Son of the Chief

In the largest house on Berk, Stoic the Vast was sitting stoking the flames of his hearth, only he looked like the shell of the man he once was.

Not physically, no, he still possesses his might strength that subdues all sorts of Dragons. It was his eyes, they are filled with grief, sadness and desperation, all starting from the day he lost his wife.

While just staring at the flames, Stoick began speak. Not to himself, but to his lost wife. "I don't know what to do... Ever since the day I lost you, I've been lost as well. Eight winters have already passed and it just keeps getting worse, I dont know how to help our son-"

"AAHHH!!!"

Jumping to his feet at the all too familiar scream of anguish, stoick practically jumped down some nearby stairs leading to a basement that had been specially built by his best friend, Gobber.

The purpose? To be the bedroom of Stoick's youngest and most unfortunate child.

"Thrawn!" The red haired man shouted the name of his second born as he came to the bottom of the stairs and banged on a thick wooden door that had multiple heavy locks.

'Thrawn' was the name his wife chose for their youngest son, saying that it was a strong name fit for a warrior, just like she believed he was destined to be. Unfortunately, this cherished memory didn't cross his mind as he quickly began to panic when he didn't here a response and starting to hurriedly undo the locks.

He desperately wanted to simply smash through the door, but he had to think before acting. Things were bad enough as they were. Ever since losing his mother, Thrawn was unable to eat. Not for a lack breast milk, there were plenty enough women in the village that were feeding at the time. No, the problem arose just a few minuted into the boys first feeding from another woman.

What happened was horrific to put bluntly, as just when enough time had passed for baby Thrawn to have his fill, he suddenly broke into tears and wailed in pain, meanwhile blood that was thick and black like tar, was seeping out of every hole in the poor babies head. This has been happening for years and anything he has eaten since has only aggravated his condition.

After that, no person wanted to go near Thrawn, let alone be a wet nurse for him. Even Stoick was restricted in how much access he can get with him, everyone having demanded it be so, 'for his safety', as it was widely believed that the child had some kind of disease and no one wanted it to spread.

It took a lot of his influence as the Chief just to get everyone to not throw Thrawn away. He's not even supposed to open the door, but he cared more about his son than that at the moment, it was obvious even to him that it wasn't spreading anyways.

But, as he undid the last lock and pulled a bolt to open the door, he was stopped by the weak voice of his son. "I'm... fine, Dad..."

Thrawn knew very well just how disliked he was and was also under the impression that if his Father opens the door, he will get sick because of himself.

Stoick had the desire to go inside anyways and take care of Thrawn, but just as he was thinking of pulling open the door, he heard a shout from outside. "Dragon attack!"

Conflicted, he froze, he wanted to comfort his son, but the village should always come first. Having to remind himself of this, Stoick shouted through the heavy wooden door. "There a Dragon attack, but I'll be back Son, don't worry." With that said and little time to spare, Stoick had to run back up the stair to join the fight, not having the time to do the unnecessary number of locks, but also forgetting to slid the bolt lock back at the same time...

---

Inside the basement, there was a small boy wrapped in furs leaning up against a wall with a bucket next to him. His appearance was little more than skin and bones, his stomach caved in from starvation. What should be full cheeks had sunken inwards, lips cracked and dry, while his eyes had dark bags beneath them from never getting to sleep.

Black gunk was seeping out of every orifice of his face, straight into the bucket beside him. His light brown hair was filthy and his icy blue eyes hollow from his never-ending misery.

He had just eaten the half bowl of porridge that is given to him each week, not because of cruelty, but to reduce the amount of food he has to eat.

Each time he ate, he had to go through the same tortuous experience of feeling like his insides were boiling, his bones breaking and repairing, again and again.

He had tried to not eat at all and went what he was told was three weeks, during which he didn't spew black stuff out his face, but had to deal with the constant pain of hunger. Though, it's not like he understands the passage of time in his confinement. It was easier to think of it as three feeding times than days or weeks.

Unfortunately, his father discovered that he hadn't been eating when he stopped hearing anything from the basement and feared that he was dead, so had broke the rules and opened the door. This caused quite a lot of trouble for his father when it was found out.

Despite his father keeping him in this hole, Thrawn doesn't resent him. He might be cut off from the rest of the world, but he is surprisingly wise for his age and that allowed him to understand from an even younger age that his father was putting a lot on the line for him, that he loved him.

What he did resent, was his own weakness caused by the damned disease he was told he has and had no cure. How he wished that his suffering would end, to have the luxury of seeing his own brother that he'd only heard through the door, but most of all... To see the world and experience the wonders it had!

"But that won't ever happen-!?" Just as he was speaking his woes, he heard a creak and looked nervously at the door that slowly creeped open. His mind raced as he anxiously stared at the unfamiliar light an thought to himself. 'Dad didn't lock the door?... Is someone coming in? No, there's a Dragon attack, no one could be free enough. Then...'

As he continued watch, he was shocked to see...!! Nothing. No one was there, the heavy door had apparently opened on it's own.

For some strange reason, Thrawn felt a compulsion to leave and he wanted to, but he was afraid. Afraid that if he leaves, he could give the disease he has to the whole village, to his father or brother.

So, he sat there unable to decide whether to go out. On one side, he wished to see the outside world at least once, but on the other, he didn't want to infect anyone. But then, the idea struck. "What if I leave the village?"

If he just left the village, he wouldn't get anyone sick ever. He could leave and never eat anything again, the pain of hunger is better than what he gets from eating. This was the line of thought that lead him to make a decision.

He was going to leave. For good.

With a trembling form, he pulled himself up and used the wall for support as he made his way out of the room. His body was screaming in pain, but he kept going and began climbing the stairs.

Upon reaching the top, he swayed in place, almost falling back down. He couldn't afford for that to happen however, so he threw himself forwards. It felt as though his body was being torn apart as he exerted himself to begin crawling out of the door to the outside, which was strangely open aswell.

The wooden floor did not treat him well in his endeavours, splinters tore his arms and legs to shreds. But he persevered, the pain was nothing compared to what he'd already experience. He clenched his eyes shut and kept on crawling, not noticing the change of terrain until his body gave out, at which point he was lying flat on his face and breathing harshly.

He want to rest, but knew that if he wanted to get away, then he had to be quick. Pushing himself back up, he paid no attention to his arms that had healed during his breather.

Making his way over to a nearby post, Thrawn pulled himself to his feet. He looked around to figure out which way he should go to escape, seeing only a shear cliff into what he remembers being called the sea. Across the village, there was his exit, a wood plank and rope bridge.

Seeing how much of a distance he had to cover, Thrawn felt disheartened, but his attention was swept away when through the fire and smoke, for the first time in his life he witnessed the beautiful night's sky filled with stars.

His mind went blank as he looked up with awe, his feet started to carry him forward without thought. "Amazing..." He whispered as nothing else seemed to matter around him. In the process, he made his way into a clearing and stood still while gazing at the sky.

Completely unaware of his surroundings, he had no idea that he had been seen or by who. "THRAWN!!!" So when he heard a booming voice of his father, followed by a low growl that came from behind, he didn't even know what was happening as everything suddenly turned dark.

"THRAWN, NOOO!!!" From a distance, Stoick screamed with despair and anger. He had just seen his sick son wandering out into a clearing, whose room he only now realised he'd left unlocked, and he was horrified.

Whenever there's a dragon attack, all of the villages children are hidden and protected in the Great Hall being watched over by a couple of assigned adults. So, upon seeing a small boy wander into a clearing, Stoick knew that it couldn't have been anyone but his sick son and had begun to run to his boys aid.

Unfortunately, he was not destined to save his son, as with each step, a dragon appeared to intercept him. And as he dealt with the scaled vermin, he was unable to do anything even as a Monstrous Nightmare creeped up behind his boy and.... ate him.

First his wife and now his son, Dragons have taken them both and he was angry. "RAHH!!!" With an enraged roar, Stoick began literally tearing dragons apart, breaking their bones and cutting their wings off. "KILL THEM ALL!!!"

---

'What happened?...' A confused thought drifted through the mind of a small boy. He was trapped in a cramped space with springy walls that are warm and wet. He tried to move, but found the room available limited. 'What is this? Was I eaten? But I'm still alive... ugh, my body tingles...-!?'

Thrawn suddenly, but quickly realised that if he was eaten and inside the stomach of a dragon, then he was pretty much bathing in its highly corrosive stomach acid that just about all dragons have to digest whatever prey they snap up.

Even so, Thrawn's situation didn't worry him. 'This doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would...' He thought to himself, not minding as his body was being dissolved, all because he knew that he would heal. He always does.

Sometimes, his father would tell him about the day he was born, that the gods had bestowed life to him when stillborn and that it was blessing. Only his father and himself know about his regenerative prowess, but only his father believes it be a blessing, as it is possibly the only thing keeping him alive. But he feels it is a curse.

He can't seem to die, no matter how much pain he felt and no matter how much he wished it would end, he would at most pass-out only to wake up a few seconds later. All because he ate the smallest bit of food, something he hated, but wished he could do normally.

'If only I could actually eat something...' His body was weak and he is lying in the guts of a dragon while slowly dissolving, and that's why he was confused by his next thought. 'Something smells good...' Although confused, he didn't let it stop him as he tried to take a deep breath, only for his eyes to widen with a strange gleam in them. 'Really, REALLY good!!'

After taking that first breath, he felt his heart beat quicker and harder than he had ever felt it go. His stomach rumbled and mouth watered, he had no idea what came over him, but he followed one of the most basic instincts of all creatures... To EAT!

His mouth widened and then he bit down on the only thing he could, the stomach of the dragon that ate him. Even though he felt so weak, his teeth tore straight through the dragons flesh and the moment the juicy, bloody piece of meat touched his tongue, it was like an explosion of unexplored flavour and he wanted more.

A ravenous hunger awoke inside him and he began taking bite after bite, swallowing chunks of the meat without care. For the first time in his life, he WANTS to eat and it didn't hurt to do so. Instead, he felt as though he was being filled with life. So he kept going.

---

Outside the belly of the beast, Stoick the Vast, was more like Stoick the Bloodthirsty. His face was warped in a blood soaked snarl, he was on a rampage in pursuit of the dragon that took his son from him, any dragon that had got in his way was ripped apart with his bare hands.

Dozens of torn up dragon body's lay in his wake, one that continued to grow as he grabbed dragons out of the air, even as they began trying to escape.

"WHERE ARE YOU, BEAST!?" He shouted in rage, jumping onto a fleeing Monstrous Nightmare in vengeful hope it was the that ate his son, only to hatefully rip the beasts head off when he saw the difference. "WHERE ARE YOU!?"

Keeping a large distance from their wrathful Chief, other Vikings fought fearfully, not of the dragons they were at war with, but that they would be caught in the warpath of their own Chief.

"ROAR!!!" Suddenly, on the outskirts of the horde of dragons, a Monstrous Nightmare reared its ugly mug and roared loudly. It began to thrash around as if it had lost its mind, using its hind legs to scratch at its stomach as if trying to dig into its own flesh to remove something.

Hearing the dragon from a distance, Stoick's head rose and his eyes narrowed in on the beast, which he immediately recognised and began charging towards it with rage.

Tearing through any dragons in his way, which seemed to be covering for the damned beast, Stoick had one thought on his mind. 'I'LL KILL YOU!!'

As he made his way through the swarm of dragons, a Gronckle was in his immediate sight and coward looking up at him. Stoick thought nothing of it in his pursuit of revenge, he punched down with his massive fist and bloodied the face of the Gronckle.

Taking the disorientated dragon by the head with both hands, he swung it like a club and smacked Deadly Nadder to the ground, before slamming down with the Gronckle, leaving it either dead or dying.

He the threw the Gronckle away, where it smashed into some more of its kind. But that was just so he could grab the Nadders head, using the deadly horns on the back of its head as a weapon, as with a spin, he stabbed into the neck of one of the two that belong to a Hideous Zippleback. One was enough to kill it, in a short amount of time, the second head would no longer be able maintain the body and would die. But why wait?

Continuing with his thrust, he stabbed through the first neck and plunged the Nadders thorns into the head of the second.

One after another, dragons fell and finally, he had arrived. The beast that hadn't stopped writhing in pain since a while ago, the one that ate his son. Seeing the creature sprawled weakly on the ground, with deep cuts on its side from its own claws, Stoick couldn't help spitefully speaking. "It's good to see eating my son isn't agreeing with you, filthy beast!" He grabbed an axe that he saved especially for this kill, raised it high and said. "Now, DIE!-"

As he was about to swing his axe down, he had a fixed stare on the dragon and realised that it had already died.

When the Monstrous Nightmare died, the other dragons all raised their heads as they felt something and then quickly began to flee. Almost as if this specific dragon had been in charge, and seeing the leader dead, they decided to scurry away back to the hole they came out of.

Stoick lowered his axe and just stood staring at the dragon that not only took his son, but also his chance at vengence by dying.

Slowly, with all the dragons fleeing, the Vikings of Berk began to gather behind their Chief, awaiting orders to begin rebuilding. Some of them felt for Stoick, but some couldn't care less as they began muttering amongst themselves.

"It's a good thing that cursed child is gone." One old man said while beside a muscular man with greasy black hair.

"I know. I bet it was that sickness that killed the dragon." The greasy man snorted snidely.

"Yeah. At least he was good for something-!!?" The old man said distainfully, only to have to hurriedly duck as an axe flew past his head.

The axe belonged to Stoick, who lost all his decorum as the Chief hearing them speaking I'll of his child, and had turned to them with a dark expression. "You have something to say about my son?..." He began to walk towards them, making them take a step back with every one of his, but after just a few steps he stopped.

*chomp**squelch**crack**crunch*

A combination of sound began to enter their ears, looking for the source, their heads all turned to the body of the Monstrous Nightmare, its stomach was bulging and distorting.

Through one of the cuts the dragon itself made, a hole started to open up and they thought they were about to bare witness the birth of some godforsaken creature, when out burst a human child, a feral expression made worse by the chunk of meat clench firmly in his mouth with his teeth exposed.

"T-Thrawn...?" Shocked, relieved, concerned and confused, the name of his son exited the mouth Stoick. Rightfully so, as he watch as his son paid no attention to him, rather turning to the dragon which he escaped and biting into it corpse like a wild animal, not stopping even for the bones.

The most impactful aspect of the sight, was the tattoo's on Thrawn's body that were pulsing with a red light as he ate, his decrepit body slowly beginning to fill out.

Observing the scene, the villagers backed away, afraid that they might catch his unknown disease or that the little demon would turn his sights to them.

Feeling a sudden emboldenment, the old man from before stepped up and began trying to incite the crowd. "You see! You see!! The brat is a Demon! A Demon I tell you!!"

"Mildew..." With a dark tone and expression, Stoick turned back around and stared at the old fool who couldn't stand without his staff. Everyone who saw their Chief's domineering demeanor, one sick of adhering to their demands, slowly backed away.

Unaware to the desertion, the old man, Mildew, pointed at Stoick with courage from thinking he had support. "Don't think you can protect that monster again, Stoick! You've already put us in danger just by keeping it locked beneath you house! You're a disgrace and are no longer fit to be the Chief!! The Demon must die!!!"

Everyone there gasped in shock at his claim. They had been plenty upset by their Chief having his sick son to stay in the village, but it was his son after all and they still respected him as their Chief. With maybe the odd exception, who was just shocked that Mildew actually said it.

But among the shock, there was someone who heard what was said and became enraged. All anyone heard was *Crack* and no one understood what or how it happened, all they saw was Mildew fall back with something pierced into his stomach.

---

As soon as Thrawn escaped the stomach of the Monstrous Nightmare that ate him, he couldn't help turning around and sinking his teeth back into the juicy dragon flesh. He couldn't help it, it made him feel so good, like all the pain up until this point in his life was worth it to taste something so delicious.

The more he ate, the better he felt. His body felt like it was changing, becoming healthier, bigger and stronger. He no longer felt the weakness that usually kept him incapacitated, rather he was tearing chunks of meat off the body with both his teeth and hand, desperately cramming his mouth as full as he could and not even choking.

With his bodily improvements, his senses were heightened and his thoughts became more clear the more he filled himself. So even as he ate, he heard exactly what Mildew was saying about him, but he didn't care.

When Mildew insulted his father however, even though he was mid bite, he stopped. His body began trembling, his father was basically everything to him, he was the man who risked everything to be able to take care of him.

Without thought, his hand took hold of an extremely pointy rib and under his shaking grip, it suddenly snapped off and he instinctively flung his arm back, releasing the rib. It spun through the air at an impressive speed, which made it go unnoticed as a sudden attack as it quickly made the distance and the pointed end of the rib stabbed into old man Mildews stomach like a knife through butter.

Turning around with a feral snarl, he glared at the villager, his pupils pulsing with the same red glow as his tattoo's and a manic gleam. "Nobody calls my father a disgrace!!"

A chill ran down the spines of the villagers as they gulped, for some reason they felt a suppression when being stared at by Thrawn, like they were being eyed by a ferocious predator that wanted to eat them.

Seeing their cowardly behaviour, Thrawn felt distain for them in his heart, as if something deep inside was telling him that they are inferior. This made him quickly lose interest with their existence, so with no one possessing the courage to even continue looking at him and the main offender dead, he turned back around and continued to dine on the delicious meat before him.

Everyone had no choice but to silently watch him feast, but after a minute of watching the display, Stoick gave an order. "All of you, if your house is intact, take your children from the Great Hall and return home. If your home is gone, stay in the Great Hall. We will rebuild tomorrow."

Hearing the order, many left to find out if their homes were intact, but a few lingered. One of which was the greasy haired man, who gathered what little courage he seemed to have to say. "Well Stoick, what are you going to do with that Dem-"

"I SAID-" Stoick roared as he turned around with a fierce expression that match well with his sons, before controlling himself and stating with a no nonsense tone. "Leave."

Not wanting to test Stoicks patience again, the remaining villagers besides one left. The one that remained was Gobber, Stoicks best friend.

He approached Stoick and carefully asked. "Are you okay, Stoick?" He never seen his friend like this, like he wanted to tear apart every last one of the villages people.

"Just leave me be, I'm not in the mood." Stoicks said with clear restraint in his voice, like a volcano ready to erupt. But also added. "Go take care of Hiccup. Make sure he's okay." He couldn't forget about his other son after all.

Gobber opened his mouth to say something, but simply sighed instead and looked down. He began to go do as his Chief demanded, giving a glance to the boy he'd always felt pity for, but now couldn't give words to how he felt about.

This left Thrawn and Stoick alone. Thrawn, tearing into a dead dragon. And Stoick, standing behind him, just watching, as if wishing to stay in the moment of being able to actually see his son and not just talk to him through a door. It was such a simple thing, but the the moment was everything to him...