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Rated: ASR · Draft · Fanfiction · #2266436
Guests are coming to Berk, Stoick is fussing, and Hiccup is {b}done.{/b}
“This is ridiculous.” Hiccup tossed his hands in the air, clearly overreacting about the clothes.

“You cannot look like you dressed from Gobber’s rag pile, son. We have visitors arriving, and you must appear dignified.” Stoick dug through his son’s wardrobe. “Are these the only trousers you own? We need to improve your wardrobe.”

His father fussed over clothes, and Hiccup looked longingly at Toothless. A flight looked good about now, maybe a daylong flight far from Berk. He did not want to invite repercussions, and judging by Stoick’s agitation over his outfit, they would be unpleasant.

“Dad, Bertha and Camikazi don’t care what I look like. I mean, Bertha doesn’t notice me anyway.”
Part of that was Bertha’s height. She was 6’ 4” tall: if Hiccup hadn’t been raised by Stoick the Vast, he’d have been too scared to leave the house. Hiccup saw her once wrestle a yak into submission. Bertha considered Hiccup a splinter, if she noticed him. “Camikazi brushes her hair twice a year, Dad. She’s going to knock me to the ground the second she arrives, then pin me down.” Camikazi was physical, and her flattening him was her saying hello. “I’ll be instantly dirty and have to listen to you tell me I need to make more of an effort.”

“Oh, I don’t do that. Have you polished your boot?” Stoick’s dismissal was typical, as if he’d never said those words before, or Hiccup had invented it.

“My boot is clean, believe me.” Polishing the leather upset his dragon, and Toothless licked it off, then barfed for hours.” You know I have to teach at the Academy, then go to work. If I wear this tunic now, it will get wrecked. Then you’ll lecture me on taking care of my clothes, again.”

“You can take time off from both of those. Your are the heir to Berk, and this comes first.” Once again, he didn’t have a choice.

“I get it, Dad.”

§ § §


Hiccup snatched an old outfit and changed in the smithy. He put the sword and shield pendant aside. His dad insisted on jewelry this time. Hiccup’s plan was to forget it—Camikazi saw weapons everywhere, and he had visions of her choking him with it before declaring herself the winner. Hiccup had little knowledge of fighting, so she always won. Then she’d yank him to his feet, and drag him along to find trouble.

Being her friend was work.

Astrid’s displeasure at the academy’s closing sent her into an axe-throwing frenzy, and Hiccup retreated to his job, completing everything he could before the Bog Burglars arrived. The Bog women came by the smithy and dumped their weapons on Gobber before leaning forward on the hatch and leering at him. They were powerful, often buxom women, and thinking of them and Gobber together…no. Just no.

Hiccup’s dragon Toothless nudged against him. The unholy offspring of lightning and death rarely went far from Hiccup, preferring to stick with his rider. Hiccup was the island’s loser, a talking fishbone with brains but no muscle, until Toothless fell into his life.
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