Written for a contest on DeviantArt. The only rules were to keep it between 500 and 5000 words (at which I failed XD), and to start the title with "Tale of the".
Have a happy, spooky Halloween everyone! 8D
- X - X - X - X - X -
"So! How does everyone like my new recipe?" piped Fishlegs.
Occupying the farthest table in the Great Hall, the young Vikings thoughtfully sampled slices of the freshly baked loaf of bread.
"It's not... bad..." said Astrid.
"It's not really good either," added Ruffnut.
"Fishlegs," Snotlout frowned, "You have got to be the worst bread-making Viking I've ever heard of."
Hiccup only winced and looked away, while Tuffnut ignored the matter entirely, closely examining the blob of wax he had just picked from his ear.
"Oh... well..." Fishlegs deflated slightly, "I'm still perfecting it... I'll get it right. Just... just wait—tomorrow I'll have another one... You guys'll help me test it out again, won't you?" The rotund young Viking looked expectantly about the table.
"Uh..." The others only exchanged shifty glances or became suddenly very interested in the wood grain of the tabletop. Fishlegs' hopeful brow began to depress...
Hiccup spoke up with a friendly smile, "Of course we will, Fishlegs. We'd be glad to," he assured him.
"Great!" Fishlegs beamed, and hurried back to the scullery.
The Vikings let out sighs of relief as their friend disappeared from sight.
"Way to go, Hiccup," sneered Snotlout.
"What?" Hiccup griped.
"Hey, you wanna make yourself sick eating that stuff you go ahead by yourself," said Ruffnut, "I plan to be somewhere far, far away."
"Where've you got to go?" asked Astrid, "He's been practicing, you know. The next one will probably be just fine."
"That's, uh, what I meant," Snotlout agreed, smiling sweetly at Astrid, "Way to go Hiccup!" he grinned, thumping the Chief's son cheerily on the back. Hiccup choked on his drink with the impact.
"Whatever. I wouldn't feed that stuff to my dragon," Ruffnut rolled her eyes. "I'm out of here. Anybody up for bashyball?"
"Bashyball?" Tuffnut finally perked up, "Count me in."
"I'll play too!" Snotlout added.
"Ha, I'm gonna see you eat mud, Snotlout," Tuffnut smirked evilly.
Snotlout glared back dangerously, "I dare you to try it."
Tuffnut puffed out his chest. "It is unwise to dare the World's Most Deadly Weapon..." He raised one menacing hand between his face and Snotlout's, his fingers cruelly curved as if clawing at an invisible, mystical orb. "I never back down from a dare! If I do may the gods turn me into a troll."
"Hey Tuff," said Ruffnut, "I dare you to eat the rest of that bread." She nodded at the loaf Tuffnut had been ignoring.
Tuffnut flamboyantly swiped the loaf from the table and took a huge bite right off the end. After a few seconds of vigorous chewing, his invincible countenance... soured.
"Ugh! Wha IH thih?" he yammered through a full mouth before spitting the bread out onto a plate. "I can't eat that!" He took a long pull from his mug.
"Guess the World's Most Deadly Weapon can't take a dare after all," Ruffnut tittered.
"I meant real dares, not stupid ones," Tuffnut leered self-importantly.
"Does this mean the gods turn you into a troll now?" Snotlout snickered.
"He's already a troll," said Ruffnut.
Tuffnut stood up, "Whatever, let's just go so I can maim you both."
And Tuffnut, Ruffnut and Snotlout left the Great Hall.
- X - X - X - X - X -
When Ruffnut awoke to the sound of a soft summer drizzle the next morning, her twin brother Tuffnut had already left the house. She asked their mother and father where he had gone, but the only answer they could give was "Out." They said he'd seemed to be in a hurry.
Too much of a hurry to hide Ruffnut's comb while she still slept, or tie her hair to the bedpost? Finding opportunities to torment her seemed to be his favorite thing to do; it was odd that he didn't take advantage of them today.
Out under the brooding clouds of the grey morning, Ruffnut didn't see him at any of his favorite haunts. He wasn't down at the field playing bashyball with anyone. He wasn't filching smoked venison off from the scullery. And he wasn't out practicing his spear-casting on baby sparrows.
When he didn't show up early in the Great Hall to grab the best of the drumsticks for lunch, Ruffnut began to worry.
"Hey, Astrid..." she began as she sat down with her friends, "Have you seen Tuffnut?"
"Not since yesterday," said Astrid, "Why?"
"I haven't seen him all morning, I can't find him anywhere—" Beard of Thor, was she sounding concerned? "—and... I need to... because I owe him a punch in the face!" She screwed up her expression in what she hoped looked like seething anger.
Overhearing, Snotlout leaned in, "Heh, I'll bet he's just too ashamed to show his face since I creamed him at bashyball."
"What are you guys talking about?" asked Hiccup, scooting closer.
"Tuffnut's missing," said Astrid.
"Really?" Hiccup blinked, "Isn't he usually the first one here for lunch? And supper? And... pretty much anything else that involves food?"
"New recipe time!" Fishlegs beamed, striding up to the table with a full platter in his hands.
The Vikings only just kept themselves from groaning out loud.
"Well, most food anyway?" Hiccup amended, apprehensively eyeing Fishlegs' latest creation.
"This one's even better!" Fishlegs smiled, slicing up the loaf, "Go on, try it, try it!"
Ruffnut, Astrid, Snotlout and Hiccup hesitantly reached for the slices of bread. It didn't smell very appetizing.
Buying time for the lot of them, Hiccup turned and asked, very slowly, "Say, Fishlegs... you haven't seen Tuffnut anywhere today, have you?"
"Tuffnut?" Fishlegs paused to think for a moment, oblivious to the furtive sighs of relief all around as the Vikings withdrew their reaching hands. "No, no I don't think so."
"Kinda weird that he's not here, isn't it?" Hiccup pressed. The bread remained untouched.
"Is he sick?" Fishlegs asked, turning to Ruffnut.
"No sicker than usual," Ruffnut droned, "No, just... missing. Er, hiding. Or something." She tried to shrug casually.
"Maybe the gods turned him into a TROLL," Snotlout quipped.
And an enormous thunderbolt CRACKED in the drizzle outside, making everyone jump.
A moment passed wherein no one spoke and everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
But Fishlegs laughed, slightly confused, "A troll? What are you talking about, Snotlout?"
"It was just something stupid from yesterday, Fishlegs," said Hiccup.
"Tuffnut the World's Most Deadly Weapon backed down from a dare," Snotlout sniggered, "And he said if he ever did that then 'may the gods turn him into a troll'. Ha." He took a sip from his mug.
Fishlegs gasped, "Well did he name any particular god? Was he standing in the moonlight when he said it?"
"Nothing like that could happen, Fishlegs," Astrid assured him, "He didn't turn into a troll."
"Still..." Ruffnut murmured, almost to herself, "When is he ever late to a meal...?"
The thunder rolled ominously outside.
Where was her brother? "You don't think—?"
"Hoo!" Tuffnut hollered as he bounded up to the table, "Almost missed the good drumsticks!"
The other Vikings heaved a collective sigh, shaking their heads and thinking themselves foolish.
"Where were you?" Ruffnut blurted.
"Oh," Tuffnut clanked his plate and mug down on the table and took a seat, "I was at Rumble's all morning."
"Rumble's?" Ruffnut furrowed her brow confusedly, "Rumble the Whipstitch? What for?"
"I needed some new boots. She said she could tailor some for me." Tuffnut ripped a bite off the chicken leg in his hand. "Wha'd yoo thihk?" he chewed, lifting one foot to show off his new footwear.
"Not bad," grunted Snotlout.
"Heh, nice boots," said Fishlegs, "Well that settles things—at least you're not a troll! Try some bread?" He tossed a slice onto Tuffnut's plate.
The Vikings again just barely kept themselves from groaning out loud.
"Wait, what? A troll?" asked Tuffnut, somewhat puzzled. But no one answered him. They only chewed their lips under Fishlegs' patient, expectant gaze.
"Er... thanks Fishlegs," Hiccup said finally. He grabbed a slice of bread and brought it to his mouth. Surely it couldn't taste any worse than that regurgitated fish his dragon had once gifted to him... And on that thought, he took a bite.
The others hesitantly followed suit... all except for Tuffnut, who again ignored the bread entirely. He never really cared for bread.
The others hesitantly chewed their pieces.
This time even Astrid's face went a little green. "Wow... Fishlegs..." she gulped. She barely kept herself from choking, though her eyes began to tear nonetheless, "I think... I think your last batch was better. You should go back to the old recipe."
Fishlegs' eyebrows flicked upward. "You think so?"
"Yeah that might be a good idea," said Hiccup, swaying slightly on the bench.
"Hm..." Fishlegs looked thoughtful, "I think I know of something else I can do instead..."
Hiccup and Astrid shared an apprehensive look.
Meanwhile, Ruffnut, wanting to keep her mouth too busy talking to eat any more of Fishlegs' horrendous scullery experiment, turned to her brother again, "Why'd you need new boots anyway? What was wrong with your old ones?" she asked.
Tuffnut, still working on his drumstick, swallowed hugely before he was able to speak. "Nothing. They were fine. It's just, this morning, when I put them on—" He paused to take another bite as Ruffnut looked on, waiting... He gulped again and continued, "—they just felt really tight for some reason."
Fishlegs' eyes bulged, Hiccup and Snotlout exchanged a nervous glance, and Astrid actually looked up from her plate.
"Tight?" asked Ruffnut.
"Yeah," said Tuffnut, finally stripping the rest of the meat from his drumstick in one deft slurp. He'd practiced a long time to be able to do that. "Weird, huh? Well, I'm gonna get more chicken."
And Tuffnut left the table.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Fishlegs peeped nervously, "Gobber said he saw a troll's footprint once."
Snotlout shot the portly Viking a look that was half-curious, half-you've-got-to-be-kidding-me.
"He said it was big," Fishlegs continued, "Much bigger than a human foot could make..."
All eyes were on Tuffnut's feet as he walked away through the Great Hall...
- X - X - X - X - X -
The next day, Tuffnut came plenty early for lunch, as usual. His feet had not grown larger or sprouted claws. They were the same size as they'd been all week. In fact, he didn't seem different in any way, except perhaps in that he wolfed down his meal even faster than usual, and that was saying something.
And as soon as he was done eating, he left the Hall without saying a word.
Snotlout wondered where he was off to in such a hurry when Fishlegs once again descended upon the table, bearing his newest creation.
Oh, thought Snotlout, THAT'S where...
"Okay!" Fishlegs beamed, "I've got it perfect this time, guys!"
This time the Vikings didn't bother to stifle their groans of dismay.
"Fishlegs," said Hiccup, "Aren't there any other people that might want to try your bread? They could be..." Hiccup eyed the loaf. Was it just him, or did it have a slightly purple tinge to it? "They could be... missing out, you know."
"Huh, I never thought about that," Fishlegs admitted. He glanced briefly about the Hall, considering. "But since I'm already here, why don't you guys try some first?"
"How about 'because we don't want to get food-poisoning and die'?" suggested Snotlout.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with it!" Fishlegs retorted, "Just try some!"
"Not today, Fishguy," Ruffnut sighed, offhandedly picking at a hangnail.
Fishlegs looked gloomily around the table. "Hiccup?" he asked hopefully.
Astrid kicked Hiccup under the table, and gave him a stern nod.
Hiccup's brow creased. "Fishlegs... we—" He steeled himself. "We didn't really like your last one. Whatever new recipes you're experimenting with, well... they're not working out so well..."
Fishlegs' shoulders drooped.
"Sorry," Hiccup winced.
"It's not that you're bad at bread-making, Fishlegs," Astrid chimed in, "But these experiments are getting worse. You should just stick to Pepperbeard's recipe."
Fishlegs stood silently for a moment... and then clenched his fists. "If you don't like my bread—" he trembled, his voice rising, "—then I'll just go find someone who does!"
And Fishlegs gathered the sliced loaf back onto its plate, and left the table.
"Good luck with that," Ruffnut drawled after him.
"Man..." Hiccup sighed quietly, "It was only the truth!" He looked around the table, searching for further justification. He wasn't used to telling other people what they did wrong. He was usually on the receiving end of those kinds of communications.
"It's fine, Hiccup," said Astrid, "Better to break it to him sooner than later."
"Ugh, you're telling me," Snotlout sniffed, "That smell was beginning to make my nose run. Tuffnut was lucky he left when he did." He hesitated. "Why'd he leave in such a hurry anyway?"
Ruffnut looked blank. "I dunno. He's been acting weird since yesterday."
"Ha, think it's the TROLL-thing again?" Snotlout grinned.
And thunder BOOMED outside, making everyone jump.
A moment passed wherein no one spoke and everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
What was really unsettling was the slow realization that it happened to be a bright, sunny day outside.
It was only after a few moments of minor hubbub away by the door, and hearsay making its way to the back of the Hall, that the young Vikings realized it had actually been an over-excited dragon known as a Zippleback that had caused an accidental explosion. However, no one was injured, and the only damage done was to Guff the Deadeye's helmet.
"Well that was... interesting," Hiccup laughed with unconvincing nonchalance.
Astrid rolled her eyes.
But Ruffnut and Snotlout heatedly eyed each other across the table for a moment. This was too many omens.
"Let's follow him," Snotlout decided. He stood up.
So did Ruffnut.
"Hey wait—guys—" Hiccup stumbled after the two of them.
And Astrid rolled her eyes again, and got to her feet with a slouch.
- X - X - X - X - X -
Ruffnut entered her home first. Astrid filed in behind her, followed by Snotlout and Hiccup.
Tuffnut and Ruffnut's bedroom door was closed. Ruffnut tried the latch.
It was barred.
"Tuff! You in there?" she shouted through the wood.
The others didn't make a sound, but stood with bated breath, listening.
"Go away!" came Tuffnut's muffled voice.
"Let me in—I want to re-do my plaits."
"Too bad. I'm busy."
"What are you doing in there?"
"...Nothing."
"Tuffnut, open the door!" Ruffnut banged against the wood with her fist.
"I said I'm busy! Now get out of here!" Tuffnut asserted.
Fed up with this whole stupid goose chase, Astrid turned. "I'm going back to finish my lunch," she said, and left the house.
"Who's there?" Tuffnut called.
"Nobody, rat-face!" Ruffnut gave up and began to follow after her friend.
"Butt-elf!" Tuffnut shot back through the door.
"TROLL!" Ruffnut called back.
And a bone-rattling RUMBLE sounded outside, making everyone jump.
A moment passed wherein no one spoke and everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
"Okay seriously... why does that keep happening?" Snotlout deadpanned.
But Hiccup only groaned and ran straight out the door. "Oh, man..." he sighed. He knew that sound.
Ruffnut and Snotlout gave each other a quizzical look, and then followed.
Tuffnut didn't call any more insults through his door.
Outside, Hiccup's dragon, a Night Fury named Toothless, nosed and pawed and whined against his master's chest. He had been the one to growl so loudly.
"I know, I know, bud," Hiccup crooned apologetically, scratching Toothless' head, "I forgot to feed you again. You must be starving. Come on, let's go get you something."
And Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout and Ruffnut started back toward the Great Hall.
- X - X - X - X - X -
Fishlegs met them on the way, looking pleased with himself as he came from the Great Hall. "Ha. Rumble the Whipstitch liked my bread. You all just have bad taste." He smirked triumphantly.
"She was just being nice to you, Fishlegs," said Ruffnut.
"Being nice, oh, you mean by not running away from me when my back was turned?" Fishlegs scowled, "If you guys really didn't want to eat my bread, then there's nothing I can do about that... but you didn't have to run away like I'm some kind of monster! I get back to the table, and there's nobody there—"
"No, Fishlegs—it's not like that—" Hiccup sputtered.
"Well what are you all doing all the way out here then?" the larger Viking asked.
"We were following Tuffnut," said Snotlout, "But he's barred himself inside his house."
Fishlegs' bristling shoulders relaxed slightly. "Why'd he do that?" he asked.
"I think he's hiding something," Ruffnut glared back toward her home.
Fishlegs inhaled sharply, remembrance dawning in his eyes, "You don't think... you don't think he's turning into a TROLL, do you?"
Hiccup, Ruffnut and Snotlout preemptively ducked their heads... but there were no booming portents of doom this time. Only a cheery bird sang away in the distance.
Toothless, however, still hungry and now very bored waiting for his master, grumbled and slunk away. He would find himself something to eat.
"Trolls have an aversion to sunlight, you know," Fishlegs continued.
Astrid ground her teeth with a sudden growl. She had had enough. "Will you all just get a grip?" she shrieked in exasperation, which really made everyone jump. "Tuffnut is not turning into a troll! People don't do that! It's completely ridiculous!"
"Really you guys," Snotlout swiftly agreed, winking at Astrid, "You're all just scaring yourselves."
"Then what's with the new boots?" asked Ruffnut, "He's too old for his feet to still be growing."
"And the staying indoors all day..." Hiccup murmured, "I mean, Tuffnut's not really that much of a homebody, is he?"
"Hey look, there he goes," said Fishlegs, pointing.
"Where?" Everyone turned.
About a bow's cast away down the village, Tuffnut was just emerging from behind a house to cross the main thoroughfare.
"What's that he's carrying?" Snotlout wondered, squinting, for there was a large bundle of... something... in Tuffnut's arms.
As they all stared, Tuffnut turned and saw them.
"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING!" he shouted guiltily, and took off running.
"Hey!" Ruffnut shrieked, and sprinted after him.
Snotlout, Hiccup and Fishlegs followed closely behind, while Astrid remained where she stood, dragging her hand down her face in frustration. They were all being IDIOTS.
After giving her anger a moment to cool, she followed the others at a walk.
It took her a while to catch up to them. Ruffnut, Snotlout, Hiccup and Fishlegs stood at the corner of Pepperbeard's bakery. Tuffnut had had too much of a lead, and the houses were too thick. They'd lost him.
"You are ALL—BEING—MORONS!" Astrid shouted at them before she could stop herself, "Would you just give it a rest!"
But no one looked up at Astrid.
They only stood in a circle, staring at something on the ground.
"What is that?" Astrid asked as she approached.
"It fell," said Ruffnut slowly, "from that bundle Tuffnut was carrying."
"He was carrying a lot of them," said Hiccup.
Astrid looked down.
It was a sock.
For a moment, even Astrid found herself wondering at the singularity of the moment.
Why would Tuffnut run off with a bunch of socks?
As if reading her thoughts, Fishlegs squeaked in a very small voice, "Trolls steal socks."
Everybody knew that about trolls. Real or imagined, it was what they were most famous for.
"Astrid?" asked Ruffnut.
Astrid didn't take her eyes off the sock on the ground. "Hm?"
"Can I spend the night at your house tonight?"
"Uh... sure..." Astrid mumbled.
- X - X - X - X - X -
That night there was a full moon.
And the next day... things began to disappear.
And Tuffnut was once again nowhere to be found.
Hiccup sat stewing beside his friends in the Great Hall, half-heartedly poking at his lunch. He wanted to believe Astrid had been right, and that there was nothing to worry about. Surely there had to be a perfectly logical explanation for all of this.
But when Hiccup had woken up that morning, one of his notebooks was missing.
That had been a little too personal.
When he had asked his father, Chief Stoick the Vast, about it, Stoick's only answer had been a grumble that Hiccup wasn't the only one with missing property. Stoick's favorite pair of trousers had also disappeared.
Several tools had been taken from Gobber's smithy, Rumble the Whipstitch had lost two entire bolts of her best fabric, and all throughout the village were cries of stolen goods and the shouts of heated arguments as Viking blamed Viking for this, that and the other.
Overhearing one man blaming another for stolen feed, Hiccup suddenly felt even worse; he realized that in all the confusion and excitement, he had forgotten to feed Toothless yet again. His dragon was starting to become pretty irritated at him.
Now the Great Hall was a flurry of furtive whispers, as people wondered whether there was a thief among them, or it was some sort of curse sent from the gods.
"Hey guys..." came Fishlegs' voice.
And EVERYONE at the table GROANED for Fishlegs to please not trouble them with any more bread. "Now is not the time!" "No more food-poisoning!" "You're not a bread-making Viking!"
"I said HEY!" Fishlegs shouted angrily over everyone.
The Vikings looked up.
Fishlegs' hands were empty.
And his eyes were furious.
"Last night," he began, heatedly, "I finally made the Unfailingly Perfect Loaf Of Bread. And this morning..." he glared from Viking to Viking, "it was gone. Gone! Right from where I left it bundled up in the scullery!"
"So why are you looking at us?" asked Snotlout.
"You've all hated my bread so much... one of you must have gotten rid of it so you wouldn't have to try it! Even though it was perfect this time," Fishlegs added, rolling his eyes.
"Come on, Fishlegs!" Snotlout laughed, "With the way your experiments have been going, this one probably just crawled away on its own."
Ruffnut snorted with laughter. "Wooooo..." she trilled, creeping her fingers mockingly through the air like spiders' legs, making Snotlout laugh even harder.
"I'm sick of being the butt of all your jokes!" yelled Fishlegs.
"Fishlegs," Hiccup broke in, trying to defuse the situation, "everybody's stuff has gone missing—our stuff too—it wasn't us."
And then Hiccup realized he really could only speak for himself. He turned darkly to the others, "Was it?" he asked, making sure.
Astrid shook her head.
"We didn't do it," said Ruffnut, still chortling.
"Not us," Snotlout added, wiping the mirth from his eyes.
"Who would want to steal your bread anyway?" Ruffnut snickered, "It's revolting."
"Not this loaf!" Fishlegs interjected.
Snotlout snorted, "Fishlegs, somebody would have to have the taste of a TROLL to ever like—"
And a thunderbolt EXPLODED outside, making everyone jump.
A second later it began to pour.
A moment passed wherein no one but Astrid spoke and everyone else exchanged uneasy glances.
Astrid simply shrieked, "Would you STOP THAT?"
Snotlout threw up his hands defensively. "I didn't do anything!"
Just then Tuffnut shuffled up to the table. He'd arrived too late to get any good drumsticks. But he sat down all the same contentedly munching on a large... roll.
His friends unconsciously put a few more inches between themselves and him.
"Tuffnut," Ruffnut said, "Is that... bread?"
"Yeah," said Tuffnut, oblivious to her tone.
"I thought you didn't like bread," said Ruffnut.
"Me too," said Tuffnut, "I just felt like trying it today. It's not all bad, is it?" He scarfed his roll with typical Tuffnut voraciousness, and then stood up to go back for more.
The Vikings watched him dumbfoundedly.
Only Hiccup snapped out of it fast enough. "Hey Tuffnut!" he called.
Tuffnut looked back.
"Have you, uh, lost anything today?" Hiccup asked.
"No," Tuffnut looked slightly confused, "Why?"
"Oh, ha, no reason," Hiccup grinned his goofy grin, and Tuffnut turned and walked away.
There were some people in the village who had remained unburgled. It was possible Tuffnut fell into that group...
But then it was also possible he had been the one doing the burgling.
The Vikings stared after him, sitting in utter silence for a few moments.
Ruffnut was the one to finally break it. "Tuffnut hates bread," she murmured.
"Yeah, and Fishguy's troll-loaf is missing," Snotlout whispered.
Astrid spoke very softly, "Okay," she admitted, "There might be something wrong with him."
- X - X - X - X - X -
Early the next morning, Gobber arrived at the smithy to find a note stuck to the door:
DO NOT ENTER UNDER PAIN OF DEATH
TUFFNUT
"What's all this then?" Gobber bellowed.
"What?" asked Hiccup, hurrying up behind him, for Hiccup was Gobber's apprentice.
"This note here!" Gobber pointed. "Nonsense. What's gotten into that lad?" He opened the door.
Out came pale green fumes like the unholy breath of demons, a hissing, popping noise and the scent of rotting flesh.
"Thumbnails of Thor! What's going on in here?" Gobber hurried into the smithy. The heavy door swung shut behind him.
There was a blood-curdling scream, and a heavy thud.
For a full minute, Hiccup stood shaking where he had stopped outside the smithy, not knowing what to do. Finally finding his voice again, he squeaked out a quavering, "Help..." And then louder and louder, "Help... HELP! HELP!" He ran to find his father the Chief.
- X - X - X - X - X -
Having gradually accumulated a small crowd of curious and concerned eavesdroppers along the way, Stoick the Vast finally arrived on the scene with his son. Hiccup's friends were among the throng.
"Now what's going on here, Hiccup?" asked the Chief.
"Dad!" Hiccup had been too frantic to explain the situation properly. "Gobber's in there! We've got to help him!"
"Gobber's always in here, son," Stoick laughed as he pulled open the door.
Out came pale green fumes like the unholy breath of demons, a hissing, popping noise and the scent of rotting flesh.
"Armpits of Odin! What is the meaning of this?" Stoick drew his axe and entered the smithy. The heavy door swung shut behind him.
There was a guttural scream, and a heavy thud.
The crowd of onlooking Vikings gasped.
"Stoick!" cried Spitelout, Snotlout's father and the Chief's right-hand man. He rushed forward through the press and flung open the door.
Out came pale green fumes like the unholy breath of demons, a hissing, popping noise and the scent of rotting flesh.
"Loki's teeth! I'm coming, Stoick!" Drawing both his axes, he dashed into the smithy. The heavy door swung shut behind him.
There was a dulcet tenor... scream.
And a heavy thud.
Pandemonium took the crowd now.
"It's a curse! A curse from the gods!" shouted Hoark the Haggard.
"We've got to get them out of there!" howled Foxtoes the Gamble.
"Burn the smithy down! Destroy the evil!" shrieked Hedda the Turbulent.
"WHAT IS EVERYBODY DOING HERE?" yelled Tuffnut.
The crowd parted as Tuffnut strode forward.
"I said to keep OUT!" he asserted, splaying his arms and pressing his back against the door, "Can't any of you read?"
"I'm surprised you can read, Tuffnut!" shrieked Ruffnut, "What kind of devil-work did you do to learn so fast?"
"Shut it, puke-wad!" Tuffnut growled.
"What'd you do to my dad?" Hiccup pled.
"And MY dad!" Snotlout roared.
"And Gobber!" squeaked Fishlegs.
"I didn't do anything!" Tuffnut shouted, "Why can't you guys just get off my back?" He opened the door to retreat into the smithy.
Out came pale green fumes like the unholy breath of demons, a hissing, popping noise and the scent of rotting flesh.
"Whoa," Tuffnut wrinkled his nose, "Oh that is bad." He stepped inside the smithy. The heavy door swung shut behind him.
A moment later, he opened the door again. "Hey, can somebody hold this door?" he grunted, "It's kinda heavy."
Nobody moved.
"Fishlegs," Tuffnut beckoned. For Fishlegs was the closest one to him.
But Fishlegs didn't budge. He only stood trembling at the forefront of the crowd.
"Get over here, fatty!" Tuffnut swung his arm.
Astrid gave Fishlegs a shove, and the large Viking stumbled forward and clung to the door for dear life, holding it steady and retching in the putrid stench, his eyes streaming.
Tuffnut busied himself inside the smithy by opening every door, window and flue he could find. He took a leather apron from a peg on the wall and flapped and swished it through the air, dispersing the last of the green fumes.
As the haze cleared, Hiccup, Snotlout, Ruffnut and Astrid walked haltingly into the smithy. Even Fishlegs, after finding a rock to keep the door propped open, followed them inside.
None of the other Vikings dared approach.
Inside the smithy, Gobber, Stoick and Spitelout lay on the floor, very much alive, but quite senseless at the moment.
"Must've been the smell—gackmf!" Tuffnut yelped, for at that moment, Astrid cornered him against a wall with her axe-shaft to his throat.
She glared him down with the fury of seven suns. "We know you backed down from a dare, Tuffnut," she hissed, "Three days ago."
"Four days ago," corrected Fishlegs.
"Four days ago," Astrid continued, unflinching, "And that you invoked the gods."
She took a breath. Being razor-sharp and hammer-blunt at the same time was what she did best.
"Are you turning into a troll?"
Tuffnut's brow sunk like a stone. "A troll?" he spat incredulously, "Are you crazy?"
"ARE YOU TURNING INTO A TROLL?" Astrid repeated.
"NO, I'm not turning into a troll! What's wrong with you people?" Tuffnut shoved Astrid's axe away and rubbed his neck.
"Then what in Odin's name is all this devilry going on in here?" shrieked Ruffnut, "It reeks!"
"I was just—" Tuffnut began, "I was... uh..." He started to shuffle sideways along the wall.
Astrid's axe flew back to his throat in a second.
"Gyaaaaah! I was doing... laundry!" Tuffnut blurted, clutching the wall behind him.
No one in the room knew how to respond to this. Hiccup looked about the smithy, considering the rotting-flesh smell, the popping noise and the leftover green haze, and actually laughed, a little hysterically.
"Laundry? You?" Ruffnut yowled, looking a bit hysterical herself, "Tuffnut—Thorston—Junior—that is the WORST lie I have ever heard in my life!"
"No no that's—that's really what I was doing!" Tuffnut insisted as Astrid's axe-shaft pressed against his jugular.
"How in Loki's underpants does this constitute laundry?" Snotlout asked as he knelt beside his snoring father. It was a fair question.
"Well, I..." Tuffnut trembled. It really was hard to talk with the double-blades of a labrys encompassing his neck. He slowly brought his hand up again.
"I was... well when I..." he fished for what to say. "When I... When Rumble made me those new boots..." He edged his fingers between the weapon and his throat. "...and I brought them home... they, uh..."
"They what?" Ruffnut pressed.
"Well they... um... smelled... really nice."
Hiccup and Fishlegs gave each other a bewildered look.
"Way nicer than any of my other clothes! I mean they were fresh and new! And I wanted all my clothes to smell like that... I'd forgotten what fresh clothes smelled like, so... I decided to do some laundry."
The other Vikings looked at each other. It seemed a thin excuse.
"Tuffnut, you never do laundry," Ruffnut pointed out.
"Why do you think I wanted to do it, genius?" Tuffnut retorted.
"Is that what you were doing when you were hiding in your house?" asked Hiccup.
"Yeah! I was... going through my clothes!" Tuffnut nodded vigorously. He pushed Astrid's axe a little further away from his neck. "I gathered all the smelliest stuff... and it all happened to be socks... and I took them to, uh, Gothi."
"The Village Elder?" Astrid was baffled.
"Well I don't know how to do laundry!" Tuffnut blurted, "I figured the Elder would be a good place to start! I knew there were some plants that smelled really good... and that the Elder would know about them... and maybe I could use that to get rid of the... other smells... in my socks. Of course when I got there I had to wait a while because the Elder was busy treating Rumble the Whipstitch for food-poisoning... said she ate something bad..."
Snotlout gave Fishlegs a calm, flat-browed look so deadly that Fishlegs had to duck.
"...But while I was waiting," Tuffnut continued, "she said I could help myself to some sweet rolls she had just made... The were really good! I didn't know bread could be that tasty... I thought maybe I'd try some at lunch later..."
Astrid's and Hiccup's eyes had met. They softly shook their heads at each other. It all seemed to be lining up. But then, Tuffnut was known for his ability to weasel out of tight spots.
"Anyway we talked about plants," Tuffnut continued, "I asked her if there were any plants that could smell better and stronger than my socks... and she showed me which plants smelled the best and the strongest... So the next day I went out and found some and... well I tried to rub the good smells into all my socks."
Ruffnut pulled a face so incredulous that Fishlegs thought her bulging eyes might just fall out of her head.
"Tuffnut..." Ruffnut began, her voice quivering with flummoxation, "Why in Thor's name didn't you just ASK SOMEBODY HOW TO DO LAUNDRY?"
"Yeah right!" Tuffnut shouted, "Like I'd ask for help with that! The World's Most Deadly Weapon doesn't need to ask for help." He pushed Astrid's axe completely away. "I mean... the Elder asked me what I needed good-smelling plants for, but... I couldn't spill that Tuffnut Thorston the Younger was actually washing his clothes. And you guys can't tell anybody either! Do you realize what that could do to my reputation?"
"How about we 'not tell anyone' where we're gonna hide your body instead?" Ruffnut cracked her knuckles.
Astrid ignored this. "Tuffnut, you spin a weird story," she said, "But... it does explain the socks... and the staying indoors... and the bread. But what about... THIS?" She gestured to all of the smithy. A slight, smelly green haze still remained and the hissing noise still popped from somewhere in the structure.
"Oh... well..." Tuffnut scratched his head. "The, uh, rubbing-plants-into-my-socks thing didn't really work. Actually I think it made them smell worse. I thought about giving up. But then it came to me: fire purifies things, doesn't it?"
Hiccup groaned and his face fell into his hands.
"So last night," Tuffnut continued, "I came in here..." He edged along the wall, motioning around a corner. The group followed him into the other part of the smithy.
"And I stoked the fire, heated the coals..."
Sudden understanding dawned in the Vikings' eyes.
"...and I hung up all my socks, right there above the forge." He pointed.
The others stared in inexpressible horror at the sight before them; dozens upon dozens of socks, filthy and putrid and greasy with years of dirt and sweat and toe jam (and probably a few bugs, thought Ruffnut), greened to perfection with the vigorous rubbing of Thor only knew what manner of noxious weeds Tuffnut had found in the woods, hung sizzling and popping and hissing from a rack above the fire pit in Gobber's smithy, emanating a pale green fume like the unholy breath of demons, the sound of frying eggs, and the scent of rotting flesh.
"You know, to kind of burn out the bad smells all night long. I meant to get here before Gobber did this morning to pick them up, but... well... I was late," Tuffnut finished up.
"Okay, okay," Snotlout butted in, "But what about the burglaries?"
"Burglaries?" said Tuffnut.
"Things have gone missing, Tuffnut," said Astrid, "Throughout the entire village. Know anything about that?"
Tuffnut shook his head in blank surprise. "No. What's gone missing?" he asked.
"What hasn't gone missing?" Hiccup sighed.
"Augh, my head..." Gobber suddenly grumbled.
"Gobber!" Fishlegs started forward and helped the old smith off the floor.
"What in Thor's hairy armpits is that smell?" Gobber blinked.
"Uhh, why don't we go outside and I'll tell you all about it, Gobber?" Hiccup said quickly, hurrying his mentor out the door. He looked behind him and gestured madly for the others to clean up that mess before they came back.
Outside, Toothless had joined the small congregation around the smithy. He let out a soft, hungry whine.
Hiccup saw him and groaned. He'd forgotten to feed him again.
- X - X - X - X - X -
Stoick and Spitelout awoke shortly thereafter, with slight headaches but otherwise in good health.
Officially, according to the six young Vikings, a very small dragon known as a Terrible Terror had blundered down into the smithy via a flue in the ceiling, eaten the remains of Gobber's lunch, become subsequently very ill, and thrown up in the forge, and this was what had caused the terrible smell and green fumes. Officially, Tuffnut, taking a moonlight stroll, had witnessed this and tried to clean it up, but was unable to completely do so in the dark of night, and so had left the note on the door to ward off other Vikings until the mess could be dealt with in the morning.
And who could argue with their story? For no one had ever seen Terrible Terror vomit before; though from that moment forward, in the minds of all the people, it became a cursed, evil thing to fear and avoid.
Astrid, Hiccup, Snotlout, Fishlegs and Ruffnut bought Tuffnut's story... for the most part.
But there was still the matter of the burglaries...
That night, Ruffnut showed Tuffnut how to wash clothes... privily to boot, saving face for him yet again.
"You owe us BIG time," she said through gritted teeth as she scrubbed a shirt along a washboard.
"I heard you the first seventeen times," Tuffnut reminded her as he scrubbed his socks. He was really having trouble getting those plant-stains out...
"I never should've gotten those stupid new boots," he went on.
"Well if you need new boots, you need new boots," said Ruffnut. She had accepted that perhaps his feet really did just need a bit more room to grow.
"Yeah but I didn't need new boots, did I?" Tuffnut glared.
"What do you mean?" Ruffnut looked up.
"Like you don't know!" he grumbled, "I found out why my old boots felt so tight the other morning."
Ruffnut let fall the shirt back into the water and leaned on the edge of the washtub. "What, you think I somehow magically shrunk your boots?"
"Come on," Tuffnut sighed heavily. He knew Ruffnut's favorite thing to do was torment him. "You're saying you don't remember hiding my best pair of socks for like a week, writing on them in... chicken's blood or something... 'NOT WORTHY – TOO SMELLY', and then stuffing them into the toes of my boots so my feet wouldn't fit?"
Ruffnut stared blankly at her brother, her mouth slightly open.
She stared at him like that a little too long...
"Wait, that wasn't you?" asked Tuffnut.
- X - X - X - X - X -
The next morning, out in the pasture, six sheep were found dead, decapitated, and completely hairless.
Hedda the Turbulent ran from house to house, sending up a cry of alarm so horrific that nearly every Viking in the entire village came running to see what in the world was going on.
The Vikings pressed in close around the dead sheep.
"This is the work of demons!" shouted Hoark the Haggard.
"We're cursed!" cried Guff the Deadeye.
"Blast it! I was going to slaughter that fat one for mutton today!" griped Killkeg the Drool.
Snotlout pressed his way forward to get a better look. Across the ring of Vikings he caught sight of... "Astrid! Did you see what happened?" he called.
"No," she shouted back over the din of the crowd, "Where's Tuffnut?"
"I don't know..." Snotlout looked around.
Fishlegs, Hiccup and Ruffnut stood nearby. Ruffnut was staring at the ground, squinting at something...
"LOOK!" she suddenly shrieked in realization, pointing downward.
"It's a trail of blood!" cried Hiccup. The Vikings around them gasped.
"Oh man..." Fishlegs moaned, his own blood draining from his face. He looked as if he might faint dead away at any moment.
"Let's follow it!" cried Ruffnut.
"Find the culprit!" shouted Gnarl the Blister.
"Destroy the evil!" screamed Hedda the Turbulent.
Snotlout and Astrid ran to catch up with Ruffnut, Hiccup and Fishlegs as, with much angry shouting and more than a few nasty oaths, the entire village trailed behind them, madly brandishing their weapons and determined to drive the menace from their land.
The Vikings' march took them down from the pasture and toward the bashyball field, the blood-trail ending outside a small shed where the smashsticks and other sports equipment were kept.
Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs and Ruffnut stood hesitantly outside the door. It was closed.
"Tuffnut! Are you in there?" Astrid yelled.
There was no verbal answer, though Fishlegs thought he heard a scuffling noise. "Did you hear that?" he gasped, his face turning even whiter.
"Quiet down!" Hiccup shouted behind him, to little effect.
"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Ruffnut screamed, and the angry shouting of the mob died down considerably.
Something scuttled inside the shed.
"There it is again!" cried Fishlegs.
"Is that you, Tuffnut?" Snotlout shouted through the door.
"Let's open it," said Astrid. Behind her, the horde of Vikings brandished their weapons, ready to kill whatever came out of that shed.
"If it's Tuffnut, don't hurt him!" Ruffnut shrieked desperately.
"What if it's a troll?" wailed Fishlegs.
"KILL THE TROLL!" roared the crowd.
"But what if that troll is Tuffnut?" Ruffnut sobbed.
"KILL THE TROLL! KILL THE TROLL!" the crowd began to chant.
"WE'RE NOT KILLING ANYTHING YET!" Astrid shouted. And then, to her friends, "On three. Ready?"
"Tuffnut! We're coming in!" shouted Snotlout.
"One..." said Astrid.
"KILL THE TROLL!" the crowd was THIRSTING for blood.
"Don't kill him!" Ruffnut screamed.
"Two..." said Astrid.
"KILL THE TROLL! KILL THE TROLL!" the crowd roared feverishly.
"We're not gonna hurt you, Tuffnut!" shouted Hiccup.
"We'll find a way to change you back!" squeaked Fishlegs.
"THREE!" Astrid shouted, and OPENED THE DOOR.
The Vikings GASPED.
"Hey who's talking about me up there?" came Tuffnut's voice from way back behind the throng.
The Vikings gaped into the open shed, staring at what stood in the doorway.
It wasn't Tuffnut.
It wasn't even a troll.
It was the Loaf Of Bread.
Sitting there on the floor of the shed, for a very small moment, it almost seemed to quiver, as if with surprise, or anger... or hunger...
"OH MY ODIN I JUST SAW IT MOVE—" howled Snotlout.
And before anyone could do anything else... Toothless, hungry and neglected, came bounding forward, and devoured the Loaf Of Bread with one snap of his big black jaws.
"TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup scolded, and pulled his dragon back out of the way.
But all that remained in the shed were six sheep heads, two bolts of fabric, several tools from Gobber's smithy, and all the other items that had gone missing from the village.
"My notebook!" cried Hiccup, reaching forward and grabbing it.
"Hey, what's going on up here?" Tuffnut grunted, shoving his way through the crowd, "Did I miss anything cool? You guys kill a TROLL or something?"
And an earsplitting roar THUNDERED behind the crowd, making everyone jump.
A moment passed wherein there was complete pandemonium as everyone looked for the source of the sound.
But then Stoick the Vast roared a second time, "HOLD! HOLD, THE LOT OF YOU!" He strode forward through the grass, toward the shed. As he caught sight of his son, he boomed, "What's going on here, Hiccup?"
"Dad!" Hiccup shouted. He cast a few shifty sidelong glances toward his friends, wondering.
They only shook their heads and shrugged back at him, blank and perplexed as they shivered with leftover terror, all except for Tuffnut, who was closely examining a blob of wax he had just picked from his ear.
"We... we, uh..." Hiccup stuttered, fishing for words, "We just... found everyone's stuff. It was here in the shed the whole time."
"Ah! Well that's good news!" boomed Stoick the Vast. He stepped forward, rooted in the shed for a moment, and drew out his missing trousers with a sigh of relief. Then he turned to the crowd. "Our missing property has been restored!" he roared, waving his pants like a banner of victory.
The Vikings cheered. They didn't seem too interested in how their things had gotten into the small shed in the first place. They were just happy to have their property back. One by one they only came forward, claimed that which was theirs, and headed back home.
As for the sheep heads and the carcasses in the field, they burned the lot of them, and had the Elder perform an evil-dispelling rite over that spot of ground. Twice. Just to be sure.
Only Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut remained behind, still staring into the dark doorway of the shed, after everyone else had left.
"Okay seriously guys, what just happened?" asked Tuffnut.
Ruffnut socked him in the face.
"OW! What was that for?" Tuffnut rubbed his nose.
But Ruffnut only threw her arms around her brother's neck, utterly relieved he hadn't turned into a troll.
"That... was scary," said Snotlout.
"At least we know there are no such things as trolls," said Astrid.
"Yeah, thank goodness we found out it was something much worse," Hiccup rolled his eyes.
Fishlegs only looked at the ground, not saying a word.
He never baked bread again.