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