[2] 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐒 [ 𝐴 𝑇𝑈𝐹𝐹𝑁𝑈𝑇 𝑇𝐻𝑂𝑅𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑁 𝑋 𝑂𝐶 ]

008. 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗛𝗶𝗰𝗰𝘂𝗽 𝗔𝘀 𝗔 𝗕𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗮𝗻

Measuring up to a Viking father isn't easy. Especially when that Viking father is also the Chief of your village.

I sat at a table in the Great Hall as Bucket drew my Dad and Hiccup on a shield.

So, when you get a chance to prove yourself, you jump on it.

"Shoulder's back, chin up, son!" Dad told him. "This portrait's gonna hang in this hall forever."

"No good, no good, no good..." I heard Bucket mutter.

He stepped away from the painting, and frustratedly walked over to the two. He repositioned a few things, before throwing his arms up in the air.

"I can't do this!" He yells as he runs head-first into the wall, and stands back up, adjusting his bucket. "Okay, I'm good."

He went back to the painting.

"I've never seen Bucket like this," Hiccup whispered.

"Well, when he lost half his brain, he suddenly became..." dad started, and Bucket blew some paint onto the canvas. "An artist."

He continued painting as if he was an expert, moving the brush around in a professional way.

"So, Bucket can actually paint?" I asked, getting off the bench and walking over to them.

"Oh, he's the best!" Dad answered, then looked down at Hiccup. "He's gonna do us proud, son."

He looks over to the wall, which has five other paintings of the former Chiefs with their sons.

"This portrait is gonna take it's place along all the other Chiefs and their sons," he gestured to the other portraits, one of them with our grandfather and our dad when he was little, "That is the only picture of my father and me. It was a great day. And so is this!"

Dad noticed Hiccup's posture, and tapped his back.

"Chest out, son!" He ordered, and Hiccup did as said, before releasing it.

"Yeah, this is as out as it goes, Dad," he breathed out.

"Ah, very well, then," he nodded.

XX

It was later that day, and the group was hanging out in the Great Hall.

"Look at all these great leaders," Astrid turned to Hiccup, "And tomorrow, your picture's going to be hanging right next to them!"

"There goes the neighborhood," Snotlout rolled his eyes.

"You are part of an elite group now, my friend," Fishlegs smiled, "And one of the few who wasn't killed by their successor."

"So far," Tuffnut smirked.

I punched him on the arm and gave him a look.

"Geez, sorry," he rubbed his arm, and looked away from me.

I laughed, and shook my head, giving my attention back to my brother.

"I guess it is a pretty big deal," he shrugged, "I mean, it's like... being a part of history, right?"

"Iris, you're not gonna be apart of it," Ruff pointed out, "doesn't that bother you?"

"No, not really," I shrugged, "I mean, I'm not gonna be Chief. Hiccup is. He deserves this. Besides, I'll make my own mark on history someday. I don't need a stupid painting."

I laughed a little, and Hiccup looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Not that it's stupid for you. Just for me. Because I don't...I mean, I'm not...you know, I'm just gonna stop talking..." my sentence trailed off, and I turned back to the paintings.