Hiccup's job as a blacksmith's apprentice was taxing work, not to mention highly time consuming, especially for someone of his physique. Often days would find him alone in the forge, sometimes early in the afternoon, when he should be eating lunch, or maybe late into the night, occasionally forgoing sleep altogether to catch up on surplus labor. Yes this was the life of a blacksmith's apprentice, and if not for being the chief's son, would have been the life of a blacksmith as well. However Hiccup didn't begrudge Gobber or his father for it. Although the man did have strange justification for it at times.
"Hah, it's good for you son, it builds muscle and character, it'll help, you'll see!" He would say, jovially slapping him on the back with an oversized hand. That was three years ago, and if there was any merit to his statement, it had long since been disproven by Hiccup's twiggy form.
Come to think of it, Hiccup may have actually gone on to be the new blacksmith; there weren't any others training under Gobber, and Hiccup had never really shown the traits of a respected chieftain, elaborate beard, massive biceps, aggressive personality and the ilk. But that was before he broke three hundred years of tradition and forged a peace between his people and their mortal enemies: the dragons.
Hefting another sword from a pile he had designated 'needed sharpening', Hiccup carried it to the grinding wheel, pumping the pedal a few times to get the wheel turning before placing the nicked edge to the stone. At this point Hiccup was arguably the most important person in the village, arguably mind, he wasn't about to go about trying to usurp his father, that was simply asking for trouble, and death, yeah, death. Hiccup had heard stories about previous chieftain's sons attempting to seize the title early in an effort to prove themselves, much of the time they succeeded, but for those who failed... Let's just say Hiccup wasn't particularly keen on the idea of public flogging.
Not to mention Hiccup didn't really want to be the chief, the idea of being responsible for the well-being of an entire village was kin of jarring. In his current state, Hiccup struggled with keeping himself out of trouble, how could he handle an entire village? Besides, as it stood, Hiccup held a position on par at least with Stoick himself. Hiccup held a certain dominion over the dragons, they revered him and Toothless as their savior, having freed them from the tyranny of the Green Death, if Hiccup was to lose their trust, the dragons would all but annihilate them now.
Hiccup finished sharpening the sword, running his thumb lightly over the fresh edge as he observed it in the candlelight. Satisfied with his handiwork, he hung it up with the other battle ready weapons that seemed to be getting less use as of late. Looking back at the now dwindling pile of weapons, Hiccup couldn't help be feel slightly elated. As he overlooked the stack, he realized there were fewer there than usual, meaning he would be able to finish ahead of schedule. Squatting down to select the next item for maintenance, Hiccup noticed something out of place. A leather wrapped handle attached to a block of metal.
"No." Hiccup breathed.
Gripping it, he pulled the hammer from beneath the pile of other weapons, making a considerable racket, but at this point Hiccup didn't care. Looking it over, he realized his fears had been confirmed, the hammer had a significant crack in it, the gouge spread from the face, over the top, through the body, and almost down to the handle. Tossing the weapon two-handed onto his workbench, Hiccup contemplated his options, he could either completely detach the head and smelt and re-cast the head altogether, or melt some scrap iron to patch the crack. The problem though, is that either option would require the use of the forge, and he had stopped stoking the fire to it quite some time ago, so now only weakly glowing coals sat in it's belly.
Sighing as he located the bellows and began bring new life to the glowing coals, Hiccup remembered how he used to react to things like this. One of the first times it happened he opted to hurl the closest object across the room, when working in as a blacksmith, the closest thing was usually a weapon, and tossing it only created more work; having to repair the freshly damaged weapon and clean the ensuing mess.
That was quite some time ago though, and Hiccup quickly learned merely doing the work was usually easier than complaining about it. However, that didn't keep this task from taking a rather considerable amount of time, if he was lucky, it would take all night, if he was unlucky, he would be here until early next morning.
Sighing once more and getting up to continue with his work, Hiccup couldn't help but smile and have a little chuckle to himself. He didn't know why he kept re-hashing these things in his head, he had long since dealt with this problem, if anything it wasn't even the hard work that got to him, or even the time consumed with the tasks. If anything bothered him, it was the boredom, the sheer loneliness of embarking on a repetitive task.
But he had his way of passing the time, in the past, Hiccup had used his time in the isolation of the forge to practice singing. Initially it started as humming, because he wasn't able to match notes to save his his life, not to mention he was tone deaf to boot. However, with enough time by himself, he had honed his voice considerably.
Clearing his throat as he made his way back to the forge, he began a verse of his favorite song.
"Gafflwn Dihenydd," Taking the song at it's intended Adagio tempo, these two archaic words stretched, hanging in the air long enough to begin echoing and finally reverberating off themselves.
Moving onto the next task, he moved up to the bellows, and began to work it in time with the beat he carried.
"o'r fuddugol yn wiriol sydd. Ni fydd neb yn ein Drechu,"
Hiccup let out a breath of contentment, truly at peace with what he did. Often times he thought about what things would be like if he was a different person, if maybe he had been the son his father had wanted all along, if he hadn't shot down Toothless that day. Or maybe if he had- Hiccup shuddered at the thought. If he had taken Toothless' life when he had the chance. Hiccup didn't want to think about it, so he pushed the thought from his mind, occupying himself with his work and his music once more.
"Falch ydy ni i drochu, Traed o flaen i'r Annwn, mewn y gwybodaeth fe godwn ni."
-break line-
Toothless looked down upon the small building that Hiccup resided. It wasn't unusual for Hiccup to stay at work late into the night, but it nonetheless weighed heavily on him. Despite being nigh inseparable, Toothless couldn't help but feel that Hiccup was away from him too often. Granted, they spent most mornings together training the new dragons and their partners, and they would spend their nights together, sharing body heat in the harsh Berk nights. But despite all that time spent with one another, Toothless couldn't help but feel there was a certain distance between him and his boy. And so he found himself perched upon the roof of the boy's home, looking down into the heart of the village, to where his boy resided.
It was a quiet night, Toothless noticed, and yet there was something, rather wrong about it. Perking up his ears, dulcet melodies carried on soft winds eerily wafted about the village. He wasn't the only one who heard it either, there was quiet respect from every other dragon that lived in Berk, each with head hung low as the crisp music struck them to the bone. This was the third time Toothless had heard it, the first, he was unsure if he had heard it at all. As he had sat curled up on the floor of Hiccup's room, halfway to sleep, the notes drifted in and roused him, but just as quickly as they came, they went, and didn't come again for quite some time.
The next time he heard them though, he was sure of them. His head was hung out the window, eagerly awaiting the return of Hiccup and the soft music reached him once more, it continued for some time before slowly fading away. Now on this night, clearer than any before it, the eerie music once again made it's way to him, and unlike before, it struck something deep within him, Toothless now felt restless despite the time.
With haste, Toothless set out into the night, his heart racing, mind restless, and body apprehensive.
-break line-
Hiccup's gloved hands shook slightly as he gripped a pair of large tongs to grab hold of a stone container that help molten iron, carefully, he poured it out into a mold, sealing it after. Hiccup had opted to cast an entirely new head for the broken warhammer, not only would it last longer that way, but he was less likely to get an earful from Gobber for cutting corners in his work.
Roaming across the work area, he went to his selection of tools and pulled a large punch and ball-peen hammer from it's storage and laid them out in anticipation of his next task. Sitting down while waiting for the iron to cool, Hiccup picked up the verse he had left off at in his song.
"drochu, Traed o flaen i'r Annwn,"
Closing his eyes and lolling his head back against the window sill he sat under, Hiccup continued, oblivious to the rest of the world.
"mewn y gwybodaeth fe godwn ni. "
However, before he could start the song over from the beginning, Hiccup realized he wasn't alone. A dark shadow had passed over him, and through his eyelids, he could tell his light was blocked by a something large, larger than him, undoubtedly, but than again, that didn't count for much.
Unsure of how to handle the situation Hiccup sat there, waiting for whatever it was to make it's move. He couldn't just sit there forever though, because whatever this creature was moving in upon him, closing the already small distance between them. So slowly, Hiccup cracked an eye, the eyes that met him were not that of a human, acid green, with wide pupils, wreathed by sheets of short black hair, from which two stumpy ears protruded, all leading down into what could have been the body of a rather slender Viking, except that glittering black scales covered every inch of it.
"Toothless, what are you doing here? What if somebody saw you like this?" Hiccup said, breathing a sigh of relief.
Slipping in fully through the window, Toothless sat down on the box underneath with Hiccup.
"Your music." The dragon spoke softly.
"You heard that?" Hiccup asked, surprised.
Nodding, Toothless, slipped a clawed hand behind Hiccup's neck, drawing the nervous boy closer as he stared at him. Pressing his lips against the boy's, Toothless parted the gap with his tongue, working in against the moisture, and amidst the passion, Hiccup closing his eyes as he was lost in ecstasy, not noticing that the dragon had been applying steady pressure against him, forcing him back unto he was laying against the box altogether. Pulling away, Toothless looked down at what he had accomplished.
"Don't stop." The dragon whispered.