Wow! I hadn't expected to get so many favorites/follows on just the first chapter! :D Thanks so much, everyone! I hope this second chapter, and all the future chapters, are up to your expectations. :)

So with that, I bring to you chapter two: Gobber entertaining a young and gullible Hiccup by telling him all about trolls—and Hiccup believes his every word, of course. XD

Reviews are appreciated but not required; thanks for visiting and I hope you enjoy!

"Gobber," nine-year-old Hiccup shouted over the thunderstorm that was brewing in the warm springtime air, "Have you seen my sock? I can't find it anywhere…"

Earlier that day Gobber had dragged Hiccup out to a creek on the far edge of town, where the blacksmith had forgotten his hammer prosthetic at the building site of a bridge he had reconstructed. When Gobber had ventured out on the bridge to fetch it, he had stepped on a loose board, and unthinkingly grabbed at the nearest solid thing to avoid falling into the still-icy water—unfortunately for both parties involved, the nearest solid thing had been Hiccup, who at nine years old barely weighed more than the axes he sharpened. After crawling out of the frigid creek (and preventing Hiccup from simply floating downstream in the current), fetching the hammer, and listening to a wet, cold, and angry nine-year-old scold him all the way back to the forge, Gobber took off his shoes and socks and instructed Hiccup to do the same. It was better to keep their feet bare and warm them by the fire every now and then than wear wet boots all day; the last thing either of them wanted was a foot to get frostbite or an infection and have to be amputated—Gobber could attest to that much.

Now it was time to go home, and Hiccup was fetching his dried boots and socks from their spot near the fire. However, he could not find his left sock, which annoyed him greatly. He absolutely hated making new socks.

"Ye missin' yer sock?" Gobber asked, approaching the boy. A nod. "The left 'un only?" Another nod. "Well, I think I know where it went…"

"Where?" Hiccup asked hopefully, the previous worries of having to sew himself a new sock diminishing. Though why Gobber had taken his sock was beyond him.

Gobber gestured for the boy to lean closer and he did, albeit a little cautiously, trying to hide his nose wrinkling at the blacksmith's rather pungent after-work musk. "I'll let ye in on a lil' secret," he whispered, and Hiccup, curious little boy that he was, nodded, open-mouthed. After waiting a few more moments to build up a little suspense, Gobber could contain himself no longer and hissed excitedly, "It was a troll!"

He waited eagerly for Hiccup's reaction, but the boy just rolled his eyes, leaning out of the huddle with an utterly unimpressed expression. "A troll? Gobber, trolls don't exist."

"Aw, yer dad tell ya that?" At the child's nod, Gobber 'pshh'ed, waving his hand dismissively. "He doesn't know what he's talkin' 'bout. Trolls exist, all right! There's a reason we have name like we do, ya know!"

"Gobber…" Hiccup almost chided, but Gobber continued passionately,

"For years now, me left socks have just… disappeared! Gone in the night! There one day, gone the next! It's spooky, I tell ya! And now that I only 'ave one foot, it's gotten worse! It's a hard life for yer socks, ya know, when ye've only got yer left foot!" He pried his right prosthetic leg up and let it drop down on the nearby workbench with a loud clang, gesturing at it over-exaggeratingly like Hiccup might not have already noticed the hunk of metal attached to his instructor's foot.

Hiccup rolled his eyes as he sat on the ground to pull on his incomplete set of socks and boots. "There's not even a difference between left and right socks…"

"Sure there is! Ye just 'aven't been lookin' hard enough!" Hiccup didn't look up from his task, so Gobber continued, ever louder, "And one time, one time, me dad took me fishin', and I saw one! I saw a troll in the bushes! Ugliest creature I ever seen! Preyin' on fishermen who lay their wet socks by the shore!"

Hiccup, still seated with his legs splayed to either side of him, now looked up at Gobber, beginning to appear unsure. "… What did it look like?"

Thrilled that someone was finally listening to his troll stories, even if it was just his nine-year-old apprentice, Gobber nearly shouted, "Why, it was tall! Taller than yer dad!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Why, taller than me sittin' on yer dad's shoulders! And it had green skin, like leather! And in its face was one—yellow—eye!" Gobber peeled his right eye open with his fingers and leaned in close to Hiccup, who squirmed back in fright.

"Sharp teeth!" The blacksmith bared his teeth ferociously. "And it had a terrifyin' howl that could lay waste to the bravest Vikin'… that went like this!" Gobber proceeded to let out an ear-shattering wail of "BLOOOGARYABLABAPLABLAHAR", that, combined with an inopportune strike of lightning, was soon joined by Hiccup's terrified shrieking as he scuttled away under the nearby workbench like a frightened mouse, praying to any god out there that Gobber's cry didn't attract any monsters in the vicinity.

Realizing that perhaps he had gone a bit far in his vivid descriptions without explaining the next characteristic of trolls, Gobber leaned under the bench to call to the huddled, trembling figure of Hiccup in the corner, "Hey, but no need to be afraid, now. Trolls ain't so dangerous, ya know."

The child had buried his head under his furry vest like this extra defense might protect him from any nearby trolls, and now lifted it to stutter tremulously, "B-But… Y-You just said…"

"Hey, I never said they were dangerous, now did I? I said they looked scary. I mean, yer dad looks scary, but is he dangerous?"

"Yes."

Well, Gobber would give the kid that one. "'Kay, fine… But I'm not dangerous, even though I look scary?"

"Well, no…"

"Exactly!" Gobber grinned and, finally feeling slightly reassured, Hiccup cautiously crawled out from his hiding space. "So like I said, trolls ain't dangerous; naw, we have dragons for that! Trolls just like to take yer socks."

"Well… how come?" Hiccup's hands were planted on his waist and he regarded Gobber with slightly wary curiosity.

"For funsies, I s'pose. I dunno. The point is," Gobber gestured grandly with his hand, "I know 'zactly where yer left sock went, and the answer is, a troll took it."

Hiccup nodded slowly, and Gobber could practically see the boy's imagination running around on two legs inside the kid's head. Hiccup began to giggle. "Well, that makes sense, I guess. I'll just have to make a new sock… Or wear two right socks from now on…"

Gobber nodded in approval, patting (or beating, depending on which party one asked) Hiccup's shoulder. "Good boy, Hiccup. Now come on, yer dad's expectin' ya. Ye don't wanna be late, now."

After coaxing his apprentice out of the forge with continued promises that no, a troll wasn't going to come eat him or take any more of his socks, Hiccup joined Gobber and together they walked to the boy's house.

Stoick gave a subconscious nod of approval at the sound of the front door opening and closing, right as the sun set, as usual. He needed to thank Gobber more often for always managing to get Hiccup home on time; only Odin knew the kind of trouble that boy might get into after darkness fell.

He turned from the pot he was (attempting) to make supper in. "How was your day, Hic—?" He trailed off, frowning as he watched Hiccup kneel by the door to peel off his furry boots. "Where is your sock?" Bare feet were never a good thing in Berk, even when the warm months were beginning like this.

"Oh," Hiccup said casually, boots successfully removed, "It was a troll; they steal socks. But only the left ones… What's with that?" The boy shrugged, and with that, scaled the steps to his room with a "Call me if you need help with supper", as Stoick gaped after him in blank confusion. After a moment though, the realization hit him, and Stoick's face drew down into a scowl.

"… Gobber…" he grumbled.