A Roar Softened

(How to Train Your Dragon)

The perspective of Stoick the Vast- chief, father.

I was born to lead, to raise my shield,
To guard our kin, to never yield.
My hands were shaped by sword and flame,
My voice, a war cry in Odin’s name.

I thought a dragon meant a grave,
A monster never meant to save.
I taught my men to strike, to slay-
To fight the fire, not look its way.

And then came him- my only son,
Too slight for war, too frail to run.
A mind too wide, a heart too soft,
He stared at stars, his chin held aloft.

He was not what I expected-
Not fire, but flicker,
Not storm, but sky.
He questioned when I only knew to try.
He drew, he dreamed, he didn’t fight.
And so I tried to force him right.

I broke him, I broke his trust,
And still he stood- though not like us.
He found a dragon, called it friend,
And shattered all I’d learned to defend.

I raged. I failed. I turned away-
But love is forged in harsher ways.
He faced a world I could not see,
And still he came back- for me.

He changed a sky I’d sworn to tame,
He earned the fire, then gave it name.
He made peace from what I feared-
And taught me what it meant to hear.

Now when I see him ride the wind,
Not warrior’s pride- but something pinned
Deeper than glory, blood, or land:
A gentler strength. A kinder stand.

They call me Vast.
They call me brave.
But his name’s the one the winds now wave.
And if they sing of Stoick, let it be
Not for dragons slain-
But for the boy who changed me.

Let songs forget my hammer and crown.
Let me be known for laying it down.
Not for the dragons I once slew-
But for the son I finally knew.