Stoick went out of the house after Hiccup went off to fly on Toothless. His happy mood was turned on by the thought of his son walking properly again, well, almost. He passed by many Vikings doing their usual tasks to keep the village from breaking apart. Something felt strange as he walked in the streets of Berk. How no one complained and most of all, how Mildew had suddenly disappeared. He hadn't seen him in months, and never had he even thought of looking in his house.
Passing by Gobber's workshop, he thought maybe they could go check it out together. Mostly because Gobber is a better detective than himself, and other reasons. "Gobber! I need your help!" Stoick shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to make the voice louder. He could hear a few metal objects and buckets fall on the ground, following a little trembling sound from a bucket going around and around. Just around the corner of the shop, he found Gobber standing completely still, not moving a single muscle. Crossbows were pointed directly at him, but some places, where there could've been place to a few more of them, were just empty space.
"It appears I've trapped myself in my own… Boobytrap," Gobber whispered, not taking his eyes off the crossbows. Stoick rolled his eyes, getting instructions from his friend about disarming his traps since Gobber was completely useless at the moment.
After an hour or so of trying to get Gobber out of his so called boobie trap, they finally finished. "Now what did ye need help with?" Gobber asked, brushing the imaginary dust off his clothing.
"Well, I walked around Berk, not latterly, and noticed how quiet it was. No complaining at all. And that made me curious of where that grumpy old Mildew and his sheep fungus went off to," Stoick explained, walking out of the forge as Gobber attached his hook.
"And you want to find out where he could be?" Gobber said questioningly, but understood his friend perfectly fine. Stoick nodded and they made their way towards the old man's house.
When they arrived, they went inside and saw everything just as they had expected. Book shelves were empty, closets dusty, bed uncovered, paintings of his three wives and sheep all gone, and table covered in dusty layers. Stoick ran his finger along the table, examining the dustiness of the house while Gobber went around, sniffing at materials. "I think I found something," Stoick said, taking a hold of a letter that was almost invisible to their eye sight. It had been covered with a thick layer of dust and dirt, making the piece of paper get sloppy and having a camouflage that no one with a bad eye would have seen. Gobber walked over to him as he read it. "Out on a fishing trip with me fungus. No time decided," Stoick sighed.
"Another mystery solved, aye?" Gobber chuckled, walking out of the house and headed straight back to work. Stoick stood behind and thought, fishing trip for almost four months? He chuckled to himself, curling the paper into a ball and threw it behind him as he walked out and closed the door. But what they didn't know was that it really wasn't a fishing trip. More like cooperation with a hostile, yet known to the Berkians, Island.