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Stoick calls him into his office, and Hiccup forgets how to breathe.
It's something bad, he knows it. It's going to be something bad. Good things come in the living room, in his bedroom, in places not stained with the ghosts of those who died because of a bad decision made in them.
No, the only question is what fresh hell will come out of his father's mouth. Toothless is where his mind goes first, but he discards that: surely, having saved the island innumerable times, he's proven himself enough? Mildew is gone for good, can't touch them anymore, and there are no crowds for an imitator to whip up.
He's still young, and he's the heir. Gods -- is his father dying? Is this preparation for that? That would mean a long conversation with Fishlegs. Heirs don't come from prayers and kisses, and Berk needs one. Otherwise the only hope is Snotlout, and Hiccup's eyebrows raise even thinking about that.
All this flashes through his mind in the time it takes to walk the seven paces to the office and sit in the chair placed before his father's desk. It's smaller, deliberately, than Stoick's, so he has to look up at him. In the candlelight, his face is shrouded in shadow.
Stoick doesn't notice Hiccup is there for a good few seconds, apparently lost in thought, and it takes a quiet clearing of his throat for him to look up and see him. "Sorry, son. Didn't quite notice you there!" He chuckles. Hiccup doesn't.
"What's happened? Why do we need to have a secret meeting under cover of darkness?"
Stoick sighs. "It's not a secret meeting, son, it's just a private meeting."
"And the reason we need to have a private meeting is?"
Stoick sighs again, changes the subject. "I'm getting old, Hiccup. My beard is more grey than red now. I can't run like I used to. Even getting onto Thornado has become more of a struggle."
"So you want me to take over more of the duties of Chief? I can handle that. Let's make a list of tasks ordered by difficulty for you and ability to delegate, and I'll --" Hiccup is halfway out of his seat in search for some charcoal and his notebook, and it takes a cough from his father to get him back down.
"No, Hiccup. That's not my point. My point is... you're going to be Chief soon. I can tell I don't have long left. Especially if Mulch and Bucket keep up with their antics, I'll be in the grave by noon!" He chuckles again. Hiccup shifts uncomfortably in his seat. This is building to something, something other than 'be ready'.
"And so... when that happens... Berk will need an heir. And you will need a wife."
And that is it. That is the rude awakening that the room filled with ghosts was made for. It is inevitable, but it still catches Hiccup unaware.
In a single second, he realises every reason he has kept Fishlegs a secret is true.
"Who?" is the first word out of his mouth. "Do you have a match in mind?" If he understands the situation, he can try to fix it.
Stoick gives him a 'be serious' look. "The Hofferson clan have offered Astrid's hand in marriage, and I believe she would be suitable. A stronger alliance with the Hoffersons would be extremely beneficial to our island --"
"No," Hiccup whispers. The word slips out before he's even aware of it.
"Son... this is a done deal. You can't back out."
"Of course I can't back out! I didn't make the deal!" Hiccup stands, slamming his hands on the table, and he may not be particularly tall or scary but in that moment Stoick feels a chill, a feeling, a flashback to another angry boy on that side of the table. "Father, you -- has anyone even asked Astrid what she wants?"
"She would be the wife of a chief," Stoick replies, repeating the same canned line they've always used. "Her mother assured me she will be just fine with this arrangement."
"Her mother -- ugh," Hiccup says, almost falling back into his chair. Stoick can practically see every word he thinks written across his face: how it's not fair. How he's too young. How there are other people he wants to marry. "Astrid hasn't even been asked about this, has she?"
"That's her mother's responsibility, not mine, and you know it."
"No I don't. I don't know anything about this, because you never told me."
Hiccup is acting like a petulant child, but Stoick can't blame him. He should have told Hiccup, should have trained him for this. Should have arranged the marriage a long time ago.
But he knows the way Hiccup looks at Astrid is the way he used to look at Valka, and he knows the story of Leif Thorston, and he knows that Hiccup disappears into Fishlegs's bedroom 'just to talk' and doesn't come back for hours, and he knows a thing or two about forbidden love.
So sue him for wanting to let his son love for a little longer.
He doesn't say this. Instead, he says "I'm sorry, son. I should have told you earlier. And not like this."
Hiccup doesn't respond. He's shut down completely, Stoick can tell, calculating in his head. "And what if I say no? Hypothetically. What happens if I don't marry her?"
Stoick shrugs. "Berk is without an heir. We are vulnerable. When you die, there could be a battle for the throne -- other islands could try to lay claim to it because of intermarriage. Everything becomes much more complicated. And... you'd have to tell me why."
"Is that last bit in the rules?"
"No, but I would like to understand why you wouldn't." It feels like a trap, like he's playing some sort of mind game with his son. He's pretty sure Hiccup will win. He's always been smart.
Hiccup opens his mouth, fire burning up behind his eyes in a way that screams danger for them both, and Stoick panics.
"But before you do, I would like to tell you a story." From now, Stoick can only speak in code: in stories and half-truths and words that aren't do you love him? just like his father before him, at this very same table, thirty, forty years ago.
"What story?"
So Stoick tells him of Leif Thorston, what actually happened to him, why he left, and he pretends he can't see the sparks of recognition and fear in his son's eyes. Hiccup is trembling in a way he only does when someone yells (usually Stoick, usually for the wrong reasons) but Stoick is practically whispering.
"A Chief's choices must reflect their people," Stoick finishes. "He couldn't have made another decision." If they decide to reject you, there is nothing I can do.
He only hopes Hiccup understands, and doesn't tell him anything he will regret.
Hiccup drops it. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay as in, if Astrid says yes, then I'll marry her." His voice is small, and thin, and halfway broken, and Stoick can't even name why without putting them both in danger.
(He thinks of a stupid, childish crush on a blacksmith with two prosthetics, and sighs.)
"Is that all, or can I..?"
Stoick knows exactly where he's going.
"Go, son."
Hiccup nods briefly, not meeting Stoick's eyes, and turns on his heel to leave.