Welcome back folks, and Happy New Year!
I'm glad to say that from the reviews it seems I managed to pull off generating anger (yeah, hit the nail on the head for that one!), suspense, angst, and maybe humor or camaraderie in the last chapter. Sweet!
I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I've gone over it many times and it doesn't get better. It's choppy, and the sentence structure doesn't flow well. Also, the wording seems simplistic. Ah well, gotta have a clunker every now-and-again.
This chapter again focuses on character interaction and background development. I need to define, and develop certain relationships between the various characters since their roles will become important later on. It's not a very exciting chapter, but it does introduce some information that I need for the overall story arc. Sorry for the dullness, but I have to get the ground work laid out before we can get into the meat of the story. Things will start moving a bit faster after the next couple chapters since I'll be able to move forward with the main plot.
I gotta admit, my old English prof would probably be rolling over in her grave - well, if she were dead - to see that I actually have positive reviews! Score one for almost-English-speaking sea sponge! Hoorah!
For what it's worth, hats off to all of you who write stories. This is harder than any physics or calculus I've ever taken. Numbers and equations are easy, staring at a blank page desperately trying to write an interesting paragraph is bloody hard. Hell, a lot harder than I ever thought, so I'm grateful that y'all are hanging in there with me while I cut my teeth on this fanfiction.
BTW, the HTTYD2 trailer was awesome. Although I'm kind of bugged that they made Hiccup's mom a dragon trainer. I think it detracts from his "specialness" in the tribe. My two cents for what it's worth.
OK, enough of that... back to the story...
Final Warning: Buckle up Buttercup... Nobody ever called 911 after doing something smart, and this story is probably the dumbest damn thing I've ever done in my life! Alonzi!
Chapter 3
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Hiccup seemed to shrink visibly under Gobber's intense, quizzical gaze. Head bent downward, he intently examined the food he twiddled idly between nervous fingers, deliberately avoiding his mentor's watchful eyes. Feeling the heat of embarrassment creep slowly up his back, an unwanted blush appeared on his cheeks as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
The full weight of the large man's glare pressed down on the small boy, piercing his body and sending nervous energy snaking through his veins like a fire. After what seemed like an eternity, Hiccup peeked upward through shaggy bangs, which fell softly across his forehead, and finally stuttered, "I... I don't seem to have any idea what to bring. I don't know anything about my Mum. M-My Dad never talks about her."
After his admitted failure at obtaining a celebratory gift, Hiccup's voice dropped in volume as he continued in a melancholy tone, "... When I ask him about my Mum, he just gets angry. He doesn't really look at me, or speak to me anymore. Well, except to tell me how I've screwed up, or how I'm not listening, or not as good a Viking as Snotlout, or ..." Hiccup's voice trailed off. His body seemed to collapse in on itself with the final admission of his abysmal relationship with his father.
The blacksmith studied the young man's genial face. The pain of his words leaked into his youthful expression, the bright green and innocent eyes now clouded with a forlorn look of someone far older than his tender an exhale of courage, the small boy stiffened, raised his head and stared directly in the eyes of his mentor, the light and excitement in his eyes renewed, "Can you tell me about my Mum?" His soft voice pierced through the air with pleading urgency.
"Lad, I'm not sure I'm the best one to be tellin' ya about your Mum."
"But there's no one else!" Hiccup blurted out in protest.
"I suppose there's not," the large man said sympathetically.
With a sigh, Gobber scooted his chair closer, with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his chin. He looked skyward and searched his memories. Seeming to retrieve some long forgotten event, he removed his hand from his chin, snapped his fingers with a smile, and adjusted himself in his seat.
Hiccup's eyes widened and fixated on his companion as the man sedately described a beautiful chestnut-haired maiden with brilliant hazel eyes. A woman with the fighting spirit of a Valkyrie, the battle skills of a Berserker, and the kindness and compassion of the goddess Freya.
"Thor almighty, Val was one Hel of a woman, and very easy on the eyes. I suppose we were all in love with her to some degree." Upon completing his glowing description of Hiccup's mother, Gobber gave a wolf-whistle while making an hour glass shape with his hands. "Know what I mean?" a wink and an elbow nudge to Hiccup's ribs followed. The gesture of obvious attraction to his mother caused an uncomfortable feeling in the little Viking's stomach.
Taking a few moments to remove the lecherous smile that broke across his face, the older man licked his lips and refocused his attention on the small, obviously creeped-out boy in front of him, whose eyebrow was raised, and face was aghast with horror at the sexual innuendo.
With hand on knee, wagging a large finger at Hiccup, the hairy blacksmith continued the story. "Now where was I? Oh, yeah.." Clearing his throat to break the uncomfortable tension that was like electricity in the air, he hummed. "It's not like your Dad didn't have plenty of women chasing after him, but the moment he saw Val, well... he lost interest in the rest."
"Now, Stoick being smitten with Val caused great problems for your grandpa. You see, Gunnar the Great had already agreed to an intertribal marriage contract for your Dad. While his intended wasn't much to look at, she did bring the village some of the best mead I've ever tasted..." Gobber licked his lips longingly at the thought, his eyes glazed over slightly and he half-grinned recalling the fond memory.
Clearing his throat, and shaking his head to pull him out of his reverie, the blacksmith continued, "Ah, those were the days... Your Dad and I were soused for a good month straight," he lightly chuckled, a mischievous look dancing in his eyes.
"Didn't seem to matter to your Dad that he threw one Hel of a thunderbolt into Gunnar's plans. But that was when Stoick was young, lighthearted and carefree. Love will do that, lad. It makes ya all stupid and silly." Gobber winked devilishly at Hiccup, laughing boisterously.
A blank expression materialized on Hiccup's face as he tried to picture his Dad as anything other than old, serious, and stern. His mental gymnastics failing miserably. He always pictured his Dad as being born angry, a scowl plastered on his face even as an infant.
Gobber paused and sat back in his seat, a devious look in his eyes as he surveyed the bewildered look on the boy's face, "... but that's a story for another time. And is it a doozy! Best cat fight I've ever seen!" Gobber threw up his arms wildly mimicking an explosion, laughing raucously.
Wiping the mirthful tears from his eyes and calming himself after his outburst of hilarity, Gobber continued telling Hiccup how his father fell in love with the chestnut-haired beauty, but she didn't return his affections. He told a tale about how Valhallarama saw herself as a shield-maiden, determined to stay chaste and remain a protector of the village. Most importantly, Hiccup was told about Stoick's determination to win the heart of the woman he loved. To prove his love, he underwent the dangerous journey to Skarstind Mountain to bring back the rare dragon-shaped Meadowrue flower; Val's favorite flower.
Hiccup found himself unconsciously smiling at his friend's retelling of his parent's courtship, finding himself eager to hear more. With encouraging eyes, Hiccup scooted forward in his seat, face ablaze with excitement, listening intently.
The blacksmith momentarily stopped speaking. A sincere smile slowly broke across his face, punctuating his next sentence for effect, "Needless to say, Stoick's heroics and passion won her hand, and she agreed to marry him at the next harvest."
Gobber leaned toward the boy as he met his eyes, choosing his next words carefully he spoke in a very calculated manner, "It was about half a year later when your Mum found out she was with child. I've never seen a man who wanted to be a father more than your Dad." Gobber focused on the small form sitting mesmerized before him, taking great pleasure at the surprised look that slowly crept across his face as the meaning of the words dissolved into his befuddled brain.
Hiccup lowered his head and whispered, "I was wanted? I was wanted..." his face a mix of shock and disbelief. When Hiccup raised his head, he initially stared blankly at the blacksmith. His body then tensed and a volley of mixed emotions played across his face in succession, still unable to believe what he was told.
As if an intelligent darkness had been listening, an oppressive and stifling presence seemed to descend upon the room, encircling the two seated occupants, dimming the firelight and casting ominous shadows on the surrounding walls. A disconcerting quietness seemed to creep into the air as the expression on the storyteller's face became solemn.
The smithy lowered his eyes from the boy's face, obviously in pain, as the fairytale he told took a dark and unexpected turn. Hiccup's heart broke as he sat frozen, unable to speak, as he learned how after a few months his mother started to become ill. He was told that the best healers couldn't determine the cause of her illness, nor a cure, but felt her illness was due to her pregnancy, and that she'd recover once she lost the child.
"I was with your Dad most of the days he sat with your Mum. It never quite sunk into his head that he could lose you..." Gobber's voice solemn as he spoke.
Hiccup looked up at his friend with searching eyes. He never knew this about his parents; certainly not about his Dad. He never got the feeling that he was ever wanted.
How could this be? How could the man who constantly criticized him; who looked upon him with austere expressions; who mostly ignored him; who viewed him, and everything he did, reprovingly; have ever wanted him. Hiccup's mind swam with all these thoughts trying to reason through the paradoxical information.
Gobber laid his hand on the small boy's shoulder, looked into the young man's face and spoke, "I guess your Mum was just about six months along when you came. You were so small and sickly that your Dad was sure you wouldn't make it through the night. When you did, your Dad thought you and your Mum would both be fine."
"She passed the very next day... In the end, I think that's what broke him. He was never quite the same after that." Gobber whispered in a tone that was almost sepulchral.
With a trembling and terrified voice, Hiccup squeaked, "Is that why my Dad hates me now? Because I was born weak...and... and my Mum died?". Hiccup struggled to get this question out, fighting the more insidious thought that flashed and burned hot in his mind, but remained unspoken.
Gobber jolted back, surprise flashing across his face at the significance of the question. "No, lad. Whatever gave you that crazy idea? Your Dad doesn't hate you. It's just difficult for him being a Viking Chief, and you, well, don't really fit the mould of a chief's son; all brainy-like and no brawn." Waving his hands, gesturing to all of Hiccup.
Hoping his words soothed the distraught youth, Gobber waited patiently for Hiccup to speak again, trying to decipher the sullen boy's thoughts by his body language and facial expression. With a roll of his eyes, Hiccup shot back, "Thank you, for summing that up." before falling silent again.
After continuing to mull over Gobber's words, Hiccup finally stuttered diffidently, "I... I think you're wrong." His voice quivered as he continued, "When Dad's around me, he's always so angry. He won't look at me and barely speaks to me anymore. He doesn't check on me when I'm sick, or care if I've eaten. He doesn't even notice if I haven't been home for days. It's like I'm invisible, and he wishes I hadn't been born. H-He thinks I'm worthless as a Viking..." the boy paused and dropped his head in shame, his voice becoming a whisper, "... and a son." The honest admission of the terrible truth he'd been harboring in the dark recesses of his mind deflated his small body, causing his shoulders to slump in defeat.
Without raising his head, Hiccup huffed out a breath, "He may have wanted a son, but not the one he got..." his voice quiet and toneless.
Gobber noted how small and frail his young friend looked, seeing the gentle and kind nature of Val amplified in the small figure who sat lonely and lost in front of him, craving acceptance and needing attention. Hiccup was a smart, gentle, and honest kid whose soul never grew out of the innocence of childhood as he aged; Gobber doubted it ever would. He was truly different, and for the first time, the large and fierce Viking was privy to just how broken the Chief's relationship was with his son.
The large man slowly reached out and took Hiccup's chin into his hand, gently raising the boy's head. Extreme pity filled the heart of the smithy as he looked into the pained eyes of the young non-Viking. It was like watching the life drain out of the child right before his eyes. For the first time in his life, Gobber was at a loss for words.
"Go home, lad." he said in a gentle, encouraging voice. "Spend some time with your Dad. You'll come to see what I've always known." Standing, the large man gently pulled his young friend from the chair and scooted him toward the door. With a furtive look over his shoulder toward the man standing in front of the warm and comforting fire, Hiccup grabbed the door handle and pulled, his heart longing to stay in the only real place he ever called home.
As the boy stepped out of the forge, his eyes were greeted by the dawn breaking in the east; the birth of a new day. With a pained look crossing his face, the boy secretly hoped the new day would be better than the last.