Work Text:
Stoick was pissed.
Viggo had the nerve to have his son hurt on top of slaughtering dragons. Did Stoick used to do the same? Yes, but he was ignorant, he didn't know peace like this was actually an option. The point is: Hiccup's hurt and he's going to try and run off to keep fighting Viggo if he can help it. So, Stoick's just making sure he can't help it.
He's not a bad guy for that, right? Of course not.
Stoick gently opens the door to Hiccup's hut as it stands in the cool, dark night of the village. The torch light from behind him casts a glow into the room, splaying across the room and Hiccup's sleeping form. He looked so peaceful in that moment, as if he hadn't almost died mere hours earlier. He had a small bandage on his cheek, the other was pressed into the pillow under his head, his arms wrapped around the blanket that draped over his sleepy form.
Stoick takes a deep breath before entering, the oak floor creaking under the weight of his first step. He approaches the bed, quiet for a man literally known for his "vastness". Stoick reaches for the edge of the blanket, uncovering his son's metal leg. He was about to reach for it but he stops when he hears a low growl from within the room.
It was Toothless, the ebony scaled creature barely seen in the dim light, it's eyes glowing bright in comparison.
"Shh..." Stoick whispered, "we both know him, he'll be gone by dawn if I don't" He wasn't exactly sure if the dragon could understand his words, but it certainly understood his pleading expression. Because it nodded its head and looked away with an understanding expression that simply said "Fair enough".
Stoick let out a sigh of relief, he felt strange enough doing this without the judgement of a winged reptile. Stoick finally grabbed the metal of Hiccup's leg, his other hand gently holding the flesh above the prosthetic before pulling it off with surprising ease. He sighed again before finally starting to retreat back outside.
As his hand touches the door handle, he freezes at the sound of a groggy, yet curious Hiccup. "Dad..?" He mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, "w-what are you doing?" Stoick turns and sees his son's confused and slightly irritated expression. Hiccup was always a bit annoyed when he was woken up, especially at this hour.
"I-.. I was just checking on ya, lad" Stoick lied through his teeth, hoping the boy wouldn't recognise his own leg in his father's hand. Hiccup scoffed out a chuckle. "I'm fine, Dad... you don't need to worry" He assured him, a gentle smirk on his lips, "I've been through worse" Stoick paused, then simply nodded and turned to the door again. "I know... get some rest, son" He smiled at him slightly, then he finally escaped the hut.
As Stoick shut the door, he couldn't help but let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding as he leant his forehead against the door. A frown pulled at his features.
He's been through worse. The words rung out in his head.
"Stoick?" The voice pulls him back out of his head, he recognised it. "Gobber? What are you doin' awake?" The vast man questioned, standing straight as he stepped towards the blonde viking. "Oh, you know... patrolling" Gobber shrugs, "gotta keep the village safe, you know how it goes" "Right..." Stoick mutters.
A comfortable pause falls between the two men.
"Stoick, I know yer worried about him, but he's grown now. He can handle a few scrapes" Gobber assures him, as if he could hear Stoick's internal thoughts. "I know..." Stoick runs a hand over his hair, starting to walk, Gobber follows, "but-... I'm his father, it's my job to worry about him, isn't it?" "Yes," Gobber replies simply, nodding as his wooden foot gently digs against the dirt path as he limps along, "but, you have to do more than that, right? You cannae just sit there on yer hands and fret"
The men eventually make their way to the village hall, empty at this time of night. The tall, stone structure towering over them, carvings of former chiefs embedded in the strong walls. The street torches cast a warm glow over the village, from this high on the hill, the lights almost resembled orange stars burning in Berk itself.
"Gobber..." The ginger starts, walking into the hall, the one legged viking follows, "when Hiccup woke up and saw me in his hut, I told him I was just checkin' on him. D'you know what he said to me?"
"Get off my ass?" Gobber hazards the guess. Its only recognition is an unimpressed glare from his chief.
"He told me, he's been through worse" Stoick admits, frowning gaze falling on the floor as he sits at an empty table, "as a comfort, Gobber, he said that to try and make me feel better." Gobber silently sits beside him, and remains that way for a moment. "And?" He simply replies, "he has, this isn't anything too new to him"
"Gobber, that isn't comforting" the chief huffs. "The truth often isn't" the blacksmith retorts wisely.
"When I hear that, it only reminds me of where I've failed as a father, failed to protect him. I have fallen short in so many ways: from Viggo, from losing his leg, from hatred of the entire village..." Stoick explains solemnly, "I-... I even hated him, at one point. And he knew it. His own father-" he huffs, running a hand down his face.
Gobber simply rests a hand on his shoulder, reminding him of his presence as well as a way of comfort. "He couldn't find value in himself so he had to find it in a dragon. Because that's what we taught him, what I taught him" he continues, voice hurt, barely holding back restrained emotions: guilt, anger at himself, and sadness for Hiccup. "People often don't find value in themselves, they find it in... friends, titles, jobs" Gobber reminds him, "Hell- you were the same, first it was Valka, then being a chief, now in Hiccup and Valka"
"Well, more just Hiccup since Valka's a bit-" Gobber pauses, glancing at Stoick for a moment.
"Dead?" "Yeah, she's a bit dead, innit?" "Yeah, obviously, ya twit"
"Anyway- my point is:" Gobber continues, "you did yer best. All you can do now is move on, and strive to be the best from now on." "Move on, eh?" Stoick replies, looking down at the metal prosthetic in his hand, looking over the mechanism.
A snort from his right pulls him from his thoughts. "Im- I'm not even gonna question it" Gobber states, holding his hands up in surrender, holding back laughter. "Hold on now- this looks a bit-" Stoick starts. "It looks weird Stoick! Why do you have the lad's leg!?" Gobber finally asks, sounding playfully shocked and vaguely concerned, a smile on his face. "Just- hear me out for a moment-" Stoick starts again. "I don't wanna know!" Gobber announces. "Liar, of course ya do" He retorts, smirking, "you know him as well as I do. He'll fly off on Toothless by daybreak if he can help it, so..."
"So you took his leg!" Gobber exclaims. "Yes- shut up, don't judge. You've done weirder!" The ginger defends with a chuckle. The two men laugh for a moment.
"Oi, gi's it to me for a moment" Gobber finally requests. "No" Stoick immediately replies, "you'll break it, I know what you want to do" "Wha- oi! I'm not that fat and I'll only wear it for a moment!" Gobber defends, feigning offence. "not that fat? Really, Gobber?" The chief gives the man a grin and a scrutinising look. "Alright, Stoick The Vast" Gobber retorts, rolling his eyes as he nudges him with his arm. "Yeah- I'm Stoick the Vast and you should be called Gobber the Vaster,, ya fat bastard" Both men burst into laughter at that.
"Oi!" Gobber protests, through cackles, "that's- oh you bloody eejit-" Stoick simply laughs at that.
Moments like these are exactly why he enjoys calling Gobber his best friend, how a moment so personal can turn into this.