A/N: What's this? Another update? After waiting almost two years, we're on a roll again and from today, we will be on daily updates for the next two weeks. Hope you enjoy!

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Twenty-One: Trainer and Trained

Hiccup froze for a second as Snotlout grabbed an axe, lifted it and ran straight at him and the helpless Gronckle. There was a look without any pity on Snotlout's pallid blue eyes as he raised the axe and aimed straight at the young Viking. Backing up a pace, Hiccup glanced around in panic, for Gobber was too far away to intervene-and what difference would it make if Snotlout got shouted at after Hiccup was dead?

But Snotlout had grabbed Astrid's axe-Astrid's beautiful and perfectly balanced weapon that she had dropped as she had dived away from the Gronckle, her shield raised, two-handed, to parry a heavy lava-blast from the now-incapacitated dragon. And that beautiful weapon was one that Hiccup knew, having handled it in the past. How could he forget it, because it belonged to her? But the blacksmith in him had noted the balance and the vulnerabilities in the axe head and as Snotlout approached, almost in slow motion, Hiccup snatched the shield and swung it up, aiming to hit the axe at a specific point along the blade where the pressure point was sited-and as the shield connected with the side of the blade, the axe shattered.

But the haft was still swinging and it glanced Hiccup's skull, knocking him backwards and collapsing, stunned, to the ground by the slowly-recovering Gronckle. Enraged, Snotlout cast the ruined axe aside and grabbed at one of the twins' spears-only to turn into a fist wielded by Astrid, her face locked in rage. Blinking, the Heir stared at her in incomprehension.

"Mom…Astrid hit me," he whined and collapsed backwards, unconscious. Disgusted, the young woman turned away and hastened over to Hiccup, ignoring the dragon. With a creak, the Gronckle raised its head and Astrid absently reached out and gently scratched under the chin, causing the dragon to roll over onto its side again, pawing blissfully at the air. But Astrid's eyes were on the boy, lying curled on his side, his hand pressed to his head and breathing hard. She tenderly lifted his head a fraction and gently peered into his face.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently as Gobber arrived, crouching by her.

"Mind his head, lass," he murmured. "That was a vicious blow." Hiccup winced.

"Tha's weird…I'm seeing two of you," he mumbled. "As'rid? S-sorry 'bout y'r axe…" A shadow crossed her face and she sighed.

"It can be repaired," she said practically, though her tone revealed she was very unhappy about the loss of her primary weapon.

"When I stop seeing double, I'll do it," Hiccup mumbled, his eyes closed. His head was spinning ferociously, his vision was swimming and he was feeling incredibly sick. She gently stroked the hair off his forehead and sighed.

"I'm not sure my father will let me have another axe-if he's marrying me off," she sighed and cast a sideways glance at the unconscious Snotlout. "Though maybe he may think twice if I can fell him with one punch…"

"Hope so…" Hiccup murmured as Gobber worriedly looked down on his apprentice.

"CLASS DISMISSED!" he yelled and then saw Hiccup wince at the bellow. "Sorry, lad." Hiccup just relaxed, passing out as Gobber frowned with concern: he knew Stoick had been worried about Hiccup's safety in class. But how were either of them to know that it wasn't the dragons but the other students they should be afraid of? Then he looked over at the girl. "That was a nifty trick, Astrid. Yeh picked it up from the boy?" She nodded. "Fast work-well done. You can have an extra credit for that…unlike the muttonhead, who is probably going to be barred. Now can ye help me carry Hiccup to Gothi's and get that head of his checked out." Looking up, she nodded. "And gather up the pieces of the axe as well, lassie. Hiccup will need them to repair it. And he will repair it because you deserve an axe worthy of your skills and reputation." She nodded and helped manoeuvre the boy into Gobber's arms. When they looked up, the Gronckle had ambled back into the cage and Astrid simply had to close the door to secure the Arena. The twins had departed with Snotlout but Fishlegs remained, having gathered up the remains of Astrid's axe and tidied the weapons away.

"Is he going to be okay?" he asked and Astrid glanced at the curled shape in Gobber's arms.

"I am sure he will be fine," she said quietly and then looked up to meet the angry face of her father. "Please let me know how he is. I know Dad won't allow me to ask." And then she nodded to Gobber, lifted her chin and walked proudly from the Arena. Fishlegs sighed and glanced at the blacksmith.

"How did he do that?" he asked. "I mean, I took him through all the dragon types and classes yesterday but that was never in the Book of Dragons…" Eyeing the limp Hiccup, Gobber nodded thoughtfully.

"He's full of surprises, this boy," he commented and glanced over at the cage. "A dragon always-always-goes for the kill…but that dragon got up and put itself back in its cage. It could have attacked Hiccup and Astrid because they were vulnerable….but they weren't a threat."

"He tossed his dagger aside to make himself not a threat," Fishlegs realised.

"He really believes that," Gobber mused as they headed out of the Arena. "Could you take those axe shards to the Forge?" Fishlegs nodded.

"Can I join you up at Gothi's then?" Fishlegs asked. "I mean, he is my friend and I think he deserves to know that there are people here for him…" Gobber nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he watched the Hoffersons walk away, Ivar clearly haranguing his recalcitrant daughter.

"Aye, that he does," he sighed. "But not all of the people who should be there for him are allowed to be."

oOo

Hiccup slowly awoke, his head pounding fiercely and feeling mildly sick. Something told him that he shouldn't open his eyes straight away and he winced as he moved his head slightly. There was a strong pressure on his head and he moved his hand to feel a bandage wound over his head. As his fingers gently explored, he could feel the huge lump where Snotlout had hit him and he grimaced. He guessed he had a concussion.

He listened: he was indoors and there was a fire nearby, from the crackle of wood and the familiar scents. Through his eyelids, he couldn't see any bright lights so he cautiously cracked his eyelids open a slit and peered into the dim space of his room, back in the Chief's House. He was lying on his side, looking towards the main bulk of the house, so he could see the rafters and the warm light gilding the rough-hewn wood. Somehow, he was still in his new home and safe. He hadn't been killed and there didn't seem to be a mob baying for his blood…but Snotlout had tried to kill him…and he had destroyed Astrid's axe.

He groaned quietly. Astrid had been unhappy about that and he could vaguely recall her worrying that she wouldn't be allowed to have another axe, now her father seemed to have decided to marry her off. He grimaced and opened his eyes fully. His vision was stable, even though the light was hurting his eyes mildly, the pressure in his head uncomfortable but tolerable. He had certainly endured worse and he needed to see how much he could manage…because he needed to start work on rebuilding her axe… Slowly he sat up.

There was hammering at the door and he tensed, holding his breath and barely moving as he slowly peered in the direction of the door that he could just glimpse from the platform, though he guessed that no one could see him amid the gloomy shadows above the little platform. The solid shape of Gobber ambled slowly to the door, his prosthetic replaced by a mug that seemed to be sloshing mead as his gait rolled to the door. And he opened the portal-to show the angry shape of Alva Jorgensen standing on the threshold. She tried to walk forward into the house-but Gobber roadblocked the entry and refused to move, insolently sipping his mead as she glared.

"Can I come in?" she demanded.

"No," the blacksmith told her bluntly. "The lad's sleeping and I don't want your sour presence disturbin' him." There was a sharp intake of breath and Hiccup slowly inched round so he could be a little closer and watch what was happening. Alva was right at the threshold, trying to force her way in but being kept outside-and on the back foot-by Gobber.

"I was hoping we could do this discreetly," she said bitingly but Gobber snorted.

"Yer ain't discreet and ye certainly ain't worried about what ye say about anyone else," he told him flatly. "What's yer game?"

"How dare you exclude my Snotlout from Dragon training?" she snapped. "He's the Heir: he has to take part." Gobber sipped his mead without concern.

"And he maybe will be able to take part-just not in this class," he said firmly. "He failed a class and attacked the student who won that class. He could have killed him."

"Killed?" Alva's voice was mocking. "I hardly think disposing of that filthy little slave is any sort of crime. It's practically a public service!"

"I disagree," Gobber scowled and sipped his mead again.

"And why was that ruined piece of trash allowed in class anyway? I am certain his presence put off my Snotlout which is why he was so frustrated…" Alva snapped as the eavesdropping Hiccup cringed…but the blacksmith burst out laughing.

"Have ye heard what ye said?" he scoffed. "Your son frustrated by Hiccup? What does that say about yer precious Snottykins?" Alva hissed in fury. "Yer precious son had flunked out by trying to show off to Astrid before Hiccup was in play. Snotlout had first crack at the dragon-and he blew his chance. Hiccup was the last to face it-and he conquered it. And yer son was so embarrassed and jealous he attacked the boy with an axe."

"Then why isn't he dead?" Alva hissed hatefully.

"Because he is a canny lad and he knew where to hit the axe to break it," Gobber replied smugly. "That and your son was so sloppy using the weapon that he would have missed anyway." He leaned forward and his voice was hard. "Dragon training is dangerous but I cannot allow one student to try a lethal attack on another…"

"Lethal attack?" Alva interrupted and she gave a sickly laugh that made Hiccup's skin crawl from memory of that same laugh while he was their prisoner. "It was just high spirits…"

"I was there and it wasn't," Gobber said. "He's expelled. He can try again next time I run the course. Should be in a couple of years…" Alva lunged forward and jabbed her finger into his chest.

"You can't stop us, no matter how you favour that piece of trash!" she hissed. "We have allies-the Thorstons, the Hoffersons, the Larsons…and they can make life very difficult for you." Gobber laughed in her face.

"And ye know I don't care," he scoffed. "If ye don't wanna service and make all yer own weapons, ye'll treat me with enough respect." Then he gave a nasty smile. "And I'd remove yer finger, Alva, unless ye only want to be able to count to nine!" She gasped as his hand suddenly gripped her finger viciously.

"We can make life very unpleasant for you…and the Chief…" she threatened but Gobber chuckled.

"Ye know that there has never been a Chief as loved and respected as Stoick the Vast?" he told her smoothly. "No matter what ye say with your poisonous forked tongue, Stoick's service speaks for himself. Ye think the village wants yer brainless selfish boy as Chief any sooner than we have to?" There was a pause as Alva backed away.

"Life as a Viking is dangerous and who knows if Stoick will ever return from his obsessive quest for the Nest?" she sneered. "You may be bowing to Snotlout sooner than you think!"

And then she turned and marched away as Hiccup gave a shuddering sigh of relief, seeing Gobber stare after her and drain his mug before slamming the door.

"Yer up then," he said not unkindly and Hiccup nodded cautiously.

"Couldn't really sleep through that," he admitted. "And didn't think saying anything would help."

"Unless what you say is 'I am jumping off the edge of the world'," Gobber quipped and looked up at his apprentice. Hiccup shrugged.

"Maybe it would be for the best," he sighed. "I mean, just by being here, I have got Astrid into trouble, Snotlout's family are threatening to stir up trouble in the village and try to make things hard for the Chief. And it's all my fault!" Gobber lumbered up the stairs and stared at the bowed shape.

"None of it is your fault," he assured the boy, seeing the confidence wane before his eyes. "Hiccup-you were good in class today. You won the class! Everyone else has lived on Berk all their lives and yet you were the one who stopped the Gronckle." He shrugged.

"I cheated," he mumbled. "I…read somewhere if you scratch a dragon there, it calms them…" Gobber frowned but didn't say anything: he could guess that the boy wasn't being truthful because Hiccup was looking very uncomfortable.

"A useful bit of information," he commented reassuringly as Hiccup frowned.

"You really kicked Snotlout out of Dragon Training?" he checked and Gobber grinned, clapping the lad on the shoulder.

"Well that was a bonus," he commented cheerfully. "That muttonhead couldn't pass because he's always too busy boasting to actually pay attention. And when he attacked you…he broke my rules."

"It will only cause more trouble," Hiccup sighed. Gobber patted his shoulder again.

"I can handle trouble-and I can handle them," he claimed cheerfully. "Ye want a drink, lad? I think ye must be dry…" Hiccup nodded and the young man slowly clambered to his feet. He stumbled but Gobber stabilised him. "Easy-we don't want ye breaking your head twice in one day!" Hiccup nodded.

"Sorry, Gobber," he murmured. But the blacksmith was philosophical.

"I'll get you a drink and then we can go for the evening meal," he said. "And an early night. Maybe, if you're feeling better we can do some work in the forge in the morning before Dragon Training." Another curl of guilt hit Hiccup as he recalled Astrid's axe and he nodded. His head was still feeling fuzzy and he couldn't imagine enduring the heat and light and noise of the forge as he was…but in the morning, nothing would stop him rebuilding Astrid's axe, even better than before. He owed her that, at the very least, for having to destroy it to stop Snot.

oOo

He jolted awake, eyes wide open as he heard the thump on the roof. It was late and dark, the fire was out and the only light was provided by a few rays of moonlight filtering between the boarding on the side of the house. It was cold and he snuggled under the furs-but the thump sounded again and he took a panicked breath. Was it Snotlout, up here to make him pay for ruining his chances at Dragon Training? Or maybe Astrid, trying to see him? And then his shoulders slumped. He doubted she would be allowed out of her father's sight, since she had rushed to his side and punched Snotlout in the face on his behalf. Overall, he had made everything worse.

He almost jumped out of his skin as the hatch flipped open and a blast of cold air rolled down onto him. He blinked and looked up into the rectangle of deep squid-ink blue sky, brilliant with ice cold stars-and then he recoiled and fell out of the bed as a blunt smooth head appeared through the gap. The Night Fury-Toothless-gave a gummy smile.

"Oh my Thor!" he gasped. "Toothless! What-what are you doing here?"

"Are ye okay, laddie?" Gobber's voice drifted up from below. Panicking, Hiccup scrambled to his feet.

"Yeah, I'm great," he said hurriedly. "Just fell out of bed while opening the hatch to get some air…"

"Well-close it soon, lad-the house will get cold…" Gobber called thickly and Hiccup made a quick decision, pulling his fur vest and boots on.

"Yes, Gobber. Sorry, Gobber. I'll close it now," he called. There was a pause.

"Sleep well, lad," the blacksmith called and after a moment, he heard the sawing noise of Gobber's snore filling the house. Breathing a sigh of relief, Hiccup scrambled out onto the roof and gently closed the hatch-to find himself sitting alongside the Night Fury, the most feared dragon in the whole of Berk. The fearsome unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself was currently licking his paw before he looked up with a soft warble, his big green eyes dominated by great oblong black pupils, his ear-flaps angled backwards as he sniffed Hiccup's bandaged head. He gave a small croon and Hiccup sighed.

"Yeah-well, I didn't duck quickly enough…but it could've been worse," he admitted as Toothless gave a 'Really?' look. "Yeah-the haft that hit me originally had an axe attached to it," he explained an Toothless growled and then snapped his teeth down, delicately catching the bandage and pulling it off Hiccup's head. Hiccup sighed. "I guess the Elder will be unhappy about that as well," he admitted as the dragon sniffed his head and then very solemnly licked his wound. He tried to pull away. "Hey-that's kinda sticky," he protested but the dragon very carefully licked all around the swollen bump on his head until he finally seemed satisfied-and Hiccup's hair was certainly sticking up in all directions. And then, just as suddenly, the dragon stopped and stood up.

"Done cleaning me up, huh?" Hiccup asked him gently, recalling seeing a cat with her kittens and smiling slightly at the implication. Toothless bowed his head and gave a little croon. There was almost a playful look in his eyes as he glanced down and then back at Hiccup. The boy shook his head.

"I can't get down there on my own," he explained as the dragon shuffled his shoulders and dipped his head again. The boy slowly got to his feet. "You want me to get on?" he guessed and Toothless gave a small nod.

With trepidation, the boy swung a leg over and leaned forward, wrapping his arms round the dragon's neck.

"This is probably the craziest thing I have ever done…and with what's happened to me, that's saying something," he murmured. "Okay-nice and slow. Just jump us down. Please…"

The dragon waggled his butt, bunched his muscles and leapt into the air. And with one flap of the wings, they were gone.