The fire spit and spluttered embers when Hiccup applied air to it through the bellows. After countless hours slaving away at the anvil, Hiccup's merciless day was nearing its end. The poor boy was covered in grime, sweat, and ash. With his clothes ruined, his hands raw and his hair smeared with every oily substance known to man, Hiccup wanted nothing more than to finish his last weapon and close up shop.
Which was exactly what he'd planned to do. Hiccup retrieved the bent sword from the table (which had been loaded with destroyed armaments earlier but was now blissfully empty) and placed it on the heated anvil. Though his arms were sore and protested his every move, the Viking still put his last efforts into hammering out the small curve in the sword's shape.
Hiccup was glad to see his hard work pay off, and when the weapon was finally finished, he dipped it down in the vat of disgusting looking water to his right and then set it down in the stuffed basket of corrected steel to his left.
The auburn haired boy heaved an enormous sigh of relief. Finished, finally, finally, finished. Hiccup was certain he'd kill himself if he saw another dent or piece of metal in the next twenty-four hours. He staggered over to the door, weary fingers already moving to untie his apron. However they'd hardly made any progress when Hiccup suddenly encountered a surprise visitor.
Green eyes widened when none other than Astrid Hofferson opened the door and headed in. Maybe, something today was going right. As usual, Hiccup's heart fluttered when she moved closer and smiled at him. But it was then he detected something was wrong…
"Hiccup," Astrid said, and he relished the sound of his name on her voice. The blonde then revealed something he hadn't seen earlier, a long arm brace, grasped in her right hand. She presented the piece of armor to him and asked politely, "Do you think you could mend this? I need it for training tomorrow…"
Hiccup stared. And stared, and stared, and stared. Here she was, the girl of his dreams, asking him to mend something after he had just spent four straight hours doing nothing but bashing metal. Hiccup could remember an earlier time in his life when he would have done anything for Astrid, even fixed a piece of armor when all he really wanted was to die quietly.
"Er…Hiccup?" Astrid repeated, concerned at the boy's blank expression, "Are you alright?"
Alright? Alright? He was FURIOUS!
Hiccup held out his blistered hand. Astrid, after a moment of slight confusion, handed him the arm brace.
The young male turned sharply and marched to the anvil, keeping the same stony expression. Astrid followed, worried. Hiccup placed the brace on the anvil and stared at it. He could almost feel the object withering. However several moments passed, and Hiccup did nothing.
"Hiccup, are you okay?" Astrid asked again, serious.
"Astrid," Hiccup finally replied, clearing his throat. He didn't look up, not for at least three more seconds. Then, he raised his eyes to hers and said, very calmly, "What separates a man from a slave?"
Astrid opened her mouth to answer, but he wasn't done.
"Is it money, power?" Hiccup asked her, rhetorically, "No, no…A man chooses, a slave obeys."
"Hiccup, what's this got to do with anything?" Astrid responded flatly.
"You think you have memories," Hiccup continued, completely ignoring her, "a farm, a family, a dragon, a crash…"
He paused, sighing heavily. Astrid noticed how tired he was and guilt slowly began to gnaw on her conscious.
"And then this place," Hiccup remarked, green eyes moving up and examining the ceiling. They resumed their lock on Astrid's face after a moment, "Was there really a family?" She searched his voice for hints of a joke, but he was dead serious, "Did that dragon crash…or was it hijacked?"
He allowed Astrid a moment to think about this.
"Forced down?" Hiccup elaborated, "Forced down by something less than a man, something bred to sleepwalk through life until activated by a simple phrase…spoken by their 'kindly' master."
"Was a man sent to kill? Or a slave?"
"Hiccup, what are you talking about?" Astrid asked, puzzled with frustration mounting.
"A man chooses," Hiccup repeated, paying no heed to the bewildered blonde, "a slave obeys."
Hiccup paused for a moment, then slowly began to move back to the door. Astrid, out of curiosity, began to follow.
"Stop," Hiccup whirled around immediately, "Would you kindly?"
Purely from amazement, Astrid stopped. This, apparently, gave Hiccup a completely new line to work on.
"Would you kindly…" He repeated, nodding in recognition, "a powerful phrase…" He looked back at her, a slight smile creeping into his features, "a familiar phrase?"
Astrid frowned and looked away, her memory helpfully bringing forth every instance in which Hiccup had used the phrase 'would-you-kindly'. Would you kindly feed Toothless for me, would you kindly hand me that pencil, would you kindly lend me your arm brace?
Hiccup's expression returned to stoic, and he gestured to a seat near the door.
"Sit," He commanded, "Would you kindly?"
She sat.
"Stand, would you kindly?"
She stood.
"Run!"
She ran.
"Stop!"
When she stopped, Hiccup was right there beside her, hands brought neatly behind his back.
"A man chooses," He told her sternly, "a slave obeys."
Slowly, he moved his hand forward and revealed the small hammer caught in his grasp. He offered it to Astrid, and she accepted it. He looked her hard in the eyes, and then said loudly:
"Kill!"
Astrid slapped him across the face, and he thudded to the floor.
"Nice try, Andrew Ryan." She muttered before turning around and heading for the door. She couldn't believe her boyfriend was such a nerd!