Not really a new chapter, just something to add on to give this more perspective.
Chapter 3.5: Homefront
In all his life, Stoic the Vast had not shed a tear for anyone or anything. Not when his father died. Not when his Val left him. Not even when son, Hiccup, went off on some foolhardy adventure to prove himself, though he came the closest on that occasion.
But now, holding Astrid's letter in his hand, tears threatened to break through the dam that had help them in for so long, his eyes turning misty and red as he read and reread the letter several times, hoping this was some kind of mistake or misunderstanding that could be rectified by repeating its contents. But it wasn't. The world was imperfect and did not work in such ways.
His son was off fighting this war, this infernal conflict. This damned war, of which no one knew how they got involved. Stoic was not a man to shy away from combat, but he was also an intelligent man, knowing that it was often unwise to get involved in fights one had no place in. It was a waste of time, money and more importantly: human lives. But the politicians running the country seemed to be inpatient and rather than waiting for a better reason to fight, decided to go to war. It was a folly decision, but Stoic supposed it was going to happen at one point or another.
What he didn't think was going to happen was his son going off to fight the war. Stoic assumed he was going off to America, a safe place, to try to find his mother, or even India, to search for treasures lost in the ancient times. The last thing he had thought his son would do is go off to fight in a war. And although it gave him relief to finally know where Hiccup was, it put Stoic under yet more stress to know that Hiccup was in the region of the worst fighting, according to the papers.
Stoic sighed, leaning back into his chair in his office, stroking his beard, eyes full of worry. He turned his head sideways and looked out the window. It was mid-June in Berk, one of those rare times of the year where the sun was out and clouds were not blanketing the sky.
Hiccup would've probably been outside right now, designing machines and gadgets to try and improve the lives of the townspeople. Sure, they most likely wouldn't have worked, but one of the things Stoic admired in Hiccup was his perseverance. Hiccup would've kept failing until he got it right. That was the mark of a great man.
He could've done so much good in Berk, maybe even in the rest of the world, Stoic thought, recalling how all Hiccup wanted to do was help people, whether or not they actually needed it. He should've been more supportive of his son, more encouraging, more loving. Stoic chastised himself repeatedly after Hiccup left, but now that he found out where Hiccup was, it was worse. If only you had just tried to listen to him, tried to understand him and helped him, maybe he wouldn't be out there right now. If only, but it was too late now. Stoic hadn't paid his son the attention or shown him the love he needed, so this was the price.
Stoic got up from his seat, deciding he needed to show the only other person who had been hurt by Hiccup's departure, possibly more so than Stoic himself. Gobber.
It took Stoic two minutes to cross the street to Gobber's repair shop, which was modeled after the open blacksmith forges from the Dark Ages, as Gobber had always wanted to be a blacksmith, like the Vikings had. Normally, the man's appalling singing during his work could be hard around the town, but after Hiccup left, the workshop became sorely quiet. No sounds of metal clanging on metal, no singing, no cranking of knobs or sharpening tools, it was absolutely devoid of sound. Gobber lost all passion in his work.
Stoic walked in through the front door, the bell ringing to announce a customer had entered, but there was no one there to greet him. Then, Gobber's voice rang out from the back, "We're closed, ya bloody muttonhead, ded ya not read tha sign?"
"Not even gonna open up fer tha mayor, are ya?" Upon hearing Stoic's voice, Gobber hobbled around to the front, dark circles eclipsing his eyes, his shirt blackened with burns and dirtied with soot, but a small smile appeared was on Gobber's face, always happy to see an old friend. He outstretched his right hand, his only hand, and Stoic gave it a firm shake. "It's good ta see you, Gobber."
"Aye, good ta see ya, too. Now, how may I be of service to ya?"
"I got a letter from Astrid. It's about Hiccup. She found him, Gobber," he said, holding up the letter for proof. Upon seeing the letter, Gobber's eyes became wider than a saucer plate. His mouth dropped, and for a second stumbled to the work bench to grab his reading glasses, fumbling them for a good moment before he put them on and nearly ripped the letter out of Stoic's hands. Stoic watched his eyes quickly scanning through the paper, occasionally mumbling words and passing happy and confused faces while reading. At the end, he sighed, and handed the letter back to Stoic before removing his glasses.
"So, he went off ta fight tha war, eh Stoic?"
"Aye, thas what it seems ta be. Thinks he's gonna make tha lot of us proud by doin it, too."
"Well, tha boy was smart, but sometimes he could be a wee bit of a bonehead," Gobber chuckled, "but it looks like he might be alright."
"Thas what I'm worried abat, Gobber. Ya know as well as I do tha nobody is tha same after fightin."
"I know, but look at us, we are fine. Sure, it was hard an' not what we expacted, but we came out alright, dinnit we?"
"Thas different. We at least had each other to keep us sane, and we weren't in country for long. Hiccup has no one, and he's fightin wit weapons deadlier than what we faced."
"Ya think I don read tha papers, Stoic? I know how badly thangs are ova thar. It's horrible, but a'least we know where he is now. Ya jus need ta look at tha facts, and pray he'll make it through."
"I know, I know. I just… I… I'm worried about him. I don't him ta end up like Finn Hofferson, tha man is a shell of himself, now, and I can't lose Hiccup like that."
"I know. But, we don know what happened to poor ol' Finn. Hiccup may be ok." There was a pregnant pause in the air, both men not knowing what to say next, before Gobber cracked a small smile and, with a chuckle, said, "Whoda thought Hiccup could carry a rifle, thay got ta be as big as 'is arms!" Both men laughed at the image of Hiccup, skinny Hiccup, struggling to carry a rifle.
"Aye, I wonda how he does it. He started ta grow up there, for a littel while," recalling how his son shot up in height and started to gain some muscle, only a few months before leaving.
"Aye, he was gonna rival ya someday, and maybe he still will! Ha!" Both men laughed at the image of Hiccup trying to fight someone bigger than him. But what if that happens in war? Stoic's smile disappeared, and now all he could think about was what was going to happen if Hiccup came upon an enemy much larger than him, only his hands to defend himself. Gobber's voice snapped him out of it.
"So, are ya gonna write to 'im?"
"I don know, he might hav moved on by now, might be back at the frontlines and it might not reach 'im."
"Well, Astrid said he's in the First, right? Ya could just write ta them, and maybe they'll send it ta him."
"Yes, but what if he's been transferred?"
"Stoic, ya just have ta take a chance on this one."
"…alright, Gobber. I'll write ta him."
"Ok. Make sure ta tell him Gobber says he owes me for all 'is missed days, he nevar gave me advanced notice. And…" Just at the moment, Agnarr Hofferson walked into the shop, Astrid's letter and a few pages of assorted newspapers in hand. He took off his cap and approached Stoic.
"Stoic, I thought I might find you here." Agnarr was unusual in that he did not possess the same accent as the other townspeople. Maybe he got it from all of his traveling.
"Aye, what do ya need me fer?"
"Read Astrid's letter. She mentioned Hiccup and I…" Gobber interrupted him before he could finish.
"We know, we were jus talkin about tha, Astrid sent Stoic a separate letter."
"No, but I remembered reading something in the newspapers while I was in London earlier this summer, it was on one of the back pages," pulling out the first newspaper and flipping to page in the back. He gave it to Stoic and pointed out to Stoic and Gobber where they needed to look. "He's been given medals for bravery in the fields. Look, here and, uhhhh…" he scrambled through the second paper, "here. For displaying bravery and gallantry in the face of the enemy. Look, this one has his picture" pointing to the second article. Stoic and Gobber spent their time reading the writing, taking in the summary of Hiccup's actions. Stoic couldn't believe it. 8 Germans? 4 with a shovel? Another "finished off with his own hands, like the hands of God's justice upon the Hun," what is this? Stoic stared into the black and white picture of his son, staring into the picture's eyes, looking for any sign of his son's remaining innocence. "What's happened to ya, Hiccup?"
"Stoic, it's war. He might have been defending 'imself. Plus, it doesn't like he's gone completely mad. Look, this one says he received, uhhhh… the Crux…crix…cross… he received these two medals 'cause he was helping people. Look, rescued 14 French and Belgian soldiers. Uhhh, wait, no he rescued them after killing… 14 Germans?" Now even Gobber was worried. While the three of them, plus several others, were in the Boer Wars, they never killed as many combatants as Hiccup. And the men they fought were guerillas, civilians attacking and disappearing, not this grand scale of warfare between professional armies like Hiccup was in. It worried them that Hiccup may have gotten used to the killing, maybe even grown to like it.
"Aye, and I talked to some of my friends from my army years in London, they say he's also a stellar marksman. Got 25 Germans in France and Belgium as a marksman. That doesn't count what he did to earn these medals, though." Agnarr regretted sharing those details, though, because it seemed to only distress Stoic further.
And distressed Stoic was, indeed. His son, his own son, the boy he wouldn't hurt a fly, who refused to kill a boar when he was younger on a hunting trip, was now a lethal soldier. A very lethal, very good soldier. One who seemed to just be able to kill with ease, and that worried Stoic.
Stoic had heard the war stories from his father and grandfather, tales of the Crimean War and the wars in Afghanistan. And while the stories they both told in the Great Hall were filled with heroic moments, they told Stoic a different version. From them, he learned there was no greater deed than serving one's country and protecting it. He was told that you join the army to protect what you love, and you fight for the man next to you, to protect him and the others around you. "Soldiers are the shield that guard a nation from evil, not the sword that seeks out evil, for if a sword looks for evil, it will meet another sword and be threatened, and there shall be war" is what Harry Haddock II said, and Stoic took these words to heart. The moment you start fighting and killing not because you have to, but because want to kill the enemy and destroy him, is the moment you lose yourself.
And now, it Stoic was starting to get fearful. If Hiccup was fighting and killing for either the fun of it or because he wanted to rid the world of evil, he would be lost. Stoic wanted his son back, now, more than ever, telling him how much he loved him and wished he would've shown it more. He would've apologized for ignoring him, for not being there when Hiccup needed him, for being a better father than he was. He wanted to tell Hiccup he didn't deserve a son like him, Hiccup was too good for him and he could bring so much happiness with his inventions. He wanted to tell Hiccup that he believed in him, encouraged his inventions, tell him that he could make the world a better place, build a better future, and help countless people. Instead, he chose to ignore and chastise his son for making his work as mayor harder, blamed him for how he was born, and sheltered an immature notion that Hiccup was too skinny. Only now that he was gone did Stoic truly miss Hiccup and realize the error of his ways. If he comes back… no, when he comes back, I'll make it up to you, Hiccup, I promise. For now, though, Stoic realized the best thing he could do was to write Hiccup and tell him all of this. Maybe it would help him, help him keep a part of himself alive when everything around him was dying. Without saying another word, Stoic walked out of the shop and back to his office, preparing the letter he would send his son.
-So, yes this is more stuff to read, but not necessarily a new chapter. A quick answer to GostRider's review, yes, Heineken is a Dutch beer, but it is also the surname of a female German alchemist, and I thought I would use it as Heather's last name because she's an alchemist in School of Dragons, and while I wanted to keep Heather's science background from that game, I figured to put her in the world of medicine and chemistry, as alchemy has fallen out by this time period and modern sciences are beginning to take over. And BrawlerGamer, we'll just have to see…
Thank you so much for your support guys! The next chapter will probably be out by next Monday, hopefully, where we get an entire day's worth of Hicstrid interactiosns! Peace out!