Chapter Text
“Stoick, I know you miss Valka but-” Gobber’s attempts at pacification are demolished when Stoick turns to him, a look he hasn’t seen on his friend since he first met him, when Stoick had believed Gobber to be flirting with his wife.
“Don’t. Don’t say her name.”
Nobody had been expecting Stoick to take the loss well, Valka was an odd woman at times yes, but they had only just had their son two months ago, nobody believed Hiccup to survive even an hour let alone two months. The grief they were put through in believing their son was born to die had only just begun to settle and now? Now Valka is gone. Stoick was widowed and a single father just like that.
The dragon that had carried the chieftess off wasn’t one anyone from berk had ever seen, Gobber hadn’t gotten a good look at it himself but he’d heard whispers of it having four wings. What an odd thing?
Currently Gobber is standing on the dock, Stoick and a few other men lug bags onto the ship, Stoick’s preparing for a voyage he’s convinced he can find Valka, or at least what remains of her. It’s a futile attempt fueled by grief and it’s a sorry sight. But Stoick is their chief and no one will tell him that- no one except for someone who knew Stoick well before he was a chief. Someone who knows the man behind the mask. Someone like Gobber.
“This is a fool's errand and you know it, Stoick. Think of Hiccup? He’s just lost his mom and now you want to leave for Thor knows how long?” That gives Stoick pause but only for a brief moment, "There are plenty of women to mind him.”
This frustrates Gobber to no end, Stoick is grieving he knows. He is grieving because he himself had been good friends with Valka and this? This is not what she would want.
Stoick finally chances a look at him, “Where’s your armor?”
“I’m not coming with you”
“Gobber-” Stoick doesn't have a chance to argue, “I’ll stay and look after Hiccup.”
Stoick opens his mouth to say something, likely more arguing before closing it and giving Gobber a hard look, as if he’s just been betrayed. But Gobber doesn’t stick around to let the conversation continue. Stoick always has been as stubborn as a mule and he knows he’ll never change his mind.
So he trudges up the many bridges leading from the docks and back up to the village, making his way to the Jorgenson house. He knows that’s where Stoick would’ve taken Hiccup. Spitelout, Valka’s elder brother, had only recently had a son of his own with his wife Thyra, Snotlout they’d called the infant.
It would make sense to bring Hiccup there, Spitelout is family. Even though he is undoubtedly also broken up over Valka’s passing.
He knocks his hook against the door and it opens to show a very tired looking Thyra, “Aye, how’s the day been treatin ya?” Thyra sighs heavily, turning to trudge over to a chair, she’d only given birth to Snotlout about 3 weeks ago.
“As well as it can be I suppose.” She sighs out looking at the two babes who lie in the cradle, it's a rather big one, meant to grow with the infant and currently both babes fit in it, even if Hiccup is alarmingly smaller then his nearly month old younger cousin.
“Well I’ve come to take Hiccup off yer hands.” Thyra perks her head up, “You’re not going with the chief?” Gobber shakes his head, “Not this time no.” He carefully picks the infant up using his good hand.
“I’ll get his cradle from Stoick’s and put it up in the forge loft with me for now.” She nods, not looking over. He can only imagine how she must feel, her and Valka were close, they were sister in laws afterall, and had gotten pregnant at relatively the same time. Had had plans of their children becoming good friends.
Maybe the latter can still happen.
After a bit of maneuvering and interchanging his hand he manages to get both Hiccup and the cradle to the forge. It’s light and easily transportable. He can surely move it from his living space to his workspace with relative ease, it’s just harder whilst also carrying the fragile babe.
Hiccup is still alarmingly small, and his premature birth is still painfully obvious but checks to be sure he’s still breathing in the night are no longer necessary. Gothi had said the baby was making a recovery. Gobber can only pray to the gods; it stays that way. The absolute last thing they need right after losing their chieftess is to lose the one and only heir.
﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏﹏﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏﹏﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏﹏﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏﹏﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏﹏𓊝
There is no sign of the chief nor his party for 4 months. In this time Gobber has spent it all with Hiccup, who is still small for a now 6 month old but proving to be very curious. He puts everything in his mouth if he can get his hands on it, Gobbers had to start locking up things and triple checking that none of it is on the ground where Hiccup has begun to try and inch towards, he’s nearing that age where he’ll begin to crawl and Gobber can only pray for when that happens. It’ll be impossible to keep him away from all the dangerous objects the forge inhabits, and big, curious green eyes are already looking at anything and everything in his field of vision, which has greatly expanded now that he’s learned to roll.
“Alright lad, let’s make a deal eh?”
He crouches down next to the babe who's currently trying and failing to reach for his hook, “No more grabbing at my stuff? And I’ll get ya some of that mashed banana you like from Mrs. Hofferson?”
Mrs. Hofferson had recently had another baby of whom she called Astrid, the Hoffersons have nearly 6 kids now and the matriarch has been sharing her baby food recipes, Hiccups getting older now and doesn’t like his milk as much so Gobber gave it a try, the infant seemed to really like the banana’s.
Hiccup of course not understanding a lick of what Gobber just said simply giggled, he’d been doing that a lot ever since he learned he could move his mouth and sound would come out, it’s been non-stop screaming and cooing from Hiccup just because he now knows he can vocalize on command.
People often say children don’t fully develop a personality until around the age of 4 or 5, but Hiccup is as stubborn as his father if his constant attempts to crawl when his little body clearly isn’t strong enough are anything to go by. Everytime he’s placed on the ground he rolls to his stomach and tries going for anything in his sight line. Lately it’s been the weapons rack, which Gobber has had to temporarily place on top of his welding bench to keep out of eyesight of Hiccup.
It’s hard to keep him distracted with something else once he sets his little eyes on something he deems worth touching and inevitably trying to put in his mouth.
Gobber was just about to grab a rattle he’d made for Hiccup shortly after the infant had moved in with him when he hears the horns sounding the chief's return.
He should feel overjoyed, Stoick was back. The village would return to normal and Hiccup would go home. But he felt a bit of dread in the pit of his stomach. As selfish as he feels for admitting it he has grown fond of always having Hiccup around.
Even going out of his way to talk to Hiccup about whatever he’s working on even when he usually just gets coos or silence back. He’s gotten attached to him and isn’t quite ready for him to leave.
But it isn’t up to Gobber. Stoick is back, Hiccup's father is back…because as much as it pains him he isn’t Hiccup's father. Stoick is.
It is with a heavy heart that he scoops the babbling infant up and carries him down to the docks, Hiccup occupies himself with tugging at Gobbers moustache, something he often likes to play with when being held by the blacksmith.
Stoick looks relatively the same, more weary, older. He looks at Gobber but his eyes fit to the older looking baby. A man doesn’t change much in 4 months. But an infant? When Stoick last saw Hiccup he couldn’t even lift his own head, let alone curiously look at all the new surroundings (Gobber hasn’t brought him down the dock before, there was never a reason.) Hiccup doesn’t give Stoick more than a brief glance to busy trying to stare at the seagulls above, tilting his little head back to try and follow them as they fly past.
However the happy father son reunion Gobber was dreading- no expecting never comes. Stoick walks right past.
His eyes follow the chief as he walks right by and over to the cargo hold, before he turns to Hoark a warrior who had gone with him, “Where here for supplies…Stoicks not giving up.” Gobber hates himself for the weight that lifts off him. Stoick is clearly stuck in a cycle of grief. His best friend is stuck in a cycle of grief but all he can think about is Stoick leaving again means Hiccup stays with him and things go back to their normal.
Should he chance a talk with Stoick? If he can talk him out of it…it would mean Hiccup going home but. He knows he can’t be selfish like this. It would be best for Hiccup to go with his father.
He makes his way to Stoick, still keeping Hiccup on his side as the boy's little arms hold onto his shoulder for a vision of support, “Stoick, you looked. It’s time to come back.”
Stoick tenses and doesn’t even turn to look at him or Hiccup, “We checked the West. The East is next.” Gobber sighs, “And then what? The North? The South?” He says exasperated, “If I have to? Yes.” Gobber looks down at Hiccup who couldn’t care less about the men's exchange and is much too busy figuring out what the band in Gobbers moustache is and why it snaps back every time he pulls it.
“Hiccups gettin bigger ya know? I’m thinkin he’ll start to crawl soon.” Stoick sighs deeply at Gobber's attempt, “We leave in two days. I have a council to attend with the elders." That's all he spares before brushing past.
And Gobber is left standing on the dock but this time he’s not alone. This time he’s got Hiccup.