The Great Idea

The yak chops were one of Snotlout’s favorite dishes, and Hiccup had finagled two of them. The booty lay spread on the ground: oat bread, apples, fish stew, and some mutton.

“Hiccup, how did you ever figure this out?” Snotlout tore off a hunk of still-warm bread, then bit into his chop.

Hiccup used a chicken leg to point at his dragon. “Toothless.”

“Whaddya mean, Toothless?”

“I caught him cadging at the kitchen door. Quicklegs bought his sad-hopeful-hungry act, and he got half a salmon and a large cod out of the deal. Anyway, she inspected me, told me I needed a good feed, gave me a bowl of fish stew and some chicken, then told me to come back again and she’d have more. I grew four inches in three months, and had to lengthen my leg twice.” The greedy reptile sucked down his last tarbot—Toothless ate better than he did—and started on the herring. “No one comes behind Mead hall when they can eat inside.”

“That’s why you finally grew—I thought you were going to be a pipsqueak all your life. I need to get her to feed me, or at least stop feeding you. You’re tall enough, and I don’t plan to be shorter than you are.” Snotlout sprawled on the grass, taking a bite of the bread and savoring the flavor. “I can’t believe I didn’t know about this.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Hiccup reached into Toothless’ saddlebags and pulled out two tankards, passing one to Snotlout. “I even brought ale for us.”

“Thanks. So, why am I here, anyway? If it’s for advice, I can probably help you out. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you to match my greatness, but I’m willing to generous to my fishbone cousin and offer lessons in lady-killing.”

“Have you thought about mixing weapons training with flying Hookfang? You know, with a bow or sling?” C’mon, cousin, talk about yourself.

“Of course I have. I don’t know why you didn’t ask before—I could teach fighting from dragonback, y’know.”

“I never thought of that.” Hiccup slapped his hand to his forehead. “Sorry, Snotlout. Here, let me pour you some ale. Tell me what you’d do.”

One mutton leg and a loaf of bread later, Hiccup was listening to Snotlout talk about the benefits of using a mace over a hammer. A full tankard had him sharing bodybuilding tips with Hiccup. He’d mellowed with the food and drink, and Hiccup eased into the real reason he invited his cousin to eat with him.

“Snotlout, I have an idea, but I need your help. I can’t do it without you, and it’s gonna be so sweet when everybody sees what we’ve done. The tribe will be amazed. Gothi will put this into the tribal records, too. I guarantee it.Hel, she probably has a separate Hiccup’s weird ideas section.

“Alright already, just tell me. It’s not like I can shut you up when you’re in word-vomit mode.” Toothless sniggered. “See? Your own dragon agrees with me. So talk.” He refilled his mug and tipped it to his lips.

“I want you to move in with me.”

Snotlout choked.

§ § §

Hiccup stopped thumping his cousin’s back. Snotlout’s recovery took a few minutes, but he could breathe again and didn’t have the horrified look on his face any longer. Hiccup pushed forward. “So, what do you think?”

“You’re insane.”

“Oh, come on, Snotlout. This is brilliant.”

“I know crazy is what you do, but having me move into your house is ridiculous. Why should I? I see you every day, and you always have something you want me to do. ‘Snotlout, we’re practicing maneuvers. Snotlout, my dad wants us to patrol. Snotlout, stop Hookfang from flaming.’ Nag, nag. Now you want me to spend more time with you? No, Hiccup. It’s not happening.”

“First off, we’re all supposed to patrol, and the maneuvers are every two weeks. You just have to look at a schedule. Second, Hookfang is your dragon, and you left him at the docks while the fishing boats returned.”

“I didn’t know the eels would bother him.”

“Every dragon is terrified of them, Snotlout. Having Hookfang panic and flame up at wooden docks with wooden boats was a disaster. I had to explain it to Dad, and he made me repair the docks, because ‘the riders are your responsibility, son, and the blame lies with you.’”

“Yeah, well, not my fault you’re the Chief’s son.”

Hiccup rubbed his forehead. “That’s what I’m trying to talk to you about. Dad’s been shoving Chieftain lessons at me for months, and I’m worried he wants to retire soon. I can hold him off for a while, but he’ll stick me with the job at some point, and I’m not ready.”

“Yeah, um, not news, cuz. I’m not sure I want to live on an island run by Chief Hiccup.”

“Thanks for that, Snotlout. I don’t have a choice in this, but you’re forgetting something. One day, you’re going to be doing Spitelout’s work. Eldest Jorgenson son gets to fight for the tribe and advise the Chief, right? “

“Y’know, I’m not sure my dad would want me to take his job.” He looked nervous.

“I looked it up. The Jorgensons have always supported the Haddock chiefs, from the first generation. Your dad’s not going to let you refuse, and you won’t anyway; it’s part of the job description.”

“Yeah...”

“Now can you listen?” At his cousin’s nod, he began. “One of these days, I’m going to take over from Stoick the Vast, and I’m going to inherit all his advisors. I’m going to be Chief over a bunch of stubborn men twice my age who remember when I couldn’t stand upright.” Snotlout opened his mouth, and Hiccup said, “No leg jokes, okay? Make fun of the prosthetic later. But I’m going to need every advantage I can manage to get. That’s,” he grinned, “why this is such a great idea.”

“Maybe it’s a great idea for you—I mean you get to have me around—but what do I get out of it? Living with your dad is no picnic, and I know you have a bunch of things you probably want from me, so why should I live at your house?”

“Because you’ve seen how well our dads get on. They’re both stubborn...”

“Stoick’s worse.” Snotlout interrupted, grinning. “I’ve seen him with my dad. He’s definitely worse.”

“Yeah, he’s got his own special kind of stubbornness; so does yours. They’ve always had this thing where they kinda like each other, and definitely trust each other, while fighting all the time. Spitelout’s always pushing Dad, questioning his authority, and pointing out how to do it better. Dad doesn’t listen, and has the impatience with all the hassle Spitelout causes, and keeps trying to shut him up. Both of them have an awful temper.”

“Again, Stoick’s worse.”

“I refuse to have that argument; I don’t want either of them mad at me.”

“I still don’t know why this should mean something to me, Hiccup. I want you to tell me what’s in it for me.”

“Well, it gives me a chance to know you better. We’re going to work together for a long time and it would help us get along. Do you want to always be fighting with me?”

“Well, no, not always.” Hiccup rolled his eyes.

“It would be nice to feel good about leaving the island in your charge if I had to go somewhere. The better I know you, the more confidence I can have in you. You’d know I had that confidence and it would be valid, not just me putting you in charge because we’re family.”

“This is still about what’s good for you. Do you have anything to offer me? Huh?”

“You would look good in the eyes of the tribe. Because I trust you, they’ll be more likely to listen to you. You’re a Jorgenson, and that will make the Jorgensens look good. The Jorgenson line has always produced warriors. You’ll be able to fight for the tribe as well as look after it. The senior tribe members will be reassured.”

“I know how to fight and it’ll make the old farts happy, gotcha.”

“You are a good fighter. I’ve seen you train with your dad. You win Thawfest every year. You fought off two massive outcasts with a piece of rod to rescue me from Outcast Island. I don’t say anything about it, but I’m glad to have you on my side.”

“You have a point there; I’m much better than you are, cuz.” He struck a pose, and Hiccup snorted. “What else?”

“It will get you used to the kind of problems a chief has to solve. And,” Hiccup cut him off, “that makes you look capable to my dad. If Stoick the Vast has a council meeting, and you have to substitute for Spitelout, he will take you more seriously. Then the rest of them might listen more—no promises, they’re the council—but it’s worth trying. That’s something you’ve accomplished on your own, but it’ll please your dad. Besides, you’re not going to spend much time with my dad. He has work, we have our own stuff to do, and mostly you’ll see each other at breakfast and bed. You and I will spend time together at home, and, yeah, you’ll have to learn stuff, but, so will I because,” Hiccup’s face split wide, “I’ll be having weapons training with Spitelout.”

“What? You want my dad to teach you how to fight? Why? I mean, not that it’s not a great idea, but why?”

“Look, Spitelout’s got more proficiency with weapons than almost anyone on Berk. How many weapons can he use, Snotlout? I’ve seen him use an axe, a mace, longbows and crossbows, and a sword. I know he’s at least above average with most weapons in the smithy. He’s strong, he’s skilled, and he’s spent years training you.”

“You know how to fight. You’re great with a sword, good with a crossbow, and your longbow is decent. You can defend yourself. You don’t need my dad to train you.”

“I want to learn from him. I’m going to be in every battle we have, and I want to be able to fight with more than I can use right now. I’ve already been lured away and held captive by Alvin. My dad was taken by Dagur the Deranged. I’m valuable because I’m the Heir, and I’m valuable when I become Chief.” Snotlout listened; Hiccup never talked about this stuff, but he’d thought about it a lot, and his voice grew passionate. “I can’t take the risk of being unprepared. I need to learn things I can’t on my own. I’ve grown taller, but I’m never going to be beefy. So I need to build muscle. If I’m alone, I’ll need everything I’ve got. If someone swipes my leg, I still need to fight. I’ll learn anything your dad wants. I don’t want to fight, but I don’t plan to die.” He looked at his cousin, and said in a softer voice, “And I don’t want to get the people around me killed, either.”

“You might want to tell some of that to my dad. He’s good at matching skills with people. You know, there’s going to be a big part of my dad feeling smug ‘cause he’s teaching Stoick’s son. Scoring a point off your old man will never get old.”

“While my father will have Spitelout’s son living in his house, learning from his son, on the duties of a chief. He’ll be thrilled to have that against your dad.”

“Now all we have to do is get them to agree to this.”


“So, let's go over this one more time. What are we doing?”

“Hiccup, relax. It’ll be fine. We’ve got nothing to worry about...but I still think you should go first.”

“Snotlout, I’ll stop worrying when you prove you know the plan. We have to get this right, or it will be a waste of everybody’s time. And, no, I am not going first.” Hiccup’s voice was firm.

“Fine, fine. We talk to our dads and sell them on this idea of yours, which is, by the way, still crazy. I tell my dad he gets to train you with weapons, and you tell Stoick I get to learn about...what was it, again?”

“‘The rigors of being a chief, son,’” is the phrase you’re looking for.” Hiccup drew his chin down to chest and furrowed his brow. Snotlout snorted at the Stoick imitation. The two of them had some problems, but definitely bonded over living with difficult dads.

“Right, I get to live with and learn some chief stuff from you, not Stoick. I’m still not sure he’s gonna buy that. I mean, we’re Jorgensens—why should we care?”

“Tell him you’ll have more opportunity to influence me, to share your great Jorgensen self with me. Make it up, Snotlout. Tell him what he wants to hear. Don’t lie, just let him think he’s winning. That’s what I’m doing. Stoick the Vast gets the upper hand with Spitelout Jorgensen? I’m selling that to my dad. You can, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. So, you tell your dad, then I’ll talk to mine.”

“No, we both talk to them at the same time. I’m not going first, Snotlout. Besides, I thought you were this brave warrior.” Hiccup raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you were easier to live with before you grew. You gain a couple of inches, and now you’re a tyrant.” Snotlout looked at him. “Okay, okay, we tell them at the same time.” He rolled his eyes.

“Great. Come on Snotlout, ‘relax, it’s going to work,’ remember?”

“Shut up, Hiccup.”

§ § §

§ § §

“You’re crazy, Hiccup.”

“Snotlout, it’s not crazy.”

“‘Yes. Yes it is.” His cousin shot him an incredulous look. “I see you every day, and you always have something you want me to do. ‘Snotlout, we’re practicing maneuvers. Snotlout, my dad wants us to patrol. Snotlout, stop Hookfang from flaming.’ Nag, nag. Now you want me to spend more time with you? It’s not happening.” He took a bite from his yak chop and shook his head. “No way.” He sprawled on the grass behind the Mead hall.

“First off, we’re all supposed to patrol, and the maneuvers are every two weeks. You just have to look at a schedule. Second, Hookfang is your dragon, and you told him to wait at the docks. Do you know what it’s like to deal with a bunch angry of fishermen who blame you because it involves a dragon?”

dragon?”

“I didn’t think the eels would bother him.”

“You know they terrify dragons. We went over this three times at the academy, Snotlout.” Hiccup wasn’t going to get angry, he reminded himself. He needed Snot’s cooperation. “You’re supposed to look out for Hookfang. Having him panic and flame up was a disaster. I had to explain it to Dad, and he made me fix the docks, because ‘they need repairing now, and we cannot wait for Snotlout.’”

“Yeah, well, not my fault you’re the Chief’s son.”

Hiccup rubbed his forehead. “That’s what I’m trying to talk to you about. Dad’s been shoving Chieftain lessons at me for months, and I’m worried he wants to retire soon. I can hold him off for a while, but he’ll stick me with the job at some point, and I’m not ready.”

“Yeah, not news, cuz. I’m not sure I want to live on an island run by Chief Hiccup.” Snotlout drank the dregs of his ale—well, Stoick’s good ale—and Hiccup refilled it.

“Thanks for that, Snotlout. I don’t have a choice in this, but you’re forgetting something. One day, you’re going to be doing Spitelout’s work. Eldest Jorgenson son gets to fight for the tribe and advise the Chief, right?”

“Y’know, I’m not sure my dad would want me to take his job.” Hiccup saw him grimace.

“I looked it up. The Jorgensons have always supported the Haddock chiefs, from the first generation. Your dad’s not going to let you refuse, and you won’t anyway; it’s part of the job description.”

“Yeah...”

“Now can you listen?” At his cousin’s nod, he began. “One of these days, I’m going to take over from Stoick the Vast, and I’m going to inherit all his advisors. I’m going to be Chief over a bunch of stubborn men twice my age who remember when I couldn’t stand upright.” Snotlout opened his mouth, and Hiccup said, “No leg jokes, okay? Make fun of the prosthetic later. But I’m going to need every advantage I can manage to get. That’s,” he grinned, “why this is such a great idea.”


“Maybe it’s a great idea for you—I mean you get to have me around—but what do I get out of it? Living with your dad is no picnic, and I know you have a bunch of things you probably want from me, so why should I stay at your house?”

“Because you’ve seen how well our dads get on. They’re both stubborn...”

“Stoick’s worse.” Snotlout interrupted, grinning. “I’ve seen him with my dad. He’s definitely worse.”

“Spitelout’s not much better. They’ve always had this thing where they can’t admit they like each other, but definitely trust each other, while fighting all the time. Spitelout’s always pushing Dad, questioning his authority, and pointing out how to do it better. Dad doesn’t listen, and has the impatience with all the hassle Spitelout causes, and keeps trying to shut him up. Both of them have an awful temper.”

“Again, Stoick’s worse.”

“I refuse to have that argument; I don’t want either of them mad at me.” He bit into a second apple and leaned against Toothless. The kitchen staff at the Mead hall loved the greedy reptile, and he’d scored three large cod and a bunch of herring.

“I still don’t know why this should mean something to me, Hiccup. Tell me what I get from this.”

“Well, it gives me a chance to know you better. We’re going to work together for a long time and it would help us get along. Do you want to always be fighting with me?”

“Well, no, not always.” Hiccup rolled his eyes.

“It would be nice to feel good about leaving the island in your charge if I had to go somewhere. The better I know you, the more confidence I can have in you. You’d know I had that confidence and it would be valid, not just me putting you in charge because we’re family.”

“This is still about what’s good for you. Do you have anything to offer me? Huh?”

“You would look good in the eyes of the tribe. Because I trust you, they’ll be more likely to listen to you. You’re a Jorgenson, and that will make the Jorgensens look good. The Jorgenson line has always produced warriors. You’ll be able to fight for the tribe as well as look after it. The senior tribe members will be reassured.”

“I know how to fight and it’ll make the old farts happy, gotcha.”

“You are a good fighter. I’ve seen you train with your dad. You win Thawfest every year. You fought off two massive outcasts with a piece of rod to rescue me from Outcast Island. I don’t say anything about it, but I’m glad to have you on my side.”

“You have a point there; I’m much better than you are, cuz.” He struck a pose, and Hiccup snorted. “What else?”

“It will get you used to the kind of problems a chief has to solve. And,” Hiccup cut him off, “that makes you look capable to my dad. If Stoick the Vast has a council meeting, and you have to substitute for Spitelout, he will take you more seriously. Then the rest of them might listen more—no promises, they’re the council—but it’s worth trying. That’s something you’ve accomplished on your own, but it’ll please your dad. Besides, you’re not going to spend much time with my dad. He has work, we have our own stuff to do, and mostly you’ll see each other at breakfast and bed. You and I will spend time together at home, and, yeah, you’ll have to learn stuff, but, so will I because,” Hiccup’s face split wide, “I’ll be having weapons training with Spitelout.” Snotlout sat up.

“You want my dad to teach you how to fight? I mean, not that it’s not a great idea, but why?”

“Look, Spitelout’s got more proficiency with weapons than almost anyone on Berk. How many weapons can he use, Snotlout? I’ve seen him use an axe, a mace, longbows and crossbows, and a sword. I know he’s at least above average with most weapons in the smithy. He’s strong, he’s skilled, and he’s spent years training you.”

“You know how to fight. You’re great with a sword, good with a crossbow, and your longbow is decent. You can defend yourself. You don’t need my dad to train you.”

“I want to learn from him. I’m going to be in every battle we have, and I want to be able to fight with more than I can use right now. I’ve already been lured away and held captive by Alvin. My dad was taken by Dagur the Deranged. I’m valuable because I’m the Heir, and I’m valuable when I become Chief.” Hiccup never talked about this stuff, but he’d thought about it a lot, and his voice grew passionate. “I can’t take the risk of being unprepared. I need to learn things I can’t on my own. I’ve grown taller, but I’m never going to be beefy. So I need to build muscle. If I’m alone, I’ll need everything I’ve got. If someone swipes my leg, I still need to fight. I’ll learn anything your dad wants. I don’t want to fight, but I don’t plan to die.” He looked at his cousin, and said in a softer voice, “And I don’t want to get the people around me killed, either.”

“Yeah.” Snotlout’s single slow nod was an echo of Spitelout’s, and Hiccup knew he had his cousin’s agreement. “You might want to tell some of that to my dad. He’s good at matching skills with people. You know, there’s going to be a big part of my dad feeling smug ‘cause he’s teaching Stoick’s son. Scoring a point off your old man will never get old.”

“While my father will have Spitelout’s son living in his house, learning from his son, on the duties of a chief. He’ll be thrilled to have that against your dad.”

“Now all we have to do is get them to agree to this.”

§ § §

“So, let's go over this one more time. What are we doing?”

“Hiccup, relax. It’ll be fine. We’ve got nothing to worry about...but I still think you should go first.”

“Snotlout, I’ll stop worrying when you prove you know the plan. We have to get this right, or it will be a waste of everybody’s time. And, no, I am not going first.” Hiccup’s voice was firm.

“Fine, fine. We talk to our dads and sell them on this idea of yours, which is, by the way, still crazy. I tell my dad he gets to train you with weapons, and you tell Stoick I get to learn about...what was it, again?”

“‘The rigors of being a chief, son,’” is the phrase you’re looking for.” Hiccup drew his chin down to chest and furrowed his brow. Snotlout snorted at the Stoick imitation. The two of them had some problems, but definitely bonded over living with difficult dads.

“Right, I get to live with and learn some chief stuff from you, not Stoick. I’m still not sure he’s gonna buy that. I mean, we’re Jorgensens—why should we care?”

“Tell him you’ll have more opportunity to influence me, to share your great Jorgensen self with me. Tell him the invitation is a mark of honor the whole tribe will see. Tell him it means I want you beside me when my dad dumps this on me. It makes him look good and it’s good for your clan. Make it up, Snotlout. Tell him what he wants to hear. Don’t lie, just let him think he’s winning. That’s what I’m doing. Stoick the Vast gets the upper hand with Spitelout Jorgensen? I’m selling that to my dad. You can, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. So, you tell your dad, then I’ll talk to mine.”

“No, we both talk to them at the same time. I’m not going first, Snotlout. Besides, I thought you were this brave warrior.” Hiccup raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you were easier to live with before you grew. You gain a couple of inches, and now you’re a tyrant.” Snotlout looked at him. “Okay, okay, we tell them at the same time.” He rolled his eyes.

“Great. Come on Snotlout, ‘relax, it’ll be fine,’ remember?”

“Shut up, Hiccup.”

§ § §

Hiccup loved flying, and the early morning flight with Toothless was sacrosanct. He wouldn’t deny them the freedom of flight; charging tens of thousands of feet above land, making a 180 degree turn, and diving back to skim the frigid water. There was no guarantee with Toothless that their time together would be easy for him. His dragon would spin through sea stacks or splash Hiccup with a wing, then laugh. Hiccup would have to think fast on Toothless, to avoid getting fried by a plasma blast. He needed the time they spent together, and sometimes it was the only time Hiccup could be away from...well, everyone. The past few months had been constant; his dad, Stoick the Vast, was dragging Hiccup all over the island, trying to stuff lessons into him. “A chief protects his own.” “No job is too small for the chief’s attention.” “Son, you will be responsible for the entire tribe.” Stoick’s current favorite was “You must know every inch of Berk, son, and everyone on it.” Hiccup felt as if Stoick would look at him one morning, and announce, “I’m done with being a chieftain. It’s your job now, son. Don’t forget to wear the cape.” The man was driving him insane.