The Change had come suddenly to Hiccup, just as everything else seemed to: the way that he had gone from social reject to the hero of Berk in the space of a few days, for example. One day he had been the awkward boy that the whole village had grown to love as a result of his astounding heroics, the next he was sprinting through the forest towards Gobber's workshop, bursting through the doors, howling in a voice that was not his and begging his old mentor to explain what, in the name of Thor, had happened to him during the night.
"That's fer yer father to explain," Gobber had muttered cryptically. And as Stoick deliberated, feeling like a stranger inside his own house, the Viking chieftain silently cursed Gobber for the way that his old friend had managed to single-handedly drop him in one of the most awkward situations possible without even the slightest hint of warning. Eventually he mustered up the courage to raise one meaty fist and knock sharply on his son's door. Twice. Once, as he had intended, with his hand, and then an accidental second time as his forehead came crashing down against the wood in sudden exasperation.
"Come in," came the despondent voice from within – Stoick could not yet think of it as Hiccup's voice. He was sure that he would get used to it eventually, but for the time being it was too strange a thought to fully contemplate. Stoick opened the door with an uncustomary tentativeness, and forced a smile in his son's direction. He was relieved to see that Hiccup looked the same: that meant that The Change had not yet taken hold completely. Perhaps he still had enough time to explain. Who knew, perhaps he could even find a way to prevent it, to stop his boy from shifting from the gangly klutz he had come to love into something far more…Vikinglike. Stoick shook his head sadly. To think that, if The Change had come just a few months ago, he would have revelled in the thought that his son had the chance to fit in with the rest of the village at last. To think that this had once been both his and Hiccup's greatest wish… Wasn't it funny how dramatically one's opinion could change in such a short time? Now, all that Stoick wanted was for his son to stay as he was, just for a little longer, just so that he had the time to really get to know the boy before he became a man. Admittedly, they still didn't have very much in common, but Hiccup was slowly teaching his father the ways of the dragons, which was something that Stoick enjoyed learning about far more than he would care to let on.
Oblivious to the turmoil his father was feeling, Hiccup was sitting on the floor, his head resting gently against that of his dragon, who was curled up beside him and purring contentedly. Not for the first time, Stoick stood astounded by the strength of the friendship emanating from two beings who were so vastly different. Clearing his throat in embarrassment, he found an overturned stool amid the wreckage that Toothless was prone to creating, flipped it over and sat down facing his son. The seat groaned under the weight of the Viking chieftain, but he took no notice. Right now, his thoughts were solely focused on Hiccup.
"We need to talk," Stoick said with an enormous sigh. "About" – here he gestured vaguely to the whole of his son's body, as people had done so many times in the past – "this."
Hiccup didn't even bother with his usual petulant response of "You just gestured to all of me!" Instead, he shifted himself away from the comforting warmth of Toothless and raised a cynical eyebrow in his father's direction. The eyebrow was accompanied by a glare, Hiccup's green eyes burning into Stoick's weather-hardened soul.
"You think I don' know tha'?" There it was, the voice, flowing from the boy's mouth despite the fact that it definitely did not belong there. Even Toothless, who was now dozing off and beginning to dream happy dragon dreams, pricked up his ears at the sound and snarled. No doubt he, too, was perplexed by the transformation in his master's tone. "Wha's happenin' to me, Dad?" Hiccup continued, the voice shaking in spite of its natural Northern bluster.
Stoick took a deep breath before answering. "Son, there comes a time when every Viking has to tell his children about The Change. For us, I'm afraid, that time has arrived. I understand that right now you're feelin'-" He sought for the right words to describe the thought process, but could not find them. Apprehension was not a word that was readily available in Stoick the Vast's vocabulary. "-well, a bit strange. But don' worry about it. I'm here, an' I'm goin' to do my best to explain everything." He cleared his throat again before beginning.
"The Change comes to every Viking eventually, usually durin' the teenage years. I don' honestly know if it's somethin' to do with Berk, or if it happens everywhere, but the fact is that it's started happenin' to you."
"What d'yer mean?" Hiccup asked fiercely. "Is tha' why I've got this voice? You mean it's gonna stay like this?"
"Aye," Stoick assented. "Didn' you ever wonder why all the kids in Berk had a different accent to all the adults? That's the firs' stage of The Change, Hiccup."
"The firs' stage…you mean there's more ter come?"
"I couldn' tell you that for certain. For some people, The Change stops with the voice. For others…well, if you look at me you'll get a fairly good idea of what it can do to yer."
Hiccup's eyes widened as he took in the full implication of his father's statement. "You mean…you mean I could start turnin' into somethin' tha' looks like you?"
Stoick turned red, more than a little self-conscious at the way that his son said this. The tone of voice he used made it sound like it was the worst thing that could possibly happen. "Well, don' talk about it like it's such a hardship!" Stoick exclaimed. Toothless raised his head sleepily at the booming sound, hissed slightly and abruptly drifted off to sleep again, his head landing back down on the floor with a small thud. "I'm not sayin' tha's what's going to happen to yer, all I'm sayin' is tha' there's a large chance that it might."
"An' the others…my friends" – the word still tasted strange in Hiccup's mouth after being unpopular and alone for so many years – "do they know abou' the Change too?"
So many questions, thought Stoick. Just like how I was at his age. "I don' know. You're not supposed to tell your kids abou' The Change until their voices start to alter, but I can now see from personal experience that the rules may need to be adapted to accommodate for…sudden cases such as yourself."
Hiccup took a deep breath. The discovery of The Change had seemed to unsettle him almost as much as the loss of his leg, and Stoick could only hope that with time his son would come to see the benefits that it brought. After all, hadn't this been what Hiccup had waited for year after year – becoming a real Viking. Yes, but he doesn't want that anymore, Stoick reminded himself with a glance at Toothless. He's found something far better.
"But jus' think!" he enthused, punching his son cheerily on the arm – maybe using a little too much force, he thought as he noticed Hiccup wince. "Your friends don' know abou' your new voice yet, right?" Hiccup nodded, rubbing his now-sore arm in the spot where his father had accidentally bruised it. "So how's abou' we play a few jokes on them?"
"Jokes?" Hiccup asked, the scepticism he felt towards this idea audible in his voice. "Wha' sor' of jokes?"
"I don' know! Sneakin' up on them an' using your voice to scare them, pretendin' to be me or Gobber, that sort of thing!"
Hiccup sat on the brink of indecision, unsure of whether to smile or not. Eventually, he opted for the former, and Stoick broke into a wide grin upon seeing a smiliar expression flash briefly across his son's face.
"An' I could get payback on Snoutlout and Tuffnut for all the times they played pranks on me during dragon trainin'!" Hiccup said, at last beginning to sound excited.
"Exactly," Stoick beamed. "You're goin' to be alright, son." He walked over to the table beside Hiccup's bed and gently picked up the breast-helmet that lay there, then bent down beside Hiccup and placed it ceremoniously on his son's head. "You're a real Viking now."
Hiccup smiled weakly. "Thanks, Dad." Was it Stoick's imagination, or was he already starting to get used to the thick Scotch accent that now coloured Hiccup's speech? Maybe, he thought with a smile, getting used to the Changed Hiccup wasn't going to be as hard as he had first thought.
And then, quite unexpectedly, Stoick the Vast pulled his son in for a rib-crushingly tight hug. For once, the gesture wasn't awkward, due to the spontaneity with which it had taken place. He held Hiccup tightly to his chest for a while, but upon hearing the boy gasp for air, the chieftain of Berk released his hold slightly, and Hiccup sat back down beside the slumbering Toothless and grinned queasily at his father. "I'll be okay, Dad, really. This'll take some gettin' used to, but I'll be okay."
Stoick smiled back. "I know you will, son." He moved in to sit between the boy and the dragon and whispered conspiratorially in Hiccup's ear. "Now, let's go have some fun."