A solid week after Bloom's departure, Asher finally works up the courage to go back to the Forge - mainly because he noticed his axe is getting dull, and he doesn't actually know how to sharpen it to such a fine point. He can sharpen it with a stone, alright - but never to such a point. It usually takes a long time for his axe to get dull, months at a time - he'd be wondering why if he didn't have a head full of other things to wonder about, though.
Lucky him, when he gets there, Gobber isn't working on other orders.
Unlucky him, Gobber isn't working on other orders so he's free to pummel Asher into a fine pulp if he wants to.
Gobber gives him an impassive look when he hesitantly explains his request, then just shrugs and says "Come back in half an hour for it. You usually like to go do something while you wait, as I recall."
Asher blinks, then asks "Half an hour? Usually it takes…"
"Four? I know. Ever wonder why?"
Asher blinks, getting the distinct feeling he's going into territory more dangerous than the first Training session by far. "Erm…should I have wondered?"
Gobber sighs, then asks "Do you even know who made this axe?!"
"My parents commissioned it for me…I got it on my ninth Snoggletogg."
Gobber nods, and says "Bloom's ninth month as my apprentice. I know. Want to know how I know?"
Asher gulps, dearly wanting to shake his head at Gobber's intense and angry stare - that'll just get the smith mad, and possibly a half-done sharpening job, though. "Yes. Please."
"She made it. Spent the entire month on it. First week was spent thinking up different designs. Next was spent on the handle - getting it just right, you see. The third was on the axe head, making it separate from the handle and making it as perfect as she could. Actually tested its sharpness by setting a leaf on it - she was only satisfied when the leaf was sliced just by falling on it. The fourth was spent putting it all together. Making sure it was balanced, treating the handle so it wouldn't crack or splinter in battle, heat-treating the axe head so it wouldn't warp, bend, or break. Poured her heart and soul into that weapon, but was too nervous to deliver it herself. Or even let you know it was her work."
Asher looks in utter shock at the Axe in Gobber's hand, Bloom made that?! It's his favorite weapon in the world!
Gobber seems to read his thoughts, and nods his head, saying "Every single time you took it here to be sharpened, she'd do it herself. You want to know why you were always told to come back in four hours instead of just to wait or to be back in half an hour? Because she'd spend an hour sharpening the blade to perfection. Twice as much time as needed for each side - I never told her off, though. I used to be young to, I know what its like. Then, she'd spend an hour re-coating the handle so it wouldn't splinter or crack. The coating would take another two hours to dry, though, else it'd just stick your hand to the handle near-permanently. Took her forever to wash her hands of the stuff each time."
Asher's getting sicker and sicker to his stomach as Gobber describes how she'd polish the axe blade and the metal studs until they looked like new, how she'd mend any nicks or scratches he'd managed to put into the blade. How, when the leather wrapped around the handle was starting to crack she replaced it all.
Her answer for why she went to all that trouble when Asher never noticed? 'A good warrior needs a good weapon.'
"Oh, Thor, Gobber, I-"
"Didn't notice. Not once. How in the name of Thor didn't you notice?"
Asher gulps, noticing his reflection in the blade of his axe as it gets handed back to him - he's gone paler than usual, sweat collecting on his forehead, and looks like he might throw up. "Gobber, I just thought-"
"What? That she just had some dumb crush on you? That Bloom was going through a phase? That she'd grow up and stop trying to get your attention?" Asher goes still in utter shock, then Gobber's eyes go huge in his head. "You mean to tell me you didn't…SHE LIKED YOU!"
Asher looks at the floor, rubbing one shoulder with his other hand, and mutters "She always told me to leave…"
"She said that because all you did was either ignore her while everyone else picked on her or went off on her like you did the first day in Training! It was be alone by choice or get judged and found lacking no matter what she did! You Odin-damned, thick-headed, battle-minded idiot!"
Asher nods, his throat closing up, then runs out the Forge before Gobber can tell him anything else he should've noticed for the past fifteen years. He eventually finds himself outside the Chief's house - how he ended up here is a mystery, maybe the gods are punishing him by tormenting him with reminders of the girl he pushed away then couldn't pull back in.
Surprisingly enough, Stoick actually walks out at that exact second - his breath smells of strong mead and ale, and he looks bleary-eyed and disoriented. He still recognizes Asher, though.
He lets Asher go inside - doesn't even really listen to his stammered excuse of why he was even there, is that what Bloom dealt with for so long? - then heads off to get to his duties as chief. When usually he's out there before the crack of dawn, seeing the fishermen off and going up to the Great Hall for something to eat for the day.
Asher doesn't see much of anything downstairs, other than a table with two chairs and a few dozen empty bottles of alcohol at one end, but spies some stairs heading up to the second floor of the house.
Almost against his will, he heads up there - it's Bloom's room, he knows he shouldn't be in here! He sees her desk, bare of anything that would show she uses it - he spies a corner of parchment sticking out from under her bed, and lifts up the mattress to reveal what looks like a hundred drawings hidden from view. He shakily takes them out, and is amazed beyond belief at what he sees - it looks very much like she simply trapped the dragons she drew in the page, as they look like they could fly right off the page any moment now.
Nadders, Gronckles, Terrible Terrors, even a smaller - younger? - version of the Light Fury she rode off on. Especially the Light Fury she rode off on - one picture has the word 'Brightfire' at a corner, did she name the dragon?!
Buried amongst the drawings is a small book, a sketchbook maybe? He opens up the cover, only to be faced with 'Diary of Bloom Haddock' on the front cover - he slams it shut at once with his face going bright red from mortification, it's her Diary! Likely filled with stuff she never meant for anyone to read!
It could help you understand, though.
He tells the annoying little voice in his head to shut it, that it's just a voice in his head and doesn't know what it's talking about.
It's her diary. The only record of how she actually felt. Her rants she made are one thing, what's written in confidence, as she never thought anyone would read it, is another. And, likely to be the truth.
Asher really wishes this little voice in his head would stop making such good points. He quickly shuffles the drawings into a neater pile, and hides them under her mattress once more before heading back to his house with the diary. The only reason his conscience isn't screaming bloody murder at him is because he immediately promises himself he'll never tell anyone what he reads. No matter if he wants to kill someone over it or not.
He leaves after that, and finds his legs taking him to the forest - Bloom always went there when she was lonely or wanted to be alone, so it seems only right that he reads it there. Raven's Point, Bloom's secret sanctuary from the village as well as the farthest point on the island from it.
Two-thirds of the way there, he finds out Bloom didn't trust to the villagers' disinterest - or, possibly, Snotlout and the Twins' short attention spans - and left a few surprises for anyone following her…in the form of snares. Snares made out of vines braided into a strong rope.
Asher stares up at his ankle, with the vine-rope wrapped around it, and tries to think. Alright, what would Bloom do? She'd have known the snare was there, that's what. Or she'd have her knife out to cut through it, instead of dropping it when the snare tripped. Think, think…
After a good minute, he sighs and pulls himself up the vine and onto the branch its hanging from. To his utter surprise, there's a small hollow carved into the trunk with a small knife there - he quickly slices through the vine, as its still sharp. Looks like Bloom didn't want to risk anything, then.
When he gets the journal out at the small cove - covered in plants and old scorch marks, and that's after searching for a good twenty minutes just to find the ridiculously well-hidden entrance - the first entry nearly makes him fall from the stone he's sitting on.
'My name is Bloom Haddock. My friends aren't my friends anymore, they suddenly started picking on me today. Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut hurt me, Fishlegs tried to get them to stop but just trailed off and left soon after they started, and Asher just ignored everything a few feet away. Why? Asher said he'd take care of me, why would he ignore me like that? It all started when I went for a walk, a harmless little walk through the forest. I didn't even go that far, I always kept the village in earshot! All because dad is Chief and doesn't have time for me - all the others were busy with their parents, why can't I have that?'
A few entries later, Asher nearly faints from shock. 'I went for another trip into the woods today. I can't ever let anyone know what I do in them, now. I met some dragons. They don't act like in the raids, though. They were more curious than anything else. Way nicer than the village, now. I can hardly remember what my life used to be like when people liked me. I remember getting tickled, I dream of Asher saying he'll take care of me. I live getting beat up and insulted. Asher brushing me off as some stupid little girl while he trains. Looks like childhood promises are made to be broken. The dragons, though, they're real. And they're permanent. The two Terrors I met took me to Raven's Point. They took me to the most beautiful dragon I've ever seen. A Light Fury, but smaller than any adult dragon that isn't a Terror. I think she's still young. She made me that same promise Asher made, though not out loud. Words are meaningless, actions are what matters. Brightfire showed me she'd take care of me. Teach me. Her and the other dragons. I can't let anyone ever find this. Ever. They'll kill her, kill them all. Kill my only friends…no, my family. My real family.'
Asher swallows the urge to throw up - upon reading that first entry, the promise he made her comes to the front of his mind. He'd forgotten that day completely, but now it comes rushing back. They were wrestling, he started tickling her torso until she went red in the face and had to catch her breath, then asked if they could stay like that forever. He said he'd always be there for her, he'd always take care of her. She threw her arms around his neck, at that point. Then, a few years later, he made himself a liar - and it doesn't look like she ever forgot it.
The last entry he looks at gets him confused…but answers how she could shove his chest and send him flying backwards.
'I've started doing stuff after meeting Brightfire. Weird stuff. Magic-stuff. The villagers will call it witchery, likely. That, or a blessing from the gods. I'm not taking my chances.
I can float stuff - that stuff can also be sent flying if I get mad.
I can burn stuff, and control the fire. I don't get burned, anymore - found that out today when a Terror accidentally flamed at me via sneezing, but I only felt a nice warmth on my arm instead of it getting burned. It doesn't even look burned.
Brightfire and the others are helping me practice, learn to control it. They're also teaching me how to fight, how to defend myself if I need to.
I have to hide it, though - if I don't, the villagers will want to know how I got so good. They'll find out about the dragons, they'll kill them. For my friends, I'll go through anything.
Raven's Point is the only place I can practice without worrying about the villagers finding out. Or getting hurt. Whether these powers are a blessing or a curse, I'll bear it as I bear everything else.
Maybe, one day, all this will change. Maybe I'll be happier than now - away from Berk, or accepted, I just want to be happy. And I want my friends at my side. That makes the first much more likely than the second. Whatever the case, I'm supposed to stay calm - it helps keep any incidents from happening. Snotlout and the Twins don't make it easy, though.'
The night after the first Training session comes to the front of Asher's mind, and he nearly facepalms - if he's right, the fire was literally burning higher than usual. That would be what was causing her shadow to move crazily like that…and it might also be how that plate nearly hit him in the head.
That, or she actually did throw it - she threw her mug hard enough to nail Snotlout in the face, after all. Though, that could've been helped with her magic to.
Dammit, why is everything about her a mystery?!
AN: Hey, happy 4th of July! I know I posted another chapter a few days ago, but hey, its a holiday! Why not? Plus, this one does kinda have a tiny little important detail that's an explanation for why Asher knew stuff from her Diary in the first place. Before anyone asks, I'm going to do a bit of time-skipping for the next few chapters. Don't worry, I'll get to the main plot soon enough - its just that three years is an awfully long time to write, And its a can of worms that i don't think would fit this story. Plus, i kinda opened it already in one-shots for 'The Years in Between.'
Anyway, enjoy! More chapters coming soon! Please review!
