Ch 1 Thunder

In the far North, there exists an island, the Isle of Berk. A cold and harsh environment, rough for even the most hardy to survive in. The food is tough, bland and never seems to change, but those that inhabit this place and adapt to these conditions... are even more so.

There are two season throughout the year, six months of summer and six months of winter. On the 29th day of February, a bit more than half way through another harsh, but manageable winter, there is the sight of large, beefy men and women, with the rare lean individuals, all moving about in their settlement. These people are Vikings and their settlement is their Village, a Viking Village.

The Village is the home of the Hooligan Tribe, otherwise known as Berkians in respect to the island they'd laid down their roots over 300 years ago.

These Vikings were clad in leather and iron armours, with animal fur felt wrapped around the shoulders and/or waists to give them some warmth in the blistering cold.

Currently, the Viking men and women were moving between wooden structures, buildings and towers of various uses. They were making repairs these structure, from small patch jobs to complete replacements of entire walls, there wasn't a single old building in the entire village. It was hard work, but nothing they weren't used to.

Throughout their work, there was the howling sounds of the wind, accompanied by the pained screaming and cursing of a women that came from the largest of all the buildings in the village. As the largest of buildings, this could only be the home of their leader, their Chief.

Inside the residence of the Chief, there were several women of varying shapes and a single large, muscular man. The man was the one and only Chief of the Hooligan Tribe, a big man with green eyes and red hair, Stoick the Vast, possessing a big bushy beard that matches his his hair. His red hair is braided at the back and the trend of braiding carries on his beard, complexly woven to a majestic display.

Stoick is not the centre of focus however, no, that was his wife, Valka. Valka is a tall slender woman with auburn hair kept in three separate knotted braids behind her back and has a fair complexion complimented by her green eyes. Though at this moment, her face was warped with pain and her hair drenched with sweat.

The other women in the room are merely villagers, besides one elderly woman, Gothi. She has a short and scrawny figure and an obvious hunch. She has thick wavy gray hair held in two braids. But the important thing about her, is that she is the Village Elder, their Wise Woman. Her roles include using her wisdom to make decisions for the village, acting as village healer, and officiating new chief and marriage ceremonies.

At this moment, Gothi was situated at the end of a large bed that Valka was lying on, kneeling between the younger woman's legs as she took sharply inhales and then immediately exhaled in-between painful screaming. At this time, Valka was giving birth to her first child and suffering in the process.

There was a lot of anxiety among those present, because there was still some time before Valka should have given birth, and a premature birth was basically a death sentence for any child, especially with the harsh conditions of Berk.

But, no amount of anxiety is able to keep a Viking woman down. "AAHHHHH!!! DAMN YOU STOICK!! YOU DID THIS TO MEEE-AHHHH!!!" Valka screamed out, wishing to tear a chunk out of her husband for his transgressions of impregnating her.

To the angry woman's side, Stoick was tenderly holding his wife's dainty hand in his beefy hands, staring at her face with tenderness and affection one usually didn't see from him. "Come on, Love. You can do it, I'm here for you." Valka barely heard him as she screamed, pushing as hard as she could, all while squeezing the hand of Stoick with all her might.

As a battle hardened warrior, Stoick had a body forged for taking as much of a beating as he could dish out, so he didn't bat an eye over her otherwise crushing grip.

Fortunately for Valka though, that push was what it took to finally get the child she was carrying to come out and into the world. There was some anxiety over the child's condition for both parents, but that was when Gothi smacked the child on its bottom, forcing him to take his first breath.

The elderly woman then handed the child to one of the other women, who took care of cleaning the newborn and then wrapping him in warm furs.

While that was being done, Valka was tiredly panting as she tried to catch her breath. But, that wasn't an option as she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach, like a sword had been run through her, and screamed out once more, with such volume that everyone in the village heard it and stopped to look at the Chiefs house.

She screamed for close to a minute without stop, blood spilling from her lower region, before she finally stopped and fell as if she fainted. Stoick caught her body as she went limp, her face pale and body growing cold, causing him to shout. "Bring the brazier closer! Quick!!"

A couple of the women jumped and ran over with a brazier, going as far as to throw in an extra log to fuel it longer. Another one of the women approached with a cup of warm yak milk, carefully placing it at Valka's mouth and helping her take small sips.

It took some time, but Valka's complexion began to improve and she regained some energy, which she immediately used to make her request. "Bring... Bring my baby, I want to hold him..."

Immediately, they brought the child over while wrapped up warm, handing him to the tired mother. Holding her baby, Valka teared up and started cooing to him. "Hello there. I'm your mother, my sweet baby boy." Holding him like the most fragile thing in the world, seeing how small he was, she was afraid she would break him. She then looked at her husband and saw him with barely noticeable tears of joy. "What should we call him, Stoick?"

"Hiccup... His name will be Hiccup." He said emotionally, happy to have his son safely born. Even if he was smaller and weaker than normal from being premature, Stoick had full belief that he would become a fine man and worthy Chief.

Unfortunately however, not all was well, as he saw Gothi hobble over with saddened expression. She looked up at the tall man and shook her head gloomily, before turning her gaze and looking towards small bundle, which some of the other women were surrounding and looking at with sadness.

Stoick inhaled a shaky breath, only for it to get caught in his throat and a sense of devastation washed over him. And due to his reaction, Valka was quick to pick up on the tense atmosphere and directed her gaze in the same direction, causing her to cover her mouth with a gasp and begin crying, before releasing a scream of anguish.

---

No knew that Valka was carrying twins, so when woman had been bleeding and unknowingly delivered a second son, it should have been a joyous occasion. But, that didn't seem to be in their fates, as the child was unfortunately stillborn.

A child born without a heartbeat... it's a tragic time for anyone and on Berk, it is a time of mourning for all. The whole village was in attention for the funeral of their Chiefs son that never got a chance at life.

In the centre of the village, a funeral pyre had been erected, with small rock carvings, flowers and herbs surrounding it. The sky above was blanketed with dark clouds and a light rain fell down, as though the heavens weeped with them.

With everyone gathered together, they stood in somber silence, at the front of the gathering was Stoick and Valka. And beside them was Stoick's best friend and most trusted companion, Gobber, a large, muscular, and bald Viking with a long, braided blond mustache and a unibrow. He also wears a prosthetic left arm and right leg.

Gobber stood at Stoick's side and placed his hand on the man's shoulder with sympathy. Stoick could only continue to stare at the constructed pyre with a grim expression, causing Gobber to sigh sadly before taking a step away.

Right beside Stoick, Valka stood with a depressed demeaner, the shock of the whole situation shaking her world. Stoick saw how badly Valka was taking it and wished he could change things, but could only woefully regret that he couldn't .

So, he swallowed his pain and stepped forward while holding a fire torch, saying a few words as he looked at a small bundle in a basket at the base of the pyre. "My child... Though you never got your chance at life, I know in my heart you would have been a great warrior and an even greater son. May The All-Father watch over you and the Valkyries guide you to the next world, so that we may meet when the time comes. Farewe-!!?"

Suddenly, just as Stoick was finishing his goodbye and was about to light the pyre when a bolt of blue lightning fell from the above and struck the pyre, making it burst into flames and caused Stoick to stumble back. A loud boom erupted from the clouds and the earth seemed to tremble. This was followed by another two roaring explosions of thunder, with which the sea and sky seemed on the verge of splitting apart.

Everyone stood in shock of what happened, having clearly seen the miraculous moment and become awe struck by the scene, like Thor himself had sent his Divine lightning to light the pyre, while striking his mighty hammer Mjolnir against his anvil, the resulting booms of thunder like the beating of drums in the child's honour. (A/N: For Norse Mythology nerds, I don't know if Thor has an anvil, because I couldn't find much info on it. There was some quote about thunder being the sound of Thor striking an anvil."

But that wasn't all, as another lightning bolt zipped down onto the pyre and caused the ground to crack, before another three booms sounded and the earth shook fiercely, making everyone's eyes widen as they struggled to stay standing. And finally, a third bolt slammed down as the sky rumbled thrice more, the sea raged and the wind bellowed... and then it all stopped.

All those in attendance could only stare in silence, their mouth hung open in disbelief. But, one person in particular had a look of pure awe as her eyes never left the pyre. To Gothi, the Wise Woman of the Tribe and a spiritualist that is said to interpret the Will of the God's, this was no less than the Divine intervention from the God's, of Thor himself. Nine bouts of Thunder and Three bolts of Lightning.

Three and Nine, they are sacred numbers for Vikings such as them. The number 3 is of importance in many instances, like how it was the three God's, Odin and his two brothers that created the first humans. While the number 9 is obvious, just as there are the nine realms, there were nine thunderous booms in the sky. What the meaning was, other than being an auspicious omen, was a mystery to even her however. At least until...

"WAAHHHH!!!" A babies cry rang out from inside the flames. For a time, besides the sound of the rain, roaring flames and the cries of a child, there was no sound. Shock and bewilderment, there was no one there that could believe their ears, but in a few short moments something clicked in the heads of two individuals.

Stoick and Valka, without taking a second longer, they rushed into the flames fearlessly. Stoick used his mighty frame and accompanying strength to slam through the burning logs, sending them flying.

Valka immediately started to dig through the ashes of the pyre, searching for the source of this cries and soon pulled the still crying child out of the embers. She was horrified to see the charred skin and exposed muscles of her baby, only for immense shock to take over as she saw the damaged skin to repair slowly.

When the now animate child's body was completely renewed, his wails abruptly stopped and he seemingly fell asleep in the arms of his mother. Across his body was an array of tattoos, Norse Runes inscribed upon him, but unreadable to most.

Seeing their child miraculously alive, they didn't care about any of the previous chaotic events and took it as a blessing from the God's, embracing their son and each other.

---

The sudden rebirth of Stoick and Valka's child had the Village abuzz with all kinds of chatter, some saying that the God's had blessed the child and that it was a sign Berk was going to enter a time of prosperity.

Stoick and Valka cared only for the fact that their children were both alive and healthy. Their lives were going well and they haven't had any attacks to deal with for some time.

A few months passed by like this and the village indeed began to flourish, animals were healthy, fish filled their nets and there wasn't a foe in sight.

But, as the saying goes; all good things must come to an end. That end was signalled by the battle horns being blown and the sky being lit with flaming towers. That was all unnecessary however, as the roaring of their enemies was more than enough for the Vikings of Berk to know what was coming as they roared in response. "DRAGONS!!!"

Yup, their enemies are dragons. Scaly, flying beasts of varying shapes and sizes, with sharp claws and teeth that can shred through flesh like cheap parchment, and if those don't take you out, you have to watch out for the flames and other elements that the beasts spew from their gaping maws.

The people of Berk were more than used to battling these ferocious creatures, generations having spent the last 300 years fighting, analysing and killing them. Over the years, each dragon that had been encountered and subsequently slain had been catalogued in a treasured book that all Berkians know of, The Book of Dragons.

As the two roaring sides clashed, with the superior knowledge of their foes and appropriate weaponry, the brave Vikings were striking down dragon after dragon.

By banging their weapons off their shields, they disorientated the dragons with their heightened senses. This gave way for their comrades to jump on the closest of the beasts, either throwing weighted nets over them to trap them or simply drive their blades into the most vulnerable point of their tough bodies, though it usually just lead to the weapon becoming dull and distorted.

Some didn't care for such tactics, instead choosing to use their physical prowess to throw bolas, throwing implements made of weights on the end on interconnected cords, using them to knock the occasional dragon out of the sky by ridding their wings all mobility.

It wasn't entirely in their favour of course, some dragons showed greater intelligence than others and when the Vikings weren't expecting it, a wave of fire swept over them and burnt them to a crisp. For the Vikings fast enough to react, they were able to at least survive by raising their shields or narrowly jump away, usually leaving them with burns ranging from manageable to incapacitating.

All over the Village, building were ablaze and Vikings were throwing buckets of water to douse the flames, only for another blast of fire to blow the building to pieces.

In the largest building though, the Chiefs house, there was a large hole in the roof through which a large four winged dragon was crawling inside. Valka saw this and her heart stopped, concern for her children brought about resolve and she ran as fast as she could to protect her kids.

On Berk, Valka can be considered a bit of a weirdo, believing that dragons were more than mindless beasts that destroy and kill. She had tried and tried to convince her fellow Vikings to try to get along with dragons, but all for naught.

But now, when the moment arrived and with her motherly instincts driving her, none of that mattered. Her children were in danger and she would do anything to keep them safe.

So, bursting through the entrance to her home, she grabbed a sword the moment she got inside, prepared to slay the scaly beast. However, instead of seeing a horrifying sight of her children being mauled, it was the complete opposite.

Her children were perfectly fine. The tattooed child was devoid of fear and sleeping peacefully, while her other child... Was giggling happily while holding the claw of the intruder dragon she came to slay, which rather than showing hostility towards the babies, appeared curious and gentle.

Seeing this, everything she had thought about dragons was proven true. They aren't just beasts that kill everything, they could be gentle... they could be friendly.

Suddenly, the dragon in front of her realised it wasn't alone and turned to her with slitted pupils, accidentally leaving a scratch on the chin of her baby boy and causing him to cry loudly. With the dragon beginning to slowly near her, Valka was still nervous and backed into a support pillar with her sword weakly raised, but the dragon didn't care and began sniffing at her.

As the dragon caught the scent of the woman, its pupils enlarged, giving off a gentle and friendly impression. Valka saw the gentleness in the creatures eyes that shine with intelligence.

Valka stared in awe and admiration, this magnificent creature, it might be possible to live in peace with them as she hoped.

Just as she and the dragons faces were inches apart, staring into each others eyes with shared curiosity, an axe was thrown between them and landed in the wall.

Both the dragon and Valka were startled by the sudden intrusion, only now hearing the one responsible, who was none other than the Chief himself. The dragon turned with slitted pupils and roared, beginning to spew fire at Stoick, who jumped and rolled out of the way.

The fire immediately spread to the wooden house and the dragon moved to follow the man, but Valka rushed to grab the wing of the angered dragon and tried to pull it away.

Stoick looked through the flames and shouted to his wife. "Hold on!" He then jumped through the fire towards his children, picking them both up in one arm and quickly turning to the dragon with his weapon ready. But, what he found was his beloved being carried off by said dragon, far away from the island and into the night.

Around him, his home was falling apart, both literally and figuratively. He could only watch as the love of his life was taken from him, his eyes tracking the fading silhouette until he couldn't see it any longer, before falling to his children resting within his arms.

But, as much as he needed to grieve, Stoick was the Chief and his people need him to be strong at all times, especially now that the fighting was over and the Village needs rebuilt. He would grieve in his own time...