Matildrid stepped through the door to her house, a heavenly scent wafting through the air. Practically floating, she let it carry her to the kitchen where her husband was working over the stove. His hulking mass shielded the meal from her eyes, but she knew that it was her favorite lamb roast from the smell. She inhaled deeply, relishing in the scent, and walked up behind him, draping her arms over his shoulders.
He startled slightly, but turned around and engulfed her in a hug when he realized who it was. "Honey! I'm so glad you're home! I'm making a special dinner tonight, and Meatlug and Tintaw promised to spend the night at Hiccup's so we could have some alone time," he squealed.
Matildrid buried her face in Fishlegs's chest. "Mmmm, I'm so happy," she murmured returning his tight hug. They swayed in the kitchen for a few more seconds, relishing in each other's presence, until Fishlegs's drew back to once again put his attention on the stove.
He grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred a large pot. Steam billowed up from it, and a few cabbages were revealed. "Okay, so I'm gonna make some wraps, and I stopped and got some vegetables and the market and some barley, and I've got lamb roast—which I'm sure you figured out," he pulled her towards him, an arm comfortably around her waist, "and for dessert... go check in the ice box," he whispered, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
Matildrid happily danced, having an idea as to what it was. She skipped over to the box and opened it a crack, peeking inside. "Oooh! Ice cream! You made ice cream!" She continued to dance around the kitchen. Fishlegs snagged her by the arm as she went by and pulled her into another hug, mumbling into her hair, "Just for you, as a welcome back present."
"Thank you so much, honey. It's so good to be home," she replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek.
"I missed you. Never leave again," he said, speech still muffled. "I'm not gonna let you go."
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh, I wish I didn't have to." She squeezed him tighter. "But for now, let's just eat dinner and have a good time."
Fishlegs nodded, and released her with a kiss on her forehead. "Alright. You, just sit there at the table. I will finish dinner and we'll eat in about half an hour."
Matildrid conceded, and sat herself down at the table. "No help?"
Fishlegs laughed, "Not after last time, sweetie."
She harrumphed playfully, but contented herself to watching her husband bustle around the kitchen.
Loud bangs on the door disturbed Ruffnut from her lounging on the couch, and with an irritated sigh, she got up to throw the door open. She sneered at the sight her brother pathetically blubbering with tears rushing down his face, his drooping frame cutting his height a few inches. "He dumped me," he stuttered between sobs. "Gratite dumped me!"
She left the doorway with an eye roll, letting her brother make his own way in. "Gratite's a dragon, Tuff."
"I loved him!" he shouted, still making no attempt to obstruct his tears. "I spent all day with him. I gave him presents and affection and we moved in together! Then he just... dropped me, like I was Astrid's yaknog." He collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in a pillow. His shoulders continued to shake violently.
"I was laying there," Ruffnut protested halfheartedly. Tuffnut made no moves to show he heard her—or cared about what she said. Ruff started to walk away, about to go to her room, but was stopped by the sound of Tuffnut's wailing increasing. She spun on her heel and stalked back over to him, staring down at his pathetic form with dispassion. She slapped him hard on the back a couple times, in a way that... could have been interpreted as comforting. "You'll get over him," she stated. It was said in what was possibly the most emotionless voice anyone has ever tried to use to comfort someone, but Tuffnut still lifted his tear stained face to look at her.
He sniffed, snotty and congested. "You think so?" His voice was sick sounding. He looked at her with hopeful eyes.
"Yes." Ruffnut sighed again. "You know, doing something will make you feel better."
He sniveled a few more times, but eventually responded, "Okay." He lifted himself off the couch and Ruffnut fell back into the spot he vacated with a contented purr.
Tuffnut began to putter around, putting things back on shelves. In his week long absence from living with Gratite, Ruffnut had neglected cleaning. There were odd foodstuffs on the floor, the easy meals were all gone, and clothes were hanging from the rafters. Tuffnut got the mop and started to forlornly clean the floor.
"You're so messy," Tuffnut intoned, as if he wanted to complain but couldn't find it in himself to do so.
"That's why you're here," Ruffnut replied from the couch. "Unlike you, I don't care about dirty."
"I don't care about dirty," he objected softly. "It's just... fun, I guess." He dunked the mop back in the bucket, instantly dirtying the water.
"Teenage you would be ashamed of yourself. Finding cleaning fun." She sat up and looked to him. "Hey. How 'bout we go yak tipping together tonight? Just like the good times."
A small spark of life returned to Tuffnut's gaze. "Yeah? Sounds fun." His voice was possibly more entertained.
Ruffnut once again leaned back on the couch and Tuffnut continued his mopping. He dried the floors and started doing other things. Ruffnut idly watched as her brother carried objects and laundry around, dusted shelves and straightened furniture. He was cleaning for hours, undoing all the dirtying Ruffnut had done while he was gone. More and more spring entered his step as the grease was wiped from the window panes.
Eventually he turned to the kitchen, a broad smile daring to cross his face. "I'm ready for you!" he declared, and stepped into the room.
He attacked brutally with his washrag, soap, buckets of water and towel. Ruffnut had managed to get bean goop on the wall behind the stove and Tuffnut spent at least 20 minutes trying to scrub it off. By the end of it his arms were tired, but the was wall sparkling. The table was shined, the stove was scraped, and everything was cleaned.
His eyes were alight by the time he opened the cabinets. But, with a growing horror, all he saw was the back panel of wood. He raced out of the room to where Ruffnut was still lying on the couch and shouted, "You didn't pick my vegetables? Did you even weed?!"
Ruffnut lazily looked up at him, and after a few seconds replied, "No."
Tuffnut clutched at his hair and dashed to the backyard. He flew by the drying laundry to spy his garden on the other side of the hill. His plot was full and green, but with terror he realized that at least half of that was weeds.
As he ran back into the house and into his room, he shouted at Ruffnut, "How could you let my one true love waste away while I was with my other one true love?!" He got no reply but didn't wait for one, dashing back outside.
He stepped up to the garden with menacing eyes. He held up a hand rake and a trowel, one in each gloved hand and said, "Be prepared to die, weeds! I shall avenge my carrots!"
Setenia sat at the table sharing a laugh with Mabelis. They both had tea in front of them, and were sipping at it in between words.
"Ohh, I wish I had a husband who'd do that," Mabelis sighed. They had just been talking about Matildrid, who had told them about the amazing meal Fishlegs prepared for her this morning down at the market.
Setenia smiled secretly, but hid it with her cup. "I know," she grinned. "I have no idea what it's like to have a husband that cleans for me." She winked at Snotlout, who was trying to sneakily pass through without Mabelis seeing him. He was wearing an apron and holding a basket of laundry, heading towards the backdoor.
Mabelis saw the wink and turned around curiously. Snotlout shot a nasty glare at his wife, but shoved the basket behind the couch and attempted to school his face before Mabelis saw him. Once he saw he had the woman's attention, he snorted rudely and said, "Well, keep hoping. Because I'm not going to clean. That's what girls do." He tossed his head flippantly.
Mabelis smirked, and raised a silent, inquisitive eyebrow at his apron. "Oh, this?" Snotlout questioned, fingering the material. "It's uh... for butchering. It's a butcher's apron, not a laundry one. I was out back, killing chickens because Setenia doesn't like to do it. I don't cook it of course, she does," he sniffed. "I never cook. That's for girls, too."
He stood and shuffled in awkward silence, before finally saying, "Well I better get on with it bye." He darted for the door as fast as he could, snagging the laundry basket on his way and trying to hide it with his body. It didn't work very well, but he made his escape.
Both women stared at the empty doorway, until Mabelis started to shiver with silent laughter. She turned back to the table and shakily took a sip of tea with mirth filled eyes.
Setenia only made it worse, leaning forward and conspirationally whispering, "I didn't make this tea, if you know what I mean." Mabelis slammed her cup down and ducked her head, fist waving in the air like she was trying to not let it bang on the table.
The other woman continued. "And he lied, by the way. He does make the chicken."
Mabelis looked up, tears lining her eyes and threatening to spill down her red cheeks. She was a woman who easily flushed, as she was demonstrating now. "D—does he dust?" Her own sentence sent her toppling over the edge again.
Setenia nodded while biting her lips in attempts not to laugh. "And don't tell anyone about his crocheting projects."
Mabelis practically spasmed. "He—! He—!" As hard as she tried, she couldn't quite get the words out. She took in large breaths of air, and waited until she was stable enough to talk. "He crochets?" she rasped.
Setenia nodded, an amused grin on her face. "I don't clean all that much. He does most of it. Laundry—" she nodded a head towards the back door "—dusting, sweeping… lots of things. Honestly, it's really quite adorable. But don't tell him I said that," she whispered.
Mabelis breathily laughed, still winding down. "Where can I get a husband like that? My husband never cleans for me."
Setenia waggled her eyebrows. "Tuffnut's still on the market. Snotlout told me Gratite just dumped him."
"...isn't Gratite a dragon?"
Setenia sipped her tea again, facial expression unchanging. "Yep."
Mabelis rolled her eyes and lolled her head back. "No way. Not ever. But he cleans, does he? I find that hard to imagine. He and Ruffnut were always such dirty, mischievous children."
"They still are—just adults, now. And I don't know, he's weird. One second he's running around with his sister tipping yaks—they were doing that last night, actually, scared the daylights out of my husband when they ran past our window—and the next he's aggressively tending to his garden. Have you seen his garden? He and his sister live on the edge of town, so he can make it as big and large as he likes it. And it. Is. Huge! Bucket and Mulch actually go to him for seeds when they're running low. He puts any housewife to shame with that garden, I can only assume he does the same with the house, what with Ruffnut's been telling me."
Mabelis leaned forward. "What did Ruffnut tell you?"
"Well that girl is one that's actually got a head on her shoulders—guess she got the brains of the duo. She tells me that she never cleaned anything up this past week. Not that she usually does, mind you—Tuffnut does the housekeeping between them—but on purpose. She says that he likes to clean when he's stressed, so she turned the house into a pigsty. I think she rather liked it though—didn't sound to bothered by all the mess. She smeared half of the beans she was making on the wall."
Mabelis chuckled. "Those two. Never grow up, do they? Works for them, I guess."
Setenia grinned, "Well they aren't doing bad. That garden of Tuffnut's supplies half the market. Plenty of money coming in, despite losing about one fourth of their customers to bad marketing and behavior."
"They never were good at talking people up, were they? They haven't got a filter."
"Like you said, works for them."
"Setenia!" Snotlout suddenly interrupted from outside. "Is Mabelis gone yet?"
The two women shared a conniving smile. "Yes," Setenia called back, barely keeping the laughter from her voice.
"Oh, good." From the way his voice changed, they could tell he was walking towards the door. "I wanted to clean the…" Right in the nick of time, he passed through the doorway and noticed that Mabelis was still sitting at the table. "...blood off my hands." He coughed, covering his mouth with a fist. Upon realizing that there was no blood on hands, he quickly hid them behind his back. "Cause, I didn't want to disgust you lovely ladies. ...I'll go wash it off outside, I don't need to dirty the kitchen sink." He fled out the door once again, leaving the two laughing woman behind.
"All these guys. Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Snotlout... They're all such… housewives."
Setenia sniggered, and corrected, "I think you mean househusbands."