Author's Note: Very short but meaningful to the story later on.

888

The fire in the hearth was burning brightly and lighting the room as his mother fuzzed over him. Fishlegs sat as still as possible as his mother cleaned the cut on his arm. It stung badly but that's what you get when you befriend the son of chief who had an obsession with dragons. Not that he was that different. He was more of a facts person than an observer, but he couldn't deny you could learn a lot from watching them.

"Ouch!" he cried out when she placed a slob of something on his arm and then started to bandage it.

"Stay still you big baby" his mother said as finished, "what was it this time?"

"Hotburples" he said taking a sniff at the bandage, "ugh!" whatever it was he didn't want to know.

"Oh! Hotburples? They don't come often around here" she went to the fire where she threw another log before settling on her favorite chair.

"Yeah, but we got too close" he said leaning back on his chair.

"Why am I not surprised? At least you didn't forget your helmet this time" she laughed before she closed her eyes, "would you be a dear a get your father from the great hall? I am too tired,"

Fishlegs nodded before he threw a fur over his shoulders. The weather was turning even colder than usual. He gave a glance at his mother and her hair which was now more grey than black. As he walked towards the great hall from the port, near where his home was, he thought about the responsibilities he would be assuming probably very soon. He was their only living child. All of his siblings had died even before he was born. His parents didn't like talking about it, as if something might happen to him if they did.

It was easy for him to find his father when he entered the great hall. His father was of the biggest men in the tribe but also one of the mildest. He had to be aggressive when it called for it, but he was also thoughtful, and thought his son to be just the same. He found him in company of Mulch and Bucket, two other fishermen who often went on trips with his father. They had been good friends since Fishlegs could remember.

"It seems Unn has sent for you," chuckled Mulch, "I guess we will have to finish this game at another time Fishhook"

"I will still beat you next time Mulch" laughed Fishhook as he started to put the pieces away.

"What if I let your son play in my place?" Mulch smiled at Fishlegs, "I will give you half of what I get from your old man"

"Not happening" Fishlegs father said goodheartedly.

"Hnefatafl is so fun, isn't Fishlegs?" Bucket said as he turned on of the small pieces on his large fingers.

"Yeah," Fishlegs said sincerely. Hnefatafl was one of his favorite games. He had been playing it since he was very little, and since he was eight years old he could not be beat, not even by his father.

Soon after they were walking back home, the wind against them.

"Shoot!" Fishhook said as the wind tossed his loose hair locks about.

Fishlegs stopped for a moment while his father tucked the long auburn locks behind his ears in hopes that they would stay still. Fishhook started walking again, but this time Fishlegs didn't follow.

"Son?" Fishhook asked as he turned to face his son.

"Why no one in your family or mother's family has hair like mine?"

Blond was not a rare hair color in their tribe, or in the Ingerman clan, but they were very different blonds (for there is more than one type of blonde).

"What are you talking about son?" Fishhook said trying to laugh, but the head of the Ingerman clan was not a good liar. His smile was very strained.

"Am I really your son?" he asked feeling as if a knot was forming on his throat.

"Of course you are! Now let's get home or your mother will worry" Fishhook said fast and turned to continue walking back home.

Fishlegs turned his lips into a straight line and continued to walk, but he no longer walked on Fishhook's side but a few paces behind him. In their families there were a few blonds, but they were more of the golden blond, brown blond, or even reddish blond, but his hair was more of a dark straw blond and very rebellious. Fishlegs was very observant of details like that, but it was until then that connected the dots together.

When they arrived home Unn was already asleep; her Gronckle sleeping next to her chair.

Fishhook sighed before picking her up in his arms and taking her to her bed. Fishlegs sat before the fire wondering if he should ask his mother. The knot on his throat was now thick and he wondered if he would be able to even mutter one word to her about it.

"Fishlegs?" Fishhook returned with a small and beaten wooden box, "we need to talk son"

Fishhook sat his son across from him before he handed the box to Fishlegs.

"That is yours" he said simply before Fishlegs opened the box. Inside he found a necklace made of multicolored beads and a pair of large seashells attached to the end. It didn't seem like anything special to the ordinary observer but Fishlegs was amazed by it. Bead necklaces were not that rare, but one with beads of the same size and shape was something different. He also noted that no bead was repeated. They were all of a different color with little spots of a different color covering them. The seashells were a bright red which were not seen anywhere near their islands. Whoever made this probably went through a lot of trouble to make it.

He looked inside the box. There was a small note.

Please take care of my Fishlegs

My heart and hope

"Your mother and I thought it was a sign of the gods when we found you" Fishhook said with a gentle smile, "we believe the gods sent you to us"

"You found me?" Fishlegs asked as he placed the necklace back on the box with the upmost care.

"A small boat lost in the mist," Fishhook said, "a tiny little thing; we thought you were a runt until a few years later you turned like this"

"I was banished…" it was not strange for runts to be banished in some tribes.

"But loved," Fishhook was fast to add, "you were wrapped in the softest of blankets and was not at sea for long. Whoever they were, they did not want you to… well, you know"

Fishlegs stared down at it for a long time; it was all he had of those who brought him to the world. He always thought his eye for detail and smarts came from the Ingerman. They simply nursed what he was given by those strangers that left him floating in the sea.

"You are still Fishlegs Ingerman," Fishhook said worried over the long silence, "your mother and I love you like our own, and don't ever forget that" he pleaded Fishlegs who then looked up at his father's worried face. Of course he knew he was loved, but it still hurt to think he was banished and all his parents could do was give him a warm blanket and leave him a note and a necklace. They could have at least told him who they were.

"Thank you," he managed to say at last, "I really mean it, but…" he picked the necklace again.

"I know," Fishhook said with a sigh as he took the necklace from Fishlegs, "maybe one day you will meet them" and he placed the necklace around Fishlegs' neck "just remember that no matter what you will always be our son."

Fishlegs nodded as he offered Fishhook a smile. He wasn't sure he wanted to know who they were, but he did want to understand why.

The following morning neither told Unn but the moment she saw the necklace pick out Fishlegs' tunic she left the kitchen.

"Give her some time," Fishhook said patting his son on the back.

The following days Fishlegs went on as usual. He really didn't want to hurt his mother. Unn seemed to shy away during the first days, but when she realized Fishlegs was not treating her differently she too returned to normal. Well, not completely. The now retired Shield Maiden finally spoke to him of the children they had lost. It was something that pained them greatly for their deaths were things they could have stopped. There were no accidents, or anything like that, just bad luck.

One evening she told him of a precious little girl with locks as dark as the feathers of a raven. She had been a smart little thing but had a weak heart. Another night she told him of a boy they had named Fishbone but was nothing like a fishbone. He had been a very robust boy who everyone said would look just like his father when he grew up. He never had the chance to for he too had a weak heart. Their third child had been another boy. This one had been very small but they refused to let him go until his little heart stopped beating too only a few days after he was born.

After that the Ingerman were too afraid to try again. They too felt like their hearts would stop if they went through the same again. So the years passed and one day Fishhook returned with a little boy in a blanket and a small chest.

"We thought the gods had cursed us" she admitted, "for neither of us sought glory or battle but then you arrived and your name was Fishlegs"

"Maybe they were a fishing family too" he wondered aloud.

"Probably," she admitted getting lost in her thoughts for a moment, "I believe there is a reason why you ended with us"

"Destiny?" if that was the case then maybe destiny wasn't so bad.

"Maybe," Unn laughed softly for she rarely attributed things to destiny, but this one was one she was willing to do.

888

Hiccup stopped measuring the next board of their new boat.

"That's nice," he said looking at the necklace that had gotten out of Fishleg's tunic.

"Ah, thanks" Fishlegs put it back inside his tunic, "a family gift"

"I bet," he said with a smile for he had noted the detail of the necklace. It wasn't gold or made of other precious materials, but it was indeed stunning.

"Stop wasting time chattering like old ladies and get back to work!" Gobber shouted shaking his hooked hand at them. He would make sure those two didn't go dragon watching until they finally got that boat finished.

"Don't need to get your undies in bunch!" Hiccup shouted back before he prepared to cut the next board. He was a little tired of having Gobber looking over their shoulder all the time.

"Come here and say that to my face you excuse for a shrimp!" Gobber shouted before Hiccup dropped his tools and marched towards his teacher, a new set of insults ready to fly away.

Fishlegs stopped for a moment to watch the exchange between the blacksmith and his apprentice. It was incredible how someone so small and considered weak could stand up to a man that size and even bigger men. He wondered if he would be too different if he was a runt like Hiccup. He guessed not and smiled before he went back to work. His friend was more than just a runt just like he was more than just a baby left all alone in a small boat.

"I am Fishlegs Ingerman," he whispered to himself and smiled. It felt nice to know who he was.