To Be Loved the Way You Love Me
Life on Berk turns upside down when a sixteen year old boy traveling with a dark past, a world of hurt, and a Night Fury washes up on its shores. The love-starved boy will only tell people one thing about his past: His name is Hiccup. But where did he live before? And why doesn't he trust anyone?
Chapter 26: Snoggletog
This chapter was very fun :D Also, I've been spending today watching Treasure Planet fan videos with very angsty songs to them, so I guess that's what could be making me happy, too :D Also, I finished this chapter last night, but it was late by the time I finished (late for me, anyway xD) so, I'm assuming nobody would have gotten to read it until this morning and I kind of like to post stuff at a convenient time for my readers - or at least, I try to, I really do.
Anyway, next chapter is some major angst, but I've got to edit it first because I caught a typo or two last night, but I was so tired by that point that I was just like, 'I'll edit and revise this dang thing tomorrow!' xD
Also, seriously, guys, I need to work on my Treasure Planet and Rise of the Guardians stories. I've been paying way too much attention to this one.
Winter on Berk was cold and harsh; the ice froze everything in sight, you could barely walk two feet without some kid pelting you with a snowball, and I woke up every day, shivering uncontrollably, ready to face another frigid day in the forge.
And I absolutely loved it.
I put my riding vest on hold as a new project idea came to me, but I tried not to let Gobber see what it was, although I was sure he could help me, and he would probably make it better than I could.
Speaking of Gobber, he didn't just teach me about snowball fights and snow Vikings. He also taught me how to skate on a frozen pond in the forest, and how to catch snowflakes on your tongue.
He told me what day Snoggletog was, after I asked him, and he made winter one of the best times I'd ever had. It wasn't just him, either – it was Stoick and Astrid and heck, even Snotlout.
Throughout the coldest winter I'd ever experienced, I was truly warm for the first time in my life.
"Hey, lad!" Gobber yelled, poking his head in through the backroom of the forge, where I was working.
I started, feeling almost guilty as I quickly tried to shove my project out of sight, but it hit the wooden floor with a loud, metallic clang.
"Oh. Sorry." Gobber looked guilty as he pointed to the floor. "You dropped something."
"I noticed," I told him, hoping he would go. I didn't want him to see this. But he kept staring at me, like he was waiting for me to pick it up, and I had a feeling he wasn't going to leave until I did. I tentatively scratched at the floor with my fingers, finally finding the hilt and jerking it up. I shoved it onto my worktable, shoving it underneath the vest.
"What was tha'?" Gobber questioned, still standing there.
"Nothing," I responded hastily.
"Hiccup…" he said in his 'I know you're hiding something, so don't even think about lying' voice.
I sighed, feeling my cheeks redden as I reluctantly pulled the sword out from under the half-finished vest. "There. That's what I was making."
He gazed at the nearly-finished sword, and then he glanced back up at me. "Are ya sure you can wield this, lad?"
"It's not for me," I responded, staring very hard at the tabletop.
"It's good craftsmanship," Gobber said, inspecting it very closely. "Whoever gets it is going to be very lucky."
I heard the unspoken question in his voice, and I sighed again, but I still wouldn't look him in the eye. "It's for Stoick. He was talking just the other day about needing a new sword soon and Snoggletog is coming up, so I thought…well, I thought…" I shrugged self-consciously, wishing Gobber would put the stupid thing down.
"This is really good," Gobber said again, before setting it back down on the table.
"Do you think he'll like it?" The question fell from my lips before I really knew what I was asking.
Gobber glanced at the sword once, and then he turned that searching gaze on me. Without warning, he reached out and rubbed my shoulder before hugging me. I went rigid in his arms, not sure what to make of this.
"He's gonna love it, lad," Gobber whispered.
"I've never celebrated this before," I protested as Gobber pushed me into the Great Hall. "What will I do?"
"Just act natural," Gobber responded. "It's just a party, Hiccup."
I groaned. I hated parties.
"Cheer up," he said, beaming. "Thanks for the present, by the way."
"Oh. Yeah." He must've found the new prosthetic hammer I'd made him. Seeing as I was a complete and total coward, I didn't have the courage to give people Snoggletog gifts to their face, so I left Gobber's in the forge for him.
When we entered the Great Hall, I saw it was packed with people, all singing weird carols and holding presents for each other.
I smiled as I watched everybody crowd around the fire, belting out whatever Snoggletog songs came to them, and I noticed they all held hands as they sang.
Gobber joined the group and I just backed away, into a very quiet and dark corner that involved no singing or touching.
I took a seat in a wooden chair, smiling and watching everybody else sing.
Later that night, when I was sure Gobber was too involved in his spirited talk with Mr. Hofferson to notice me, I slipped out of the Great Hall and headed instead for the forge. I grabbed the sword for Stoick and slipped back out, towards his house.
As I walked beneath the stars, I began thinking of how much my life had changed since arriving on Berk. It had definitely been for the better, I decided, as Toothless nudged my palm.
I paused on the chief's doorstep, carefully placing the sword on the porch before pulling out my sketchbook and ripping out a page before jotting down the following words:
Stoick,
I just wanted to thank you again for putting up with me so much while I'm here. This sword is for you, as a thank-you. And because
I hesitated, my charcoal stick poised above the page. I couldn't say it. I couldn't. Just as I scratched out the last two words, I suddenly heard a voice. "'Hey! Get off my—oh, Hiccup, it's you." Stoick smiled easily as he approached me. "What are you doing out here, away from all the celebrations? Snoggletog isn't supposed to be spent alone."
"Uh…well…" I hesitated.
What if he didn't like it?
I pulled out the sword that I'd spent so many hours making and I hesitantly handed it to Stoick. "Happy Snoggletog, sir," I whispered.
He just stared at the craftsmanship for a second, fingering the blade. Then he turned that gaze on me. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," I whispered, staring at the snow-dusted steps. It felt as if my throat was rapidly growing smaller, constricting my breathing. I swallowed and took a breath before Stoick put a hand on my shoulder. "Why don't you come inside and get warm, Hiccup?"
"Alright." I nodded. It felt nice that he was inviting me inside, but his words kept ringing in my ears: "Snoggletog isn't supposed to be spent alone."
When we were inside, Stoick seated me at the kitchen table and pulled out a chair for himself, but instead of sitting in it, he disappeared.
He came back with something behind his back and I tilted my head curiously, wondering what it was before he suddenly brought it out and held it out to me. "Um. This is for you. Happy Snoggletog."
I could only stare at it. It was…it was…
It was a helmet.
He let it drop into my hands when I reached for it, and I wanted to thank him, I really did, but I just kept staring at the helmet clutched in my hands. I slowly moved my fingers over the top, looking at each individual groove and scratch.
There was a long silence.
"Do you…do you like it?" Stoick asked tentatively, some ten minutes later.
I still didn't speak; I just kept staring at it.
"Because if you don't, I completely understand, I—
CLANG. Without thinking, I dropped the helmet on the table and wrapped my arms around Stoick's middle, the highest point of him I could reach.
I felt his arms wrap around me, and I blinked back tears, because a stupid helmet should not make me feel so weepy.
"Thank you," I whispered, when I could speak again.
To my relief, he didn't make me talk. He just hugged me tight and whispered, "You're welcome."