to protest again, but his father squeezed his hand to shut him up.

"The point is...if you cause me to miss one second with her in the afterlife because I have to haunt your ungrateful hide, you will regret it."

Stoick gulped and stumbled away from the bedside, clutching the betrothal contract in his large hand. "I'll...uh...be going then."

The dying chief watched as his son fled the room with a fond smile on his lips. His son was a mighty warrior, a worthy successor of to the legacy of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe, and a man who had been prepared since birth to be the chief of Berk. But only the dying wishes of his father and the threat of supernatural intervention could have ever pursuaded him to face his fear of familial commitment.

The gods have gifted him the desire and drive to be the last chief of Berk to wage war against the dragons, a dying father mused as he tried to settle his weary bones into a more comfortable position. Now if only they would grant him the courage to face the woman he loves!

-oOo-

Author's Note: We all know Hiccup is sensitive about inheriting the chiefdom so that would have been an obvious choice for this prompt, but since this series is all about experimentation and subverting expectations, I decided to go with Stoick instead!

For all of their differences, Hiccup and Stoick are DEFINITELY related, and love to compare/contrast the two. In any case, it was a fun exploration for me to write! Do you agree or disagree with Stoick's characterization in this chapter or have a letter/prompt idea? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the reviews. Until next time! -PP