Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. Just having fun with them.
It can be a companion fic to Letter to Jӧkul Frosti or it can even be completely unrelated, I'm not picky, really.
Hiccup sat at the work counter in Gobber's smithy, his head laid on his folded arms on the counter surface as he absently watched the snow falling slowly outside the window. He sighed contently into his arms, the warmth from forge felt soothing on his back.
It's been a year and a half since Gobber took him as his apprentice, he wasn't yet allowed anywhere near the furnace or even the tools except when Gobber's there to watch him. He helped the old Viking around the smithy and learning various things about repairs and forging.
His father, Stoick was always busy around the village as the number of dragons raids continue to increase, especially in this winter season. It was a troubling notion and most people would've done the most sensible thing in such situation, evacuate and relocate elsewhere.
This is not so with Vikings.
Vikings are naturally (or perhaps unnaturally) stubborn, especially Vikings of Berk. They prided themselves to be strong, fierce and fearless dragon killers. They would rather jump into the maw of a waiting Deadly Nadder rather than using their brains to solve simple problems. Almost everyone on Berk was physically large, fit and bulging with muscles, the typical Viking brawn (although if one were to mention this fact to the women, one must be prepared for a quick yet painful death).
Hiccup, however, was not physically large or bulging with muscles, he's rather fit (in his own way, mind you) and is a fairly fast runner compared to the rest of the inhabitants of Berk. In other places, he could be considered normal and ordinary, but in a place like Berk where physical and battle prowess is prized above all, Hiccup was viewed as a weakling.
Not just any weakling, but THE weakling.
He can't lift hammers, except for forging hammers, and nearly crushed his feet once.
He couldn't swing axes, his feeble grip on the handle once made it fly and nearly slicing off the head of grumpy old Mildew (although many would've hailed him a hero if he did).
He can't throw bolas without getting tangled in the ropes.
So basically, Hiccup was at the bottom rung of the ladder…or maybe he wasn't even in the ladder hierarchy.
Sighing, he burrowed deeper into his arms. Because he was not like everyone else, he was instantly labeled useless, outcast, loser and just about every other unsavory name, though the perpetrators were wise enough to say it out loud in the presence of the chief. Despite Stoick's apparent disappointment with how weak Hiccup was, he wouldn't tolerate anyone directly assaulting his son. Snotlout and Tuffnut learn it the hard way, but that's another story.
Hiccup raised his head to look outside the window and saw a group of kids playing in the snow. Winter and snow are the norms in Berk, in fact one could say that it's the default season of this tiny island in the middle of nowhere or you can call it the meridian of misery, no one would complain.
Hiccup certainly wouldn't.
Snow reminded him of all the things he ever loved in his short young life, even with its storm. It reminded him of all the times he and his dear beloved mother spent together. They often make snow fortresses, throwing snowballs at each other and sometimes even caught Stoick unaware with it, jumping in deep snow banks, drawing in them and…and writing letters to the one who brought the wonderful white fluff to them.
Jӧkul Frosti.
Spirit of winter, harbinger of snow and ice.
Ever since his mother told him about Jӧkul Frosti, Hiccup kept wishing that he could somehow see the spirit. He even tried to stay out late once, hoping to catch even at least a glimpse of the spirit but all he got was a cold and Stoick berating him for being foolish.
Jӧkul Frosti was just wives tale, he said, just old stories, they said. He's not real.
Hiccup would've believed them…had he not seen the signs that tell him that Jӧkul Frosti was more than that.
He remembered one time where he was running from Snotlout, it had been an accident really. He didn't mean to slip and end up pushing his cousin into the pile of sheep manure, he even apologized! But his rather brutish cousin typically ignored him and started chasing him, the twins cheered him on. Not wanting to be the other's punching bag, Hiccup ran as fast his legs could carry him but there were only so many places where you could hide a tiny village like Berk. He dove into a shed and hid there, praying that Snotlout wouldn't think to search for him there. Naturally, his prayers were ignored.
Snotlout, with Tuffnut assisting him, almost found him but all of the sudden they slipped on a patch of ice and went sliding down the hill and crashed into someone's fish barrels. Confused, Hiccup went out to see what was happening and saw the trail of ice. It wasn't there earlier.
The two bullies tried to get back and chase him again but this time it was Hiccup's turn. He tried to run but a patch of ice suddenly materialized under his feet and he slipped on it, sliding down another trail of ice that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Hiccup couldn't stop and slide all the way down the hill, as if being led the trail of ice guided him towards the smithy of all places, though he did end up sliding off a ledge and briefly went airborne before landing into a large pile of snow.
It was weird. It was strange and slightly terrifying but…at that one moment, it was the single most exciting time he had ever experience.
The ice that appeared, the trail that moved Snotlout and Tuffnut away from him, the trail that got him to safety…that's no coincidence! Someone made that, someone helped him that day. He tried telling Stoick and Gobber but both adults only shook their heads and told him that Vikings don't day dream.
Ever since then, Hiccup stopped trying to convince them or anyone about what he thought. That it was Jӧkul Frosti who had helped him.
From that point on, he tried spotting anything that would tell him that the winter spirit was nearby. Sometimes he'd seen icicles forming strangely on trees or frost on the ground, whenever that happens, Hiccup would make sure no one was around and shouted a greeting into the air for Jӧkul Frosti. As a reply, more frost appeared around his feet or sometimes on his clothes and hair.
Hiccup didn't mind.
He had an invisible friend.
Smiling at the thought, Hiccup leaned out the window with one hand stretched out to catch the slowly falling snow. They melted almost instantly in his hand; making it wet and Hiccup couldn't help giggling at the cold.
"Hiccup, time to close up!" Came Gobber's voice from somewhere inside the smithy.
"Okay!" He sighed wistfully and gave the snow outside one last look. He leaned out so that his upper body was almost outside the window; he took a deep breath, "Good night, Jӧkul Frosti!"
He sat on one of the roofs, looking down at the snow covered village of Berk. The sky was fast turning dark and soon all the kids playing went back to their homes but that wasn't why he was there for. He was waiting for something…or rather, someone.
"Good night, Jӧkul Frosti!"
Ah, there he is.
Smiling wide, he peered over the roof he was sitting on to see a small brunette haired boy leaning out the window in the smithy, the boy gave a large grin in his general direction and he couldn't help return it with his own.
"Good night, Hiccup." He said softly as the boy pulls back and closed the window shut.
Someday…someday…he'll get his young friend to see him.
Whoa! What did I just write here?! Honestly, I wasn't really planning anything and suddenly this came out! Before anyone asks, No, I have no idea where I'm going with this.
Hope it wasn't too bad.