How to Train Your Dragon 1. Sleep

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

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**sleep headcanon: Before Valka was taken, she used to get so paranoid about what might happen if baby Hiccup stopped breathing in the middle of the night, so she used to tuck him in between herself and Stoick. After she was taken, Stoick used to do the same, partially to watch over his son and partially just to have the company. When he grew up, Hiccup preferred sharing a bed over sleeping alone.**

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Stoick set his helmet down carefully and tiptoed over to the cradle. "Hello, little one," he whispered, kneeling down beside his sleeping son. Hiccup, just a few days shy of his first birthday, was fast asleep, small fists clenched beside his round cheeks. Stoick ran a gentle hand over Hiccup's soft hair. He'd been born with a faint dusting of red hair, like his, but now that he was a little older it was growing in thick and dark brown, with the softest tint of red- like his mother's.

Stoick adjusted the blanket around the baby and stood up slowly. He prepared to go to bed himself, hanging up his cloak and his armor, but before he blew out the candle he looked back at the cradle.

"Might as well," he said to himself, and he carefully lifted the baby in his arms. Hiccup roused a little, squinching up his small face. "Now, now, none of that, little one."

Stoick laid down on the bed, setting his baby son down beside him, and blew out the candle. Hiccup settled down easily beside Stoick, his thumb finding his way to his mouth. Stoick watched him for a bit, eyeing the tiny rise and fall of his chest, and allowed himself to doze off.

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_twenty years later_

"Hiccup," Astrid whispered. She shifted her shoulder, rubbing against his cheek. "Hiccup."

The newly appointed chief of Berk slept on, his mouth open and drooling slightly. Hiccup snored with his cheek pressed to the crook of her neck, his arms tucked tight against his chest. "Babe," she said, a little louder. "Babe, it's time to get up."

He roused a little, nuzzling further against her shoulder. "Can't," he mumbled.

Astrid sighed. "Well, I have to get up, at least," she said.

"Can't," he said. "'m cold."

For emphasis he burrowed closer, snuggling his head against her collarbone and tucking under her chin. Astrid smoothed his untidy hair. "You're always cold," she said.

"You're warm. Stay."

Astrid played with his hair, untangling the knots he'd gathered overnight. She liked Hiccup like this, with his thick drawling just-woken-up voice and his soft heavy weight against her. But she'd never tell him that. "Fine," she said gently, her fingertips stroking the soft skin at the nape of his neck. "Ten more minutes."

He kissed her collarbone in drowsy gratitude and sank back into sleep. Astrid kept playing with his hair as she counted the freckles on his shoulders, and if she let him sleep for thirty minutes instead of ten...he didn't exactly need to know that.

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**Author's Notes:**

Hark! A drabble series!

I've gone for so long without writing that it honestly feels like muscles have atrophied. So I'm doing this drabble series to sort of help me along while I develop followup chapters to my previous oneshots. These are all going to stick pretty closely to canon, and I've written about eight of the fifteen so far. There's also a good chance that I'm going to do a modern Hiccstrid series and an Elsa series with the same prompts when this one is done!

But yes, if you've read some of my other HTTYD works, I'm developing a bunch of things. There's going to be at least two more chapters of "Like Real People Do" (all sorts of shenanigans with Anna and Elsa and Kristoff, and then the wedding), at LEAST one more chapter of "Haunt Me in Colors I've Never Seen" (Astrid meeting Stoick when she goes to see Hiccup HAS to happen), and at least one more chapter of "The Mermaid and the Dragon" (because I really want to see the two of them adjusting to life as adorable humans). And then beyond that, I've gotten an adorable prompt for Hiccup and Astrid being costars in the school play (I'VE PICKED THE PLAY AND THEY'RE GOING TO BE SO CUTE OH MY _GOD _also I'm making a cameo and it's going to be great) and I'm seriously considering a story about what would happened if Valka had never been taken in the first place. So yeah.

But please, if you don't mind leaving a review? It would really mean a lot. Over the past few years my self-esteem has plummeted while my anxiety has skyrocketed, which is a pretty crappy combination. And if you look at the post dates of my other stories you can see it's been a while since I've written anything- it's been a really shitty couple of years. A kind message would really mean a lot.

And as always, my askbox on tumblr is always open! It's themetaphorgirl, if you'd like to pop by.

**Next chapter: sad headcanon**


	2. Sad

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

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**\- sad headcanon: Hiccup wants to know about his mother and doesn't exactly know who to ask about it.**

Stoick was really, really hoping that this was a conversation he didn't need to have until Hiccup was older. At least five. Maybe older. Maybe never, if he was lucky.

But no, his three-year-old son tugged on the end of his beard and looked up at him with questions in his green eyes. "Daddy," he said. "Where's my mommy?"

Stoick felt his heart sink to the floor. "What do you mean, my boy?" he asked, trying to make it sound like a joke. Maybe he could distract him, change the subject. Hiccup was smart, but toddlers could be outwitted.

"He has a mommy," Hiccup said, pointing to the Jorgensons across the great hall. Their youngest son was sitting on his mother's lap, stealing bites from his father's plate.

"They has a mommy." The Thorston twins, squabbling over a toy while their parents separated them easily.

"She has a mommy." The Hoffersons' girl, dainty in comparison to her big brothers, struggling to heft the handle of her mother's ax and making her parents laugh.

Hiccup turned to look up at Stoick, leaning on his knee. "Where's my mommy?" he asked, perplexed.

Stoick's heart ached. There was no sadness yet in Hiccup's voice, just the confused frustration of _everyone else has one, where's mine?_

Stoick picked Hiccup up and set him on his knee. "You haven't got one," he said quietly. Hiccup frowned him. "Your mommy...is in Valhalla. With the gods and goddesses."

"When is she coming back?" Hiccup asked, his small fingers tangling in Stoick's beard.

Stoick couldn't look at him. "She's not coming back, son," he said. "Your mother died when you were just a baby, protecting you from a dragon."

Hiccup's small fingers stilled. "Mommy died?" he repeated.

"Aye, son," Stoick said.

Hiccup's mouth trembled. "But it's not fair," he said. "Everybody else got one." A tear trickled down his round freckled cheek. "I want mine. I want my mommy."

Stoick couldn't speak. He hugged Hiccup to his chest, shushing him gently as he started to cry in earnest. "I know, Hiccup," he said. "I want her too." He sighed. "I want her too."

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_four years later_

"What's got you so quiet?" Gobber asked his little apprentice. "Usually I can't get you to stop talking."

Hiccup frowned as he dragged the whetstone over the small blade he was sharpening. "My dad yelled at me this morning 'cause I spilled my milk," he said. "And then he hugged me and walked away. It was weird."

"Of course he's acting odd, it's your mother's birthday," Gobber said as he stoked the fire. The rasp of the whetstone halted and he turned around to see Hiccup staring at him blankly. "What? Didn't you know?"

"No," Hiccup said in a small voice.

Gobber put down the bellows and sighed heavily. Of course Stoick hadn't said a word about it to the boy. "Well, it is," he said. "She'd be...well, she'd be twenty-seven today."

Hiccup fidgeted. "What was she like?" he asked.

"Who?"

"My mom."

Gobber picked up a sword in need of a new handle. "Can't you ask your father? about that" he said.

"I tried when I was little," the seven-year-old said, digging the toe of his boot into the floor. "He never says anything."

Gobber set the sword down. Hiccup deserved to know at least something about Valka, and if Stoick wasn't going to say anything, he supposed it was up to him. "She was tall," he said at last. "Tallest girl in Berk. But thin. Birdboned, like you."

"Was she beautiful?" Hiccup asked.

Gobber hesitated. By Berk standards, a beautiful woman was muscular and blonde and round-cheeked. That didn't necessarily describe Valka, who had been slender and dark-haired with cheekbones that could cut glass. But Stoick thought she was beautiful. Couldn't get him to shut up about it in their courting days, in fact.

He looked down at Hiccup, who was still gazing up at him in hopeful expectation. "She was lovely," he said firmly, because every child should be allowed to think their mother is the most beautiful person in the world, and Hiccup grinned, showing off his newest gap from a lost tooth. The smile faded quickly though, into a pensive frown. "What is it now, lad?"

"Was my mom a good fighter?" he asked. "Like Dad?"

"Well," Gobber said slowly. How was he supposed to explain Valka's incessant arguments about dragons? Stoick would have his head if he put those thoughts in his son's brain. "I wouldn't say good. She was...all right. Fair at swordplay, passable with an ax, an impressive shot with archery. But nothing to write home about."

"Oh," Hiccup said, looking down at his small freckled hands, and with a start Gobber realized that he recognized what the child was hoping for.

"You're like her, you know," he said. "Take after her more than your dad, I'd say. She was clever too. And kind."

Hiccup smiled at that, one corner if his mouth turning up more than the other, but he still didn't look up. Gobber ruffled his hair. "Now, if we've gotten all that straightened out-"

"Gobber?"

He barely suppressed an exasperated sigh. "What's your question now, lad?"

Hiccup chewed on his knuckle, averting his gaze. "Well...I was wondering..."

"Stop hemming and hawwing, Hiccup," Gobber said impatiently. "Thor knows nothing's ever stopped you from asking a question before, you might as well be out with it."

"Did my mom love me?"

Gobber stopped. This was a question he knew he could answer.

"Your mother loved you, Hiccup," he said. "She did. You were the apple of her eye."

He wasn't exactly a member of the Haddock family, but he might as well have been. He'd coached Stoick when he was courting Valka. He'd been the witness to their wedding. He'd rejoiced with them when they found out she was with child and mourned with them when those babies were lost. And he still remembered Valka when she was pregnant with Hiccup, how she would cup her hands around her round belly and say sweet things to the child inside, how she fought tooth and nail to bring him into the world, how she carried him close to her heart to the point that Stoick had to argue for a chance to hold him.

How she died protecting her son.

Gobber crouched down to look Hiccup in the eye. "She loved you," he repeated, and Hiccup nodded, his mouth pulled into a thin line and his eyes watering as he manfully tried to keep from crying. He looked so small and so lost that Gobber unexpectedly had to fight a lump in his throat.

"Now, none of that," he said, standing up a little too quickly and clearing his throat. "Why don't you just...you run along and play. You're just a little mite and you've done enough work for now. You and the Ingerman lad can go catch tadpoles, or whatever it is children do."

Hiccup nodded, untying his leather apron and hanging it on the hook before walking out of the forge, still knuckling his eyes. Gobber coughed a few times, trying to shake off the unusual emotion settling in his chest.

"Stoick should be doing this part," he muttered to himself, and he pulled out a badly damaged ax and tossed it on his anvil. "He really should."

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**Author's Notes:**

Oh, man.

Initially this was only the first part. I was posting it on Tumblr and then had a brainstorm and then OOPS MY FINGERS SLIPPED and the Gobber scene happened. Honestly, I wrote a lot of it at work while I was walking around backstage. On my phone. On my notes app. THAT'S DEDICATION, Y'ALL.

I just firmly believe that Hiccup grew up constantly wondering about what his mother was like. Stoick couldn't bear to talk about her, so every so often, maybe like twice a year, Hiccup would ask Gobber to tell him something he remembered about his mother. Because of course Gobber remembers. Gobber is pretty much a member of the family. And in particular, as Hiccup grew older and odder in comparison to the other people in Berk, he would imagine that his mother was odd like him, and that's where he got it.

(AND THE THING IS HE'S RIGHT. HE TAKES AFTER HIS MAMA. SOMEONE HOLD ME WHILE I CRY.)

But when Hiccup was very, very small, he used to hope his mother would come back. And for a little extra sadness: all the toddlers usually got dumped together in the same playpen to be babysat while the parents were off doing Viking things. Hiccup realized that if the other kids started crying for their mothers, the mothers came for them. One day he was the last child there, and he started quietly calling "Mommy?" just to see what might happen.

She never showed up. He didn't do it again.

WHY DO I WRITE SAD THINGS.

Anyways, thank you so much for the sweet messages, not only here but also on my other stories and my tumblr as well! I really appreciate you guys and your feedback. :)

**Next chapter: happy headcanon**


	3. Happy

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

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**happy headcanon: Hiccup is ticklish. Extremely ticklish.**

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Astrid sulked, crossing her arms and glaring at Hiccup from across the table. He didn't even notice her. He was completely absorbed in his book, flipping through pages and copying things down on a scrap piece of paper. It didn't matter what she said, or shouted, or poked, he didn't seem to even know she was there.

"Fine, then, I'm just going to go flying without you," she grumbled, sliding lower in her seat, but she made no move to get up.

A large hand patted her on the shoulder and she looked up to see Stoick. "He's a bit distracted today, isn't he?" he said.

"Just a bit," Astrid said. Hiccup frowned at his paper and rubbed his nose, leaving a smear of charcoal across the bridge. She couldn't decide if she wanted to kiss him for being so cute, or punch him for being so oblivious.

"He gets like that," Stoick said. "Thinks too much and gets a little lost."

Astrid grunted in reply. Stoick leaned down. "There is one way to get his attention," he whispered. "He's a bit ticklish." Astrid tilted her head. Stoick grinned. "You keep an eye on that son of mine."

He left the great hall, shouldering his ax and whistling. Astrid eyed Hiccup carefully.

She sidled over to him slowly, hoping he wouldn't look up. He didn't; he was too caught up in sketching what looked like a sword handle. Messy writing dotted the page.

Astrid slid next to him on the bench and cautiously tickled her fingers against his side. "Mmph," Hiccup said, frowning as he drew an arrow from a scribble of runes to the left side of the handle.

She tickled him a little harder, moving downward from his ribs to the soft side of his belly. Hiccup tore his eyes away from the page. "What are you doing?" he said, trying to wriggle away.

"Getting your attention!" Astrid said, tickling him harder.

Hiccup started to laugh, curling up in a ball and shielding his stomach. "Stop it!" he wheezed, pushing his papers out of harm's way. "Astrid, come on!"

"No way!" she said. "We were supposed to go flying half an hour ago, and you haven't even noticed I was here!"

"I notice now!" he howled. He tried to slide away from her and slid backwards to the floor, landing on his tailbone with his legs still hanging over the side of the bench. "You have my attention, you can stop now!"

"Nope," Astrid said. "Revenge!"

She swung her legs down to straddle him, tickling his sides and his stomach as he laughed hysterically and tried to throw her off. "Astrid!" Hiccup gasped, trying to grab her wrists. "I'm going to die! Stop it!"

"Say it!" Astrid said.

"Fine, submit!" he hollered. "Submit, submit, I submit." She stopped tickling him and he gasped in relief, his cheeks red and his eyes watering. "Oh, gods, I thought you were going to kill me."

Astrid leaned over him, her hands on the ground behind his shoulders. "I wouldn't go that far," she said. "Just a little torture."

Hiccup wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, smearing more charcoal across his face. "Oh, sure, just a little," he scoffed.

Astrid smiled and kissed his forehead. "So," she said. "You ready to go now?"

"I suppose," Hiccup said. "You have to get off me first."

She climbed off him and offered a hand to help him up. "So," she said, eyeing the spot behind his ear. "Are you ticklish everywhere?"

"Astrid…"

"Oh, look, you are!"

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**Author's Notes:**

I imagine this happens frequently for them.

(Actually, come to think of it, this same scenario happens in the friendship headcanon drabble. So...yeah. You'll get to see more tickles and cuteness then.)

I like to think that when Hiccup was a little toddler Stoick used to surprise him with tickle fights. It was a good way to cheer him up or distract him (or get him to stop asking a million questions). I also think that when Hiccup found out that his dad was the one who told Astrid his secret he wasn't pleased. So Stoick tickled him and was all like "ha, this was funny when you were little, and it's still funny now!"

Also, I think Astrid told Valka about Hiccup being ticklish. So now Hiccup has everybody ganging up on him when he least expects it. (Now I kind of want to write about Valka sneaking up on him and tickling him, that would be hilarious because HE WOULDN'T SEE IT COMING.)

Speaking of which, Valka features heavily in the next drabble. It's a much longer one, and it's sad and intense and I'm kind of proud of it.

And thank you so much for your kind reviews and messages! I really appreciate you guys.

**Next chapter: angry headcanon**


	4. Angry

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

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**angry headcanon: **Hiccup might snap at people when he's frustrated, but it takes a lot for him to truly get angry. When he loses his temper it's bad, but it's over quickly and he feels terrible.

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It wasn't until the door closed and he found himself in the middle of the cold, empty house that he had a chance to think.

He'd been awake for forty-eight hours. The last time he'd had anything to eat was in the ice caves. He'd fought Drago. He'd lost his father. He'd been appointed chief. He'd spent the past few hours assessing the damage on Berk and answering a thousand questions.

"Chief, what are we supposed to do about all this ice?"

_I don't know._

"Chief, where are going to put all these new dragons?"

_I don't know._

"Chief, why are you-"

_I don't know._

Frustration built up in his chest, mixing with exhaustion, and he found himself biting back sharp replies to the neverending questions. Couldn't they figure some of this out on their own? Couldn't they just give him a little space? Couldn't they be a little less stupid?

The rational part of his brain tried to reason with him, but he was too tired, and anger overwhelmed him.

He stared at his surroundings like he'd landed on an alien planet. The fire in the hearth had died out long ago, leaving the house cold and dark. But even in the dark he could see reminders of his father everywhere- his spare ax propped against the wall, his cloak hanging up, his boots by the door. The frustration and anger boiling in his chest burned, turning inward sharply. Toothless nudged his hand; Hiccup pushed him back. "Not now," he muttered.

Gentle footsteps echoed behind him. "So," Valka said. "I wonder where I'm going to put Cloudjumper."

Bile rose in the back of his throat. "I don't know," he snapped. "Okay? I don't know. I don't know anything, and I'm tired of people asking me questions."

If he'd turned around, he would have seen the look on his mother's face- startled, and a little hurt. But he didn't.

"I've been chief for six hours, and do you know what? I can't do it!" he rattled on. "Why do I have to answer everyone's questions? Why do I have to do everything? Is everyone else just so stupid that I have to fix all the problems around here?"

He dragged his hands through his hair, his fingers snagging on the braids and nearly yanking them out. "I can't take this!" he roared. "I feel like I'm going to rip at the seams! It's like...ugh, I can't do this. I can't do this!"

He clenched his fists and slammed them into the wall, gritting his teeth at the sudden raw pain in his knuckles. "I didn't want to be chief. I didn't want this! And just because my dad is...just because Dad's gone doesn't mean I'm suddenly, magically ready. And I can't...he's gone! He's gone, and I don't care what anyone says, they don't understand. They _don't_!"

Tears burned behind his eyes and it made his chest hot with a sudden spike of bitter anger. "He was all I had!" he bellowed. He whipped around. "Nothing's gonna change the fact that I don't know you. You're Valka, the dragon lady, the one who loved dragons more than her own son. You didn't come back, and Dad raised me on his own, and he did a _damn good job_. He wasn't perfect, but he loved me and he was my dad and now he's gone and who has to pick up all the pieces? Me! Just me! And I..._can't_...do this!"

He slammed against the wall again, this time dragging the sides of his fists down the rough-hewn walls and relishing the scrape of skin against splinters. But the heat of anger was fading, and now he just felt dizzy and everything seemed too sharp around him.

He struggled to catch his breath, because suddenly it felt like he'd tried to run a marathon and failed, and with a heavy heart he realized there was silence.

He sort of expected yelling. Dad would have yelled at him. Astrid would have yelled at him. Even Gobber would have yelled at him.

He looked up slowly, unsure of what he might see. Valka stood straight and tall and quiet, her lips pressed together. Her eyes were too bright. "I see," she said softly. "I can go, then. If that'll help."

She turned to walk away, and panic twisted in Hiccup's heart, a needle-fine spike. "No!" he said. He stumbled towards her. "No, please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

She paused. "Oh, but you did," she said, her voice still gentle, without a trace of anger or malice. "You did. And I...don't blame you for it. At all." Her eyes were soft, still shining too brightly. "I understand."

"Yes, but I-" Hiccup started to say. He couldn't find the words. "You asked, in the cave, if I was upset, and I...I don't know. I think I am. Kind of. But just because I'm angry, and just because you decided to stay then doesn't mean that…" His voice trailed off. Valka was still standing there like a statue, calm and immoveable. He wanted her to move. He wanted her to do something. "You came back. You decided to come back."

He wanted her to reach for him.

"My dad is dead," he said, his voice a cracked whisper as he said it aloud for the first time. "I don't want you to leave me too." His throat felt thick, like something was choking him. "Don't go. Don't go, Mom."

He could see her lips tremble at that, and it was like a dam burst. "Mom, please," he begged. "Don't leave me. I'm sorry."

She closed the distance between them, taking him by the shoulders. "You've nothing to apologize for, my love," she said. He couldn't meet her gaze as tears welled up without his permission; she cupped his face in her hands and tilted his chin to look at her. "It's all right. It's all right, Hiccup."

But it wasn't all right, and he couldn't breathe. "I'm so sorry, Mom," he burst out, and he was, he was sorry for yelling and sorry for the hurtful things he said and sorry that he _didn't just move out of the way in time_ and then he was sobbing in earnest, ducking his head to avoid her gaze while his arms hung limply at his sides like a broken doll's.

Valka took his hands. "Don't cry, my love," she entreated, and he only cried harder, falling against her and burying his face in her shoulder. There was something faintly familiar about the way she smelled, like rosemary and pine trees, and it broke his heart and soothed him all at the same time.

Valka ran her fingers through his hair. "Sh, sh, sh," she crooned, like she would if he had been very small. "My love, my sweet boy."

Hiccup clung to her, his fingers tightening in a death grip on her arms. "My dad's dead," he sobbed, and saying the words made it feel real. "My dad's dead. My dad's dead."

His knees buckled. Valka held him close, sinking down to the floor. He huddled against her and hid in the safety of her arms. It was different than how his father had ever held him and he could remember a million moments from his childhood with sudden clarity- his father picking him up after he'd scraped his knee, or putting him back to bed after a nightmare, or holding him up the first time he'd fallen after he'd lost his leg (and there had been panic in his father's grip then, panic and sadness and relief all at once). He'd never know that again. Never.

His mother's arms were nearly as unfamiliar as a stranger's, but there was something in the pull of her touch, the fierceness of her hold on him, that made him sag against her. "Mom," he whispered, and his heart seized in his chest. "Don't go. Don't go."

She said nothing, just touched her lips lightly to his temple in a gentle kiss, and he choked on another sob as he felt a tear drip from her cheek and fall to his forehead. It pooled against the black ashen mark that marked him as the new chief, smudging soot over his pale skin. "I'm here, dearheart," she murmured. "I'm here. Mama's here."

It was the sort of gentle thing a mother would say to her baby, and for a moment Hiccup wondered if she was grieving just the same as he was, but for different things- he could mourn for the childhood he remembered, but she had to weep for the baby she left behind, for the moments she missed that she'd never get to know. He hugged her tightly, wrapping his arms around her neck.

"I'm sorry, Mama," he whispered in her ear, and she seized him so tightly he couldn't breathe for a moment. He fell against her as her grip began to relax again, his tears beginning to subside, and Valka pressed a kiss to his forehead.

They sat there for a long time in the cold and empty house, settled in the silence. Hiccup closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the comforting warmth of his mother as he calmed down, his anger long forgotten and his grief melting, shrinking into something small and manageable that he could hold for the time being. He felt drained and faded, his head aching in a dull fog. Valka stroked her thumb against the back of his neck, the touch rhythmic and hypnotic, and he closed his eyes for just a moment.

He woke up to find himself in the dark, lying in his own bed. His armor was set aside, along with his prosthetic, and blankets were tucked around him warmly. Something soft was set by his shoulder; he shifted around to see the tiny dragon toy his mother had made for him all those years ago. It might have been his imagination, but it might have smelled a little like rosemary and pine trees, and as he drifted off to sleep he felt calmer than he had in a while.

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**Author's Notes:**

Gaaaaaaaaaaaah.

Considering how short a time HTTYD2 spans, it's a wonder Hiccup didn't completely snap. So...I imagine he waited till he got home and just _broke_.

And Valka. Oh god. She got her husband back and lost him again. She got her baby back, but he's not a baby, he's a young man who's hurting and _there is nothing she can do._ And I feel like she looks at Hiccup and it just breaks her heart that she missed everything, and she'll never have that chance again. So when her son is sobbing, she doesn't know how to comfort him as a young adult, she just sees her baby and she gathers him up in her arms and cuddles him like she would have if he was still the child she left behind.

I need to write a story or drabble series about what would have happened if Valka hadn't been taken. It's killing me. (go prompt things, go prompt things...)

And also I just really love the idea of Hiccup being so exhausted that he cries himself to sleep, and Valka gets him in his room and gets him comfortable and tucks him in, and she finds the little dragon toy she made him when he was small, and then _she _breaks down, and she ends up tucking it beside him like she did when he was a baby.

I also have a headcanon that in the first couple of months in the aftermath, Hiccup would wake up with night terrors- screaming, grabbing for his sword, shouting things without being actually awake. It terrified Valka, but she would try to coax him out of it, and when he woke up and came back to himself he was dizzy and shaky and scared, and even though he would go back to bed and try to sleep, he couldn't manage it, so he would end up going to Valka's room and crawling into bed beside her and would fall asleep with his hand on her arm because that's what made him feel safe. And Valka needed it to, because the last time she slept in this bed she had her husband snoring comfortably beside her and their baby snoozing between them and now she's alone. So having her son next to her is just as calming and reassuring for her as it is for Hiccup.

(I've been trying to write that as a drabble, maybe for part fifteen, but it's not turning out the way I'd like. I don't know if anyone would want to read that, actually.)

Anyways, as a slightly more cheerful part 2 for this drabble, Valka wakes up when the sun comes up but Hiccup is still dead to the world, and Astrid comes over looking for him and Valka explains that he's exhausted and still asleep, but maybe you should go and check on him. So Astrid goes to wake him up, but ends up taking off her armor and spooning him instead, so when Hiccup wakes up he's warm and relaxed and Astrid's arms are tight around him and he feels a million times better.

(Also it's canon that Hiccup is perpetually cold, and I really ought to write something with that.)

Anyways.

**Next chapter: bedroom/living quarters headcanon**


	5. House

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

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■ **\- bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon**

"Happy third birthday, Hiccup!" Gobber said cheerfully.

Hiccup sighed. "I'm not three, I'm twelve," he said. This was the worst part of being born on February 29th. He'd spent all day listening to everyone congratulating him on turning three. Stoick had even put three candles in his morning porridge.

"I know, I know," Gobber said. He ruffled Hiccup's hair. "It's just funny. The oddest little Viking in Berk, born on the oddest day of the year."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "So is there a reason you wanted me to come to the forge?" he said. "I thought you said I could have the day off."

"Aye, of course, of course," Gobber said. "But how else was I supposed to give you your birthday present?"

Hiccup looked around for the ax or sword or whatever he was getting this year, already preparing for the inevitable polite thank you and smile he would have to summon up. But Gobber was just grinning gleefully and stumping over to the door to the small cellar. "Well, don't just stand there, lad, follow me," he said.

Hiccup frowned and obeyed. "What are you hiding in there?" he asked. He'd only been in the cellar a few times; it was a scary catch-all for all the pieces Gobber didn't know what to do with. "I really don't want to die when I haven't gotten past my third birthday. Twelfth. My twelfth birthday."

Gobber grinned and opened the door. "See for yourself!" he said.

Hiccup peeked inside reluctantly. The cellar had been cleaned out, the rubbish replaced with a small drafting table and the walls lined with shelves. "What is this?" Hiccup asked, bewildered.

"It's for you!" Gobber said. "I've seen you scribbling in those notebooks of yours and building those little bits of things when you've think I'm not looking. Might as well have a place of your own to work."

Hiccup turned in a circle, gazing at his surroundings in a daze. "This is for me?" he said, his voice coming out in a squeak.

"Just for you," Gobber said.

Hiccup trailed his finger along the smooth surface of the drafting table. "Are you sure?" he said.

"Of course I'm sure," Gobber said. "You're twelve now, you'll be a man soon. And a man ought to have a space of his own."

"You didn't have to do this," Hiccup said.

Gobber shrugged. "I know," he said. "But you're my godson, and it's not like I'm going to have sons of my own any time soon, so…" He cuffed Hiccup affectionately on the shoulder. "Just don't get too crazy in here, all right? No more setting things on fire."

"That was an accident, the bellows were broken," Hiccup protested, but he was grinning widely at his new workshop, excitement bubbling up. "Thanks, Gobber."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I'm pretty sure Hiccup has set things on fire on accident more than once.

It just dawned on me that people might see the chapter title and think I was talking about what Hogwarts house Hiccup might be in. Oops. I am truly sorry if you have been sorely disappointed.

I always kind of wondered where Hiccup's workshop came from. Like...did someone give it to him? Did he just start working there one day and slowly the space became his? But the forge is Gobber's, so I like to think that Gobber gave it to him.

I have slowly been growing a lot of feels about Gobber. He's been Stoick's best friend for a long time, so he was there helping Stoick court Valka and was there when they got married and was there when they were newlyweds. And he was there when Hiccup was born, so I imagine that Gobber was the first non-family person who got to see the new baby. And he was there when Valka was taken, so he watched his best friend grieve for his beloved wife and he watched the baby suffer without his mother. And then when Hiccup was about six, I can see Stoick trying to figure out what on earth he was going to do with his boy, and Gobber offered to take him on as an apprentice because no one else would. Gobber is basically a second father, but they're Vikings and they _don't do feelings, _so he never really says anything to Hiccup about how he's fond of him, and honestly Hiccup doesn't really notice it.

_oh but what if _after Stoick's death, when Hiccup is the brand new chief and slightly out of his element, he finds himself going to Gobber to ask questions, and Gobber, who had been Stoick's right hand man for the past twenty years, if not more (Spitelout can think he was second in command, but Gobber knew everything) gives him advice and when Hiccup anxiously asks "is this what Dad would have done?" Gobber counters with "sure, but what do you think you ought to do?"

And he's the one who fills Valka in on the gaps, telling her all sorts of stories about Hiccup's childhood, helping her find a new place in the village now that she's not the chief's lady but the chief's mother (she's spent twenty years around dragons, after all, so her social skills are super rusty). And he's also the one who listens to Astrid, because she wants to support Hiccup, not only as the new chief but also as a boy mourning his father, and sometimes she isn't sure of what to do, and she just really needs to talk to someone who knows Hiccup and knew Stoick.

(And when Hiccup starts the process of talking to Astrid's family about marrying her, Gobber is the one who coaches him, and is super proud when he gets married, and super emotional when their first baby is born, and Hiccup and Astrid's children might not know their grandfather, but they know Gobber, and Gobber holds the little rascals on his knees and tells them stories about their Grampa Stoick and so they know all about him.)

Who knew it was possible to have so many feels about Gobber?

But yes, I thought it would be sweet if Gobber gave the workshop space to Hiccup as a birthday present. And speaking of birthday presents, can we talk about how wonderful it is that Hiccup's birthday in canon is February 29th? Like literally, I cannot stop laughing at the thought of Hiccup being told "happy third birthday" all day and him being all like "yeah, yeah, thanks, BUT I AM TWELVE."

Now I'm picturing Hiccup's twenty-fourth birthday, his first actual birthday day now that he's chief, and he endures an entire day of people saying "HAPPY SIXTH BIRTHDAY" and commenting on how smart he is to be a chief at the age of six. Astrid spends the whole day giggle-snorting. It's great.

Also, now that I'm thinking about it, I think Hiccup's Hogwarts house would be Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, but I'm not sure which one. Probably Gryffindor. I usually conclude house debates by thinking "what does the person value most?" and while Hiccup is super smart, I think he values bravery more. Particularly in the first movie, when he still desperately wants to be a Viking like everybody else. But I can also see him as a Hufflepuff, because loyalty is a big deal with him. Slytherin? Hm, he doesn't really value ambition. So yeah. Probably a Gryffindor? I don't know. What do you think?

Also this author's note is longer than the drabble _oops _I have no regrets.

**Next chapter: romantic**


	6. Romantic

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

* * *

**romantic headcanon:** once Hiccup and Astrid get past their initial hesitance and start an actual relationship, they become incredibly comfortable with each other. They also have a tendency to put themselves in dangerous situations that scares the living daylights out of the other one.

* * *

"Oh, gods," Hiccup spluttered, clambering onto the riverbank. Toothless made a hoarse bark that sounded like laughter and nosed at him.

"Are you all right?" Astrid asked, half-rising from her seat on the rock.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hiccup sighed. "Just wet."

She perched back on the rock, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged. "That's what you get for testing your flight suit before you're sure it's ready," she said. The initial panic he'd caused when he fell had died down a bit; now she was just halfway between amused and irritated. "I told you it needed more testing."

"Well, I thought it would be okay," Hiccup grumbled. He was still struggling to pull himself up, his metal foot unable to provide traction against the rocky shore. "Little help here, Astrid?"

She got up and took his hand, pulling him out of the water with a firm yank. "I hope you've learned your lesson," she warned.

"Not likely," he grinned. Astrid punched him in the stomach, making his tailfin pop out. "Ow! Why are you always punching me?"

"I punch because I care, and-" she said.

"Clearly you don't care for my hard work, you almost broken my wing," Hiccup interjected, turning around in an attempt to see if his tailfin was damaged.

Astrid put her hands on her hips. "And because you scared the crap out of me," she finished, glaring at him.

"Oh," he said. He screwed up his face. "I guess it probably did seem a little terrifying to see me spiraling out of the sky like that…"

"Yeah, just a little," she said. She let her hands fall to her sides. "Now take that wet flight suit thing off. You're going to make yourself sick."

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned, unbuckling the straps that held the jacket. He laid it down carefully in the grass to dry. "Nah-uh, Toothless, no sir. Don't sit on that." Toothless warbled in disappointment.

Astrid watched Hiccup unburden himself from the pieces of his test flying suit. His clothes underneath were still wet, but they'd dry faster than the leather. "Your hair's a mess," she commented.

"Isn't always?" he said, ruffling it up carelessly. The ends were beginning to dry, spiking up in soft tendrils. Now that he was getting older his hair was darkening and settling to a deep auburn; she kind of missed the bright red of his childhood.

"Come here," she said, beckoning to him as his fingers caught on a knot. "I'll fix it."

He sat down on the ground by her rock, settling down between her legs and leaning his head against her knee. "It wasn't too much of a failure, you know," he said. She ran her fingers through his wet hair, nodding. "I've got enough to go on to make some changes. It's mostly the back fin, I think, the calibration needs to be really sensitive or it's not going to work properly. Which means you definitely _cannot _punch the launch mechanism anymore."

"Mm," Astrid said as she worked a knot out of his hair.

"I think I might need to make some changes to the wings, though," he said. She raked her fingers through a lock of hair behind his ear, dividing it in three pieces. She paused, smiling. "I don't think the leather's quite right. And maybe if it's a different shape, it might...Astrid?"

"Hm?" she said.

"What are you doing?"

"Braiding," she said serenely.

He tried to twist around to see her. "You can't braid my hair," he said.

"It sure looks like I am," she said.

He sighed heavily. "I'll just take it out later," he said, settling back against her.

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will," he mumbled, but his cheek was pressed against her knee and he was relaxed against her like a puppy getting a belly rub.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

PRECIOUS BABIES ARE PRECIOUS.

Seriously, these two. They're just so settled and comfortable and loving around each other without it being a big deal. Like they just know the other person is there for them and they're confident in that. And they're confident that the other person is smart and capable, but they still worry when they do something foolish. I'm sure there's been many times that Astrid has done something that's left Hiccup going "WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU ARE GIVING ME A HEART ATTACK."

Also the hair braiding. I am in love with the hair braiding. I love that it's canon that she braids his hair and he tolerates it. Although I think we all know that he secretly likes it. And I'm sure she's taught him how to braid her hair, which is adorable to think about.

But basically I just love these precious little tater tots.

Also, I have real trouble forgetting that Toothless is in scenes. Like for real. I'll start a scene and mention Toothless...and then suddenly he's gone. I guess he just likes to wander off. Do his own thing. Yeah.

Also, I love the debate that happened in my reviews about what house Hiccup would be belong to in Hogwarts! The only real common consensus is that he's not a Slytherin. To which I agree wholeheartedly.

**Next chapter: family**


	7. Family

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

* * *

**family headcanon: ...I'll explain at the end.**

"Who's my sweet boy, hm?" Valka cooed, tracing her fingertip along the curve of Hiccup's tiny nose. "Who's my sweet boy?" The baby giggled, latching onto her fingertip. Valka adjusted the sling that held him against her breast and smiled at him.

"Morning, Lady," Phlegma called from across the path. Valka waved. "Oh! Is that the baby? Let me take a look at him!"

Valka adjusted the blankets and held Hiccup so Phlegma could see him. "He's five months now," she said proudly.

"What a wee little thing," Phlegma said. "Don't you worry, little one, you'll be a great chief someday. You'll grow up to be a fine strapping dragon slayer like your papa in no time."

Valka felt her smile turn a little forced. She didn't like the idea of her tiny baby becoming a dragon slayer. She'd felt that long before she'd had her son, and she felt it even stronger now.

"Speaking of which, Lady, when're you going to rejoin the raid defenses?" Phlegma asked. "I know the birth was hard on you, but you're all healed up, right? Healed up enough to fight?"

Hiccup fussed a little, mashing a tiny fist into his small mouth, and Valka bounced him gently. "I'm not coming back to the defenses," she said. "I've taken up training with the healers."

Phlegma frowned. "But we've never had a chief's lady who didn't fight," she said, perplexed. "It's not been done."

"That may be so, but it's being done now," a booming voice said behind them. Valka turned to see her husband striding up the path towards them, beaming broadly. "There's my beautiful lass. And my son! Is he awake? Can I hold him?"

"He's awake," Valka reassured him, lifting Hiccup from the sling and handing him over to Stoick.

"Valka's decided she'd like to be trained by the healers, and I don't see why she can't," he said as he took his son easily. "There's always a need for healers on Berk. And she wants to do it."

"Aye, then," Phlegma said, shrugging as she hefted her ax back to her shoulder. "I'd best be off. Good to see you, Chief. Good to see you, Lady."

Stoick waved an absent goodbye, distracted by Hiccup latching onto his beard and trying to stuff it in his mouth. "Oh, look at the little devil," he cooed, ticking Hiccup's small tummy with one large forefinger.

Valka slid her arm through Stoick's. "Thank you for handling that," she said quietly.

Stoick turned and smiled at her. "None of that, my love," he said. He bent to kiss her gently. "Whatever decisions you make, I'll defend till my death." He took a step back, eyeing her carefully. "Are you feeling all right? You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine," she said. She squeezed his arm. "Perfectly fine. I promise."

He still looked concerned, and she understood. Her pregnancy had been difficult, leaving her weak and exhausted, and then Hiccup came two months early after a long, long labor. And even before that, with the babies she had lost, the brother and sister that Hiccup would never know...it sometimes grated her nerves how Stoick treated her like a piece of glass, but she understood.

The baby hiccupped and looked up at Stoick, startled, as if he wasn't entirely sure where that sound came from. Stoick laughed. "Living up to your name, eh, son?" he said. "Here, back to your mama with you."

He kissed Hiccup's forehead and handed the baby back. Valka took him as he started to fuss, tucking him back into the sling and patting his little back to soothe him. "He's such a sweet thing," she said.

"Takes after you," Stoick said. He took her hand and she squeezed his fingers gently as they started the walk back to their home.

There was a raid that night, a bad one, and Valka was relieved that she was a healer and not a fighter. Being a healer meant she could stay in the great hall with the baby strapped safely to her back while she tended to ax wounds and dragon bites. Hiccup slept through most of the ruckus; she kept reaching back to check on him, to make sure he was still there, and every time she felt his tiny warm body she thanked the gods that she could keep her baby safe.

In the earliest hours of the morning, long before the sun came up, Hiccup started to cry- the thin, thready wail that meant he was hungry. She begged off from the healers and took a seat in the great hall to nurse him, leaning heavily against the wall from exhaustion.

"Oh, my little love," she whispered, smoothing his soft downy hair as he nursed, his small nose pressed against her breast. "I don't want this for you."

She held him close, until he was full and sleepy and content, and all she could do was bite back tears at the sight of his sweet little face. She'd wanted him so badly, but she hadn't realized the repercussions of bringing a baby into a world where she herself didn't fully belong.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

ALL RIGHT SO HERE ARE MY HEADCANONS.

First of all, it frustrates me to no end that we know so little about young!Stalka and how they met and how they fell in love and whatnot. Really frustrates me. All we know for sure is that Valka is ten years younger thank Stoick; originally on the Dreamworks website he was listed as being 50 and she was 40 in the second movie, so if Hiccup is 20, he was born when Valka was only twenty. So she married presumably fairly young- my guess is about seventeen, when Stoick was twenty-seven and already established as chief of Berk. And she married Stoick because she loved him, but she felt incredibly out of place, and not really equipped to be a chieftain's wife on full view of the village. And she didn't like fighting. At all. So the people of Berk (another headcanon: she came from a different island, maybe one with a different culture that wasn't as focused on dragon fighting) liked her well enough, but privately thought that the chief should have picked someone a bit more suitable.

And I've mentioned this a couple of times, but I firmly believe that she had several miscarriages/stillbirths before Hiccup was born, and then Hiccup was born early and so weak that she didn't believe he'd make it. Even without the prior loss of pregnancies, can you imagine being twenty years old, already feeling like a fish out of water, already feeling like everyone is judging you for not being good enough for their chief, already both hating to fight and hating that you're horrible at fighting, and then you give birth to your first baby, and he's tiny and weak and probably not going to survive, and you blame yourself for not being able to carry the pregnancy to full term, and people are whispering about how the chief should have married someone stronger to give him healthy heirs, and you just feel like a terrible mother and a terrible wife and a terrible person?

I firmly believe Valka was dealing with some pretty severe postpartum depression.

I think Stoick tried to help, but she didn't talk to him about her feelings much. She hid them. So he helped where he could, like when she asked if she could train with the healers instead of fight, he was all for it and enthusiastic and shut down anyone who tried to protest that the chief's wife was supposed to be a fighter. And he helped care for Hiccup, and he cared for her, but there was always this sadness that he couldn't quite get to.

So when the dragon took Valka, I think she initially thought about going back to Berk, once her panic wore off. But then she started thinking about how much better Berk would be without her, how Stoick could marry a new wife who could give him strong children to rule after him, how if Hiccup even survived to his first birthday she would be a horrible mother to him...so she stayed with the dragons.

So yes. These are my Valka-related headcanons and now I feel sad.

Luckily, the next drabble is a funny one. But feel free to share your own Valka headcanons, or prompt Valka/Stalka/Hiccup related drabbles on my tumblr!

**Next chapter: friendship**


	8. Friendship

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

* * *

**friendship headcanon: The Berk kids have a history of making up some...interesting games.**

"I'm so bored," Tuffnut whined.

Ruffnut elbowed him in the ribs. "You've said that a million times, either say something different or shut up," she said.

Tuffnut rolled his eyes. "I'm incredibly overwhelmed with ennui, is that any better?" he said.

Astrid balled up a discarded page from Hiccup's journal and tossed it at him. "Can you even spell 'ennui'?" she asked dryly.

"Sure I can, it's...it's o...n...n...n?"

"E-n-n-u-i," Fishlegs corrected. "Maybe we can help Hiccup with the new pages for the dragon book?"

"No," Hiccup said absently, still sketching. "No, I do not need any help. Last time you guys 'helped,' my sketches of electricsquirms all mysteriously turned into penises."

Snotlout guffawed. "You're welcome," he said.

"No, but seriously," Tuffnut said, sprawling out across the table. "It's raining too hard to fly. Or train. Or do anything but sit in the great hall and wait for dinner. I'm so _bored_."

Astrid glanced around the quiet hall. A couple of other Vikings were sitting along the outskirts, but for the most part, they were the only ones there. "Or," she said slowly. "We could play True Hooligan."

"Yes!" Snotlout screeched, standing up so fast he nearly knocked the table over. Hiccup grabbed for his pencils before they rolled to the floor. "Yes, oh my gods! I claim building the castle!"

"We've got the zones!" Tuffnut said, dragging Ruffnut off the bench.

"Oh, come on, guys," Fishlegs said. "We've got to be careful. Remember what happened last time? With the spear, and the Terrible Terror, and the blanket?"

"We'll just make sure there's no spears or blankets around! Come on and help!"

"Fine…"

Astrid got up, tossing her braid over her shoulder, and glanced down at Hiccup, who was still staring at his book. "Aren't you coming?" she said.

"Hmmph," Hiccup said.

Astrid shook her head. He'd been sketching and scribbling for the past hour and a half completely caught up in his diagram of sharkworms. His left hand had dragged over his pages so much that not only was the side of his palm black, but he'd smeared charcoal over his cheek too. "You've been working really hard," she said. "You can take a break for a while."

"Mmph," Hiccup said.

Astrid slid her arms around his chest from behind him, tucking her chin on his shoulder. "Hiccup," she said. "Come on. Come play with us."

"Yeah, in a second," he said.

She nuzzled his neck. "Hiccup, c'mon," she singsonged.

He batted at her lightly. "Just a second," he said. "And stop it, you know I'm ticklish."

"Oh, I know," she said. She kissed his neck. "I'm not leaving you alone until you come and play with us."

"Just a second," he whined.

Astrid hugged him tighter and tickled his sides. "Come play!" she shrieked, and he dropped his pencils with a yelp.

"Fine! Fine! I'll come play!" he said, squirming away from her fingers and failing miserably. "Just stop tickling me!"

She blew a raspberry on his neck. "Ha," she said, hugging him. "I won."

"Yeah, yeah, you usually do," Hiccup grinned, climbing off the bench and shimmying around in her grip so he was facing her, his arms around her waist. "But you've made a horrible mistake. You know I'm going to win."

"Oh, is that a challenge, Haddock?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

"You know it, Hofferson."

Snotlout popped up from behind the barrels of mead and the stacks of mugs across the hall. "Are you two done being all cutesy?" he said. "We have serious Hooligan business to attend to!"

"The zones are ready and the floor is lava," Ruffnut called, climbing up on a chair.

Astrid held out her hand to Hiccup. "May the best Hooligan win," she said.

"Thanks, I will," he smirked. He shook her hand and she bent a finger back just enough to hurt. "Ow!"

"All right, everyone, on your chairs," Snotlout ordered. "Fishlegs, hand everyone their first cups."

Astrid jumped onto a table and grabbed her mug. Hiccup climbed onto the bench across from her, still smirking. "Everyone ready?" he called.

They all nodded and braced themselves for the start of the game. "Grimhead, Chucklehead, the strong will belong!" they screamed. "One, two, three, four! Pillage, plunder, Viking lore!"

Astrid held up three fingers to her forehead and looked around wildly. "Ruffnut!" she screamed, who was holding two. "We're partners!"

Ruffnut roared back at her in approval. "Everybody drink!" Snotlout shouted.

Hiccup chugged his mead and swiped at his mouth with his sleeve. "Grimbeard the Ghastly hid his treasure, the tribe's heir found it to his displeasure!" he bellowed.

"Oh, crap, I forgot he knows how to rhyme," Tuffnut said.

"Hiccup gets points, everybody move!" Astrid ordered. "No! Not the floor, Fishlegs, the floor islava!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Astrid climbed over the table and crossed the bench, hesitating for a moment. "Sorry, Spitelout," she apologized. The big man only grunted as she clambered over his shoulders.

"Okay, everyone stop!" Tuffnut said. "Give a fact!"

Everyone shouted out something; Astrid hollered out her favorite. "The chief of the Bog Burglars kills small animals with her boobs!"

"No, Ruffnut and Snotlout said the same fact, everybody take a drink!" Fishlegs said. Astrid reached for the nearest mug. It wasn't a good sign that they were only five minutes into the game and already on the second drink. Or maybe it was a good sign. The best sign.

And it also meant that when Stoick and Gobber came stomping into the hall two hours later, they found all of the furniture in the hall turned around and scattered in clumps, a pile of empty tankards filled a discarded tub, and everyone was screaming. Ruffnut, Snotlout, and Fishlegs were all trying to stand on the same chair, Astrid was sitting crosslegged on top of a bench stacked on top of a table, and Tuffnut was standing on a wobbly stool with Hiccup on his back.

"What's going on here?" Stoick asked in disbelief.

They were all shouting too loudly for anyone to acknowledge him. "No, Dogsbreath the Duhbrain lost to Mogadon the Meathead!" Fishlegs roared.

"No, it was Norbert the Nutjob!" Ruffnut screamed back.

Gobber blinked. "I think it's a game," he said.

"It's a stalemate, it's a stalemate!" Astrid bellowed. "Everybody drink!"

Stoick looked around at them as they all took deep swigs from their tankards. "Hiccup, are you drunk?" he said.

Hiccup pointed at him. "Dad, I am so drunk," he said, clinging to Tuffnut's hair. "But I'm winning!"

Stoick laughed. "Carry on, then!" he said, sitting down to watch.

The game ended when Hiccup staggered to the wine barrel before the others and took the first drink from it, but Astrid had captured (read: drunk) all the pawns, so it was counted as a tie. By then they were all so thoroughly drunk none of them were able to make it through dinner and had to stagger back home in the rain to sleep off their hangovers.

But the game was enough of a success that the next time it stormed, Stoick suggested they play True Hooligan again, and this time he and Gobber were the referees.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

All right, so have you seen New Girl? The Zooey Deschanel TV show? Well, in that show, they came up with a crazy game called True American. It's 90% drinking game with a loose Candyland like structure. Well, one of my favorite HTTYD-related tumblr people, avannak, posted a thing about "what if the Berk kids played True Hooligan?" And then it all went from there. She came up with a lot of the phrasing and rules for the game; I just got her permission to post this and then wrote a bunch of goofy nonsense.

A lot of the trivia in the game was pulled from the books. I've been listening to the audiobooks in the car on the way to and from work (I work in Disney World, hurray!) and oh my god, I'm in love. David Tennant reads them and it's glorious. I'm also pretty sure (actually 100% sure) that Camicazi is going to show up in this drabble series. And it's going to be adorable.

Also I hope you enjoyed more of Astrid tickling Hiccup. Presh lil tater tots.

**Next chapter: childhood**


	9. Childhood

Disclaimer: How to Train Your Dragon belongs to Dreamworks, not me.

**childhood headcanon: Hiccup was one of those kids who always had a cold in the wintertime.**

Stoick had learned to dread that first telltale sniffle.

It was always a sniffle, just a little one. Then they'd become more and more frequent, along with small sneezes, and then the sneezes would grow louder and louder, and Stoick would sigh heavily, knowing he was in for a rough week while Hiccup sneezed and coughed and wiped at his running nose.

This time, though, he managed to miss the signs.

He was in the middle of a council session, debating about whether or not they should send another expedition in search of the dragons' nest, when he felt a slight weight press against his knee. He glanced down to see his five-year-old son leaning on him.

"Hiccup," he whispered. "I'm glad you want to learn to be chief, but you're too little to be in a council meeting."

Hiccup shook his head and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I know," he said, his small voice thick. Stoick sighed, dropping his head in his hand. Hiccup had another cold. Of course.

Hiccup hid under the table and rested his head on Stoick's broad thigh. Stoick smoothed his hair as he kept talking. He was still chief, after all, he couldn't drop everything at the drop of a helmet.

Hiccup sniffled hard and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Stoick rubbed his narrow back with a broad hand. Maybe he could cut the meeting just a little short.

He was just beginning to wrap things up when Hiccup crawled onto his lap, curling up on his knees like a tired kitten. Stoick tried to talk faster. Hiccup had to be sick if he was trying to cuddle.

He closed out the meeting and reached under the table for his son as the other Vikings filed out. "Well, now," he said, lifting Hiccup to face him. "What's wrong?"

"I don't feel good," Hiccup said, leaning his head on his shoulder.

Stoick stifled a sigh. Hiccup's frequent winter colds were a nuisance, but the worst part about it was watching the child's misery. "All right, son, let's get you home," he said, standing up and wrapping his cloak around Hiccup.

He was kicking himself for not catching it in time. Usually at those first sniffles he would make Hiccup drink herbal tea until it was nearly coming out of his ears and kept him inside to make him take naps. That usually at least lessened the cold, if it didn't wipe it out entirely. But now Hiccup was already sick.

He carried Hiccup into the house and set him down on the floor. "Go get into bed," he said.

At least, he tried to put him down on the floor. Hiccup clung to his arms. "Carry me," he whimpered.

"Hiccup, you're a big lad, you can walk yourself," Stoick said, but try as he might, he couldn't quite say no. "All right. Just this once."

He carried Hiccup to his room and set him down on his bed, pulling his boots off and tucking the covers around him. "You need to sleep," he said sternly. "I'll get medicine from the healers and be back in a bit."

Usually Hiccup fought him on that, whining about how the medicine they gave him tasted gross, but he only nodded and burrowed under the covers, shivering. Stoick looked down at the little lump under the blankets. "I'll be right back, son," he said, bending to kiss Hiccup's cheek, but the child didn't answer. He just stared blankly at the wall.

Stoick walked away, feeling uncomfortably powerless. He was the chief of Berk, leader of the Vikings' council, slayer of dragons...and he couldn't even make his small son feel better.

_ten years later_

"Hiccup, come on, we're going to be late," Astrid called up the stairs as she idly examined her fingernails.

"How did you get into my house?" he called back.

"I have my ways. Now hurry up before I go up there and get you myself."

She heard the step-stomp of him making his way grumpily down the stairs. "I just wanted to sleep in a little bit, is that so much of a crime?" he groused.

"It is if you promised to be up by…" Her voice trailed off as she turned to look at him. "Hiccup."

"What?"

"Go back to bed."

Hiccup blinked in confusion. "I don't understand you," he said. "You yell at me to get up, then you yell at me to go back to bed…"

"You look horrible," Astrid said.

He frowned. "Gee, thanks."

"No, really, you look you've been sat on by a Gronkle," she said. He did look terrible, his cheeks flushed and his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. His nose was rubbed red and raw. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"I'm not sick," he said, but he let out a loud trumpeting sneeze and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I'm fine."

Astrid huffed. "You're not going camping this weekend," she said flatly.

"But everyone else gets to go!" Hiccup protested. "I'll be the only one not there. That's not fair, Astrid."

"You are not going to get everyone else sick," she said, turning him around and propelling him up the stairs.

"I'm not s-s-s-" he started to say, but he sneezed three times in quick succession. "Sick."

"You're sick," she told him. "And don't you dare wipe your nose on your sleeve. That's disgusting."

Astrid pushed Hiccup up the stairs and into his room. "It's just a cold, Astrid, I get them all the time," he protested.

She unbuckled his flight suit jacket, turned him around, and pried it off his arms. "You don't even have a cloak with you," she scolded.

"Well, yeah, it's not practical for flying," he said. Astrid swatted his behind; he yelped and jumped about a foot in the air. "What was that for?"  
"You are the dumbest boy I've ever met!" she spluttered. "You throw yourself off dragons and go outside without a cloak when you're sick...how are you supposed to be chief of Berk someday?"

"I"m a Viking, I live on the edge," he grinned. She spanked him again. "You have got to stop that!"

She pulled the last straps of his flight suit off and gave him a push towards his bed. "Go lie down," she said.

Hiccup scowled. "You're ruining all my fun," he accused.

She draped the pieces of his flight suit carefully over a chair. "I know, I'm pretty good at it," she said. "I'm going to make you something hot to drink. I'll be right back."

"Don't burn it," he mumbled. He pulled the blankets over his head before she could smack him again.

"I don't burn water," she grumbled to herself.

(She actually had once, when she was nine, but she wasn't about to tell him that.)

There wasn't much stocked, but she warmed up a cup of mead and carried it up the stairs. "All right, I didn't burn it, so you can stop your teasing now," she warned. She stopped in the doorway. Hiccup was already asleep, his arms sprawled above his head and his mouth open in a horrendously loud, congested snore.

Astrid set the cup down and tiptoed over to him. "See?" she said softly. "I told you to go back to sleep." She tucked the blankets around him and kissed his warm cheek. "Feel better."

A few hours later Hiccup stumbled down the stairs, still wrapped up in his blanket. "Astrid," he croaked.

She glanced up from the new ax handle she was whittling. "Hi, sleeping beauty," she said. "What're you doing out of bed?"

He sniffled, scrunching his face up. "I was thirsty," he said, shuffling over to her. "Astrid, I think I'm sick."

"Ah," she said, opening up her arms and pulling him into a hug. "Came to that conclusion yourself, did you?"

He headbutted her lightly. "Ha, ha, go ahead and gloat," he said. He rubbed his eyes. "Thanks for staying."

She squeezed him a little tighter. "It's what I'm here for," she said. "But seriously, stop wiping your nose on your sleeve. It's so gross."

_five years later_

Valka couldn't sleep.

After twenty years, sleeping in a bed was a strange sensation, like she was sinking in a cloud. Sometimes she had trouble falling asleep, and ended up pacing around until she was finally tired enough. But this was different. It wasn't just that she couldn't sleep...she had the unsettling feeling that something wasn't quite right. She just didn't know what it was.

She wandered around the quiet house, trailing her fingers along the shelves and furniture that she still vaguely remembered from her old life. Toothless was fast asleep by the fire, his wings curled tightly around himself to stave off the winter chill in the air. She petted him lightly and he snuffled in his sleep.

She wandered up the stairs, trailing her hand along the railing, and peeked in the cracked door of Hiccup's room. Hopefully he hadn't realized she'd gotten into the habit of checking on him while he slept. When he was a baby she couldn't even bear to have him sleep in his cradle; it just seemed so far away and it was comforting to tuck him in between herself and Stoick. Sometimes she had trouble reconciling the memory of her baby with the long-legged young man she saw now, and sometimes it eased the ache a little to peek in on him while he was asleep and she could pretend he was her baby still.

Hiccup was fast asleep, the blankets pulled up around his ears so all she could see was his ruffled dark hair. Valka smiled, but the smile faded as she saw him shudder. "Hiccup?" she whispered. "Are you all right?"

He curled into a tighter ball and she realized he was coughing. "Hiccup," she said, a little louder, pushing the door open and sitting down on the edge of his bed. She tugged the blankets away from his face. He was coughing harder now, hacking up something from deep in his lungs, and he was starting to wake up.

"Mom," he rasped, his eyes still glazed over from sleep. "I can't breathe."

Valka pulled him into a sitting position, her hand supporting the back of his neck. He coughed into the crook of his elbow and sucked in a deep shuddering breath, then another. "That's it, sweetheart," Valka soothed, stroking the nape of his neck. His skin felt warm and she touched his forehead, then his cheek. "You've got a fever."

Hiccup rubbed his eyes. "I thought so," he said miserably.

That hurt more than she thought it would. "You knew you were sick?" she said. "And you didn't tell anyone?"

"I get colds all the time," he said, closing his eyes and leaning into the cool touch of her hand. "Astrid usually makes me rest, but she's been gone with her family, and Dad…"

His voice trailed off. Valka smoothed his hair. "I'm so sorry I didn't notice, my love," she said, her heart aching.

"No, it's okay," he said. He coughed again, his shoulders shaking. "I was dumb. I didn't do anything about my cold when it started and now I've let it get worse."

Valka ran her hand up and down his back. "What can I do to help?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "Astrid just makes me tea and makes me sleep, and I'm usually fine in a couple of-"

He broke into a painful-sounding cough. Valka got up and lit the candle on his bedside table. "It's settled in your chest," she said. "You've gone on too long without taking care of yourself...oh, Hiccup."

"What?" he said.

Now that she could see him clearly she could see the red flush of his cheeks and the waxy tinge of his skin. His eyes were watering from his coughing fit. "You look miserable," she said.

He shrugged unhappily. "I'll be okay," he said, his voice thick.

Hiccup liked to play this card a lot, she had realized. I'll be okay was his way of saying I'm used to this. Or I'm not okay, but I can make you think I am.

Valka got up abruptly and left the room. She hadn't been Hiccup's mother for very long, but dammit if she couldn't turn out to be a good one.

When she came back the candle was still lit, but Hiccup was curled up in a small ball against the headboard, his arms folded around his knees, and he was trying to swallow back a cough. Valka set down the things she was carrying on the bedside table. "Stop, stop, stop," she said gently, pulling him out of his fetal position and easing him to sit up with his pillow tucked behind his back.

His skin was hot but he was shivering. "What are you doing?" he asked, his lips slack and clumsy.

Valka sat down beside him and touched his cheek. His fever was higher than she realized. "Looking after my son," she said. She took the soft damp cloth and pressed it to his hot forehead. Hiccup sagged in relief at the gentle touch. "Sweetheart, you don't have to fight things alone."

"I didn't think I was that sick," he mumbled. She bathed his hot face and neck gently before setting the cloth aside. "I can take care of myself. I'm a grown up."

She loosened the front of his shirt and opened a small ceramic jar. It hurt more than she cared to admit to hear that. She stayed silent and scooped a small amount of cool sharp-smelling paste on her fingertips. Hiccup jumped when she touched her fingers to his chest, but visibly relaxed as she rubbed it into his skin. "What're you doing?" he asked.

"This'll help you breathe better," she said. She smiled. "I had to do this a lot when you were a baby. You were so tiny- even the smallest hint of a cold would lay you low for weeks."

"Guess that's why I still get colds," he mumbled.

She adjusted the neckline of his shirt and rubbed the last bit of the paste off her fingers. "You were always still good-natured, though, even when you were ill," she said.

She picked up the mug of tea from the bedside table and placed it in Hiccup's hand, curving his fingers under the handle. He took a sip and recoiled, wrinkling his nose. "What's in that?" he said.

"Mullein, it'll help your cough," she said.

He looked into the mug and frowned, then looked up at her. "Oh," he said. "Thank you."

She smoothed his hair as he drank his tea. "Feeling better?" she asked as he held out the empty mug.

"Yeah, a little," he said.

She set the mug aside. "You need to go back to sleep," she said. "Come on, sweetheart. Lie down."

He was already starting to look drowsy. "Okay," he mumbled, sliding under his blankets as Valka held them up.

"And you should sleep in as long as you need to," she said. "The island will be fine without you for a day."

"Okay," he mumbled again as he rubbed his cheek against his pillow.

She tucked the blankets around him securely and touched the back of her hand to his forehead. He felt ever so slightly cooler, and it eased some of the tension in her shoulders. "Sleep well," she said.  
He reached for her, his slim muscular arms sliding around her neck. "G'night, Mom," he said. "Thanks."

Valka couldn't breathe for a moment. Hiccup fit against her easily, as easily as he had fit in her arms when he was a baby, his cheek against her collarbone and his head snug under her chin. "You're welcome," she murmured, kissing the top of his head.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I really wish we knew more about Stoick raising Hiccup alone. Like how did that turn out, with the biggest, roughest, manliest, Vikingest Viking in the world raising a baby alone? It's amazing Hiccup survived. Just...imagine baby Hiccup getting sick and Stoick taking care of him. Imagine baby Hiccup waking up with a bad dream in the middle of the night and needing Stoick to snuggle him and tell him it's okay. Imagine baby Hiccup falling and scraping his knee and needing Stoick to patch him back up. Imagine baby Hiccup wanting to play when Stoick has Important Chief things to do, but he plays with him anyway.

My biggest _biggest _headcanon is that baby Hiccup is scared shitless of dragons. Absolutely positively terrified. He's scared of the plush dragon Valka made (which absolutely breaks Stoick's heart) and during dragon raids Hiccup is a MESS. Like literally wet his pants, scream bloody murder, hide under the bed kind of mess. And Stoick can't stay with him to keep him safe, and no one else wants to watch him, so baby Hiccup is left alone and scared during raids.

(Maybe I need to write more drabbles.)

And then, of course, I have the powerful need to write a story where Valka was never taken, because that would change everything. Caroline (Writer for the Tylwythteg on ; we've become friends!) were talking about this, although we were talking about the universe she started and we now work on together- it's a modern!AU where Hiccup has Crohn's disease and Astrid has brain cancer. Valka is the quiet nurturer, who knows when to give Hiccup space and when he needs to have her close, and she's the one he goes to when he's hurt or sick or upset or just needs someone to listen. Stoick is the protector, the one who gives advice and wants the best for his son and teaches him how to be a good chief someday. And they just can't switch from those places. And so in canon Hiccup grows up with all of the protecting and advice-giving, and he knows his father loves him, but he doesn't have his mother to listen to him and offer her counsel and comfort. So I'm fully planning on writing a story where she stays, so we get to see him grow up with both parents, and we also get to see how everything with dragons ends up. I've got a bunch of plot bunnies going, including one scene I'm REALLY excited about that involves five-year-old Hiccup nearly getting killed by rival Vikings and Valka being the most badass of Viking queens...but yeah. Anyone want to read that?

And this drabble series is nearly done! And it's going to have a bonus chapter, because the beautiful axonmanage on tumblr drew a GORGEOUS comic for me and I wanted to do something for her. And it's going to be cute.

**Next chapter: quirks or hobbies**


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How to Train Your Dragon, Drama, Humor