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"Hiccup, can we talk?" Stoick asked as his son went to leave the house. Hiccup froze with his hand on the door, leaving it ajar. He’d heard the serious tone in his voice.
"About?" Hiccup turned around, crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't always very open with Stoick about his emotions, but this time, Stoick wanted him to be. He wanted him to be honest with him.
"You should maybe sit," Stoick said.
Hiccup sighed. He stepped over a slumbering Toothless' tail without tripping, then went over to the table and sat across from him. He didn't look at him when he asked: "So, uh, what is it?"
"I want to talk about Viggo," Stoick said. He knew he was poking at some sort of wound doing this, but he had to. He had to know, had to make sure his son was okay.
"Dad, does it matter?" Hiccup asked. "He's dead." His voice almost cracked on the last word. Stoick took note of that.
"It matters to me," Stoick told him. "When we found him after Ryker's attack, he said something that's irked me ever since."
"He has a way of doing that," Hiccup said. He picked at a splinter on the table. "What was it?"
Stoick was shocked that Hiccup didn't remember. Was that because the words that had left Viggo's mouth had become so commonplace as to be ignored?
"He..." Stoick suddenly didn't want to say it, but he had to. "He called you 'my dear'. 'My dear Hiccup.'"
Hiccup's eyes went big for a moment, and he actually looked at Stoick this time. "I..."
"Hiccup, it's alright," Stoick said. "I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with him."
"Anger at a dead man isn't helpful, dad." He turned away in his chair so that his side was facing him. Clearly he didn't want to discuss this - it was hurting, but Stoick needed to know.
"I know, I know. I just need to know if anything ever happened."
Hiccup raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean? Like... like between me and Viggo?"
Stoick nodded.
Hiccup sighed. "No," he responded, and Stoick was flooded with relief. He'd been worried that his son was a victim of sexual assault, and at Viggo's hands no less. "No, nothing happened."
Hiccup still didn't look him in the eye. Was he being honest with him?
"Hiccup, I need you to be honest with me," Stoick said gently.
Hiccup turned his head towards him. "I-I am being honest. He never touched me like that." Stoick couldn't tell if he was looking at his eyes or his eyebrows. It didn't quite feel like eye contact.
But it didn't feel like a lie. That was what mattered.
"He wanted to," Hiccup said. He turned his head back to facing the stairs, pursed his lips. His lower one trembled with the threat of tears. The wound Stoick was poking at must have reopened. "He made that pretty clear in the way he treated me. I was different to him than the rest of the Riders. They were just-just toys to play with. I was another player in his game, not a piece."
Hiccup sniffled. He brought up his arm to wipe at his nose with his sleeve. "And yet I mourn him, dad." He looked at Stoick now, and there was such hopelessness on his face, tears in his big eyes. It broke Stoick's heart. "I-I don't understand, dad! I don't understand!" He threw his arms down onto the table, and his head followed, arms acting as some sort of shield.
Stoick rose from his chair and walked over to Hiccup. He hesitantly laid a hand on his back. He wasn't sure if he was okay with touch. But when Hiccup didn't throw off his hand or tell him not to touch him, he figured it was okay. He left his hand there.
"Hiccup, death is a strange thing," Stoick told him. "And our feelings surrounding it don't always make sense."
"B-but he hurt me," Hiccup said. "He hurt the Riders, Berk, dragons, countless people!" Hiccup lifted his head, stricken. "But th-there, close to the end, h-he said-he said he's always respected m-me. I-I tried to save him, dad. I couldn't. I couldn't save him!"
"Hiccup, it's alright." Stoick put a hand in his hair, and Hiccup pressed his face into Stoick's stomach, crying hard. Stoick had his other hand on Hiccup's shoulder. He hoped his touch and presence was comforting. Toothless had risen at Hiccup's crying and had come over, resting his head in Hiccup's lap, cooing softly. "What matters is that the war is over, and you're safe. You and your friends are safe. Berk is safe."
Hiccup nodded, but Stoick didn't know if he truly believed his words. He would come to, in time.
For now, he just had to grieve the man that had called him "my dear Hiccup."