Author's Notes: Thanks for those that reviewed and put this story in their faves and alerts. Thank you! Here's the new chapter.
Warning: This is an AU story. It follows the canon story quite a bit but only just a bit as the story will later progress.
Disclaimer: I don't own How to Train Your Dragon or any of its character. They belong to Cressida Cowell (novel wise) and DreamWorks (movie wise).
Well, This is Expected
Chapter 2: Left Behind
I wipe my brow and decide to take a bit of a break as I dip the woman's now fixed pot into a bucket of water. It is the poor lady's last cooking utensil. Luckily, it only had a slight crack at the bottom. It is something I could still fix without Gobber's supervision. I'm still an apprentice not a miracle worker. I would still need weeks of practice before I could fix any seriously damaged things decently. Guessing that the pot was cool enough, I take it out of the water and wipe it with some clean cloth. I then give it to the woman waiting patiently outside the shop. She insisted on waiting for it since she can't cook anything without it.
"Here it is, Ma'm." I give her the fixed utensil.
She takes it gingerly and looks at it. I feel a little nervous at her inspection. This was just my third time fixing things on my own. All of my apprenticeship so far only involves observing, understanding, listening, and theorizing. I also have the eternal duty of keeping the shop clean and the furnace burning brightly during working days. I don't have much experience yet. But then the woman smiles warmly and gives me two pieces of coins.
"Thank you." She says and walks off.
Well, at least I have one happy customer to brag. The last two people I helped were so dissatisfied with my work that Gobber amended it. My mentor wasn't mad about it though. He said that proper smithing requires lots of experience and practice not to mention that I'm still scrawny. I didn't have the proper upper body strength for the job yet. So ever since then, I was also assigned to wood chopping duty to my horror. It was a job that was really really awful. I lost count on how many times I nearly chopped my hand and feet. I complained about it to Gobber one time. I said that one of the reasons I couldn't be a warrior was because I can't carry an axe and an axe is what I'm precisely using when chopping wood! He just laughed it off and told me not to worry and that the two axes were different. A battle axe was a bit lighter than the one I'm using. It also has a sharper blade. He was just making me use the chopping axe to develop my arm muscles and strength. His explanation didn't assure me one bit and the next day, I almost succeeded in chopping my own head. Gobber immediately pulled me out of wood chopping duty and gave me an everyday task of hammering random metals for a full hour instead. I was also strictly forbidden from going near any kind ofaxe until Gobber proclaimed me as a full-fledged blacksmith himself. I guess I gave him quite a scare with that accident.
I go back inside the shop. I sigh as my eyes land on the rest of the things that still needed smithing. It's a pity I can't do those yet. They are all severely damaged and Gobber is the only one that could fix them. I wearily take off my apron and stretch. My arms are sore and my back is stiff after this busy morning. I should take a nap.
Someone taps on the shop's window counter and I almost jump in surprise. It's more likely customer. This annoys me a bit. Just when I thought I could rest, gods dropped me a new task instead. Sighing, I take my apron again.
"Good morning, dear Sir or Ma'm, how may I help you on this fine mor-"
Words die in my mouth as my eyes lock with the most beautiful sight in the whole wide world. Sweet Odin, Freya, Thor, gods!
"Hi, Astrid! Hi, Astrid! Umm, hi Astrid!"
Oh it's Astrid. Astrid! Astrid Hofferson with the elegant mane of golden sunshine and sparkly blue eyes as clear as the summer sky. It's her with those perfectly white skin and pretty mouth and sexy figure and-
"I need whetstone for sharpening." Her cool voice cuts my thoughts off.
"Huh a what?" I ask and hurriedly go to the counter. It's a bad idea as I trip on my own feet and I sprawl over the dirty floor in seconds. Great job, Hiccup. Embarrass yourself in front of the girl of your dreams, would you?
I stand up immediately. I think Astrid raises her magnificent golden eyebrow at my sudden disappearance and re-appearance trick. "A- a whetsone? For what?" I ask again as I smoothly rest my arm in the counter top and attempt to lean on her face in a desperate effort to come off as charming. Again, bad idea. My arm slips and I fall on the floor again, this time though I brought down a little hammer and scraps of metals with me. Smooth, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. Real smooth.
I faintly hear Astrid sigh in frustration. "Just give me a whetstone, Hiccup." She drawls.
That's one of the things that I really love about Astrid. Many people always calls me by my name but they always say it with various intonations ranging from mocking to downright angry. Honorifics never fail to be included too: Useless, Wimp, Hopeless, Loser, the list goes on although I prefer Fishbone. But with Astrid, it's nothing like that. She says my name as it is. No nicknames. No tones. Whenever she says my name, it's just "Hiccup" Hiccup. It makes me feel that I'm my own real person whenever I'm around her.
"Ok, whetstone. Got it." I say as I scramble up and search the shop.
Stone. Stone. Whetstone. Stone. I rummage through the drawers and tables. Stone. Stone. Where the Hel are the stupid whetstones? !
From the corner of my eye, I see Astrid shift, oh gods does she have lovely hips, and cross her arms in her chest. "If you don't have any then I could just-"
"No!" I yell. She blinks at my sudden outburst. "No, no, no, Astrid. I mean…" I look around the shop. That stupid stone has to be in here somewhere! I never had had a chance to do Astrid a favour. I don't want to mess this up! In my frantic, my eyes fall on the sharpening wheel. I always use that to sharpen swords. Maybe I could use that.
"I could just sharpen your axe here." I tell her with a smile.
She eyes me warily. She has lovely eyes. I hope she trims her bangs a little bit since it hides her left eye but still, she has really really lovely blue eyes.
"Maybe, I'll just go back some other time." There's a tinge of distrust in her voice and it hurts to know that it's justly directed at me. "Maybe I could just borrow from Ruffnut." She says and turns around to walk away.
In a desperate effort to make her stay, I fling half of myself out of the window and grab the handle of her axe.
She whirls around. "What are you doing?" she demands and tries to pull the axe from me.
"Trying to catch some fish." I deadpan.
Astrid gives me a flat look. She's unimpressed by my sarcasm.
"Look, just let me sharpen it. Don't worry. I won't do anything bad to it." I plead.
"Hiccup, just forget about it. I'll just borrow Ruff's whetstone. I can take care of this." She tugs her axe away from me again. Refusing to let go, I hold the axe even tighter and let myself be dragged even further out of the window.
"No. Just let me help. Please, Astrid." I look into her eyes imploringly.
We stare at each other for perhaps a few seconds, though if you ask me it felt like a wonderful eternity, and she sighs in defeat.
"Fine. But sharpen it while Gobber is with you. I'll take back my axe later and if you damage it even just a little bit, I'll snap you in half like a twig." She warns me.
It's nice that she gave me a chance, even if it came with a serious bodily threat. "Don't worry, Astrid. I won't Astrid. Thanks Ast- Oof!" I ungracefully drop on the ground with my left foot caught in the shop's window. She had let go of the axe and walked away, hence my only balance support disappeared. Love hurts.
"Ow…"
"What are you doing, Hiccup?"
I look up and see Gobber staring at me funnily.
"Trying to catch some fish." I reply. I try to pull myself upright but my foot was still in the window and I fall face first on the ground again.
Gobber laughs since he's used to my unique brand of humor. He seems oblivious to my predicament though. "Fish huh? Is it a fish with a mane of golden sunshine and sparkly blue eyes as clear as the sky?" he asks.
I glare at him.
He shrugs. "What? You always describe the Hofferson lass like that whenever you daydream and cause havoc in the shop with your inattentiveness. Hah! Just you getting a glimpse of her from the windows always end up with me having to save your doomed limbs!" he laughs again.
"Thank you for summing that up." I grumble as I attempt to stand up again.
Gobber finally helps me. He hooks the collar of my shirt and brings me inside the shop while dangling me like a freshly caught fish.
He clicks his tongue in disappointment with the sight that welcomed him.
"Sorry," I say. "I'll clean it up later."
The shop is in an entire mess from my search earlier. Tools littering the floor, papers here and there, drawers open and half open.
"Why later when you can do it now, lad?" he asks warningly.
I hold up Astrid's axe in defense. "I need to sharpen this first."
Gobber's eyes narrows at the weapon I'm holding. "Hiccup, what did I say about axes?"
"Never hold or go near them." I answer dutifully.
"Then why are holding one right now, Hiccup?"
He drops me and makes a grab for the axe and I immediately hide it behind my back with great effort.
"Gobber please, I want to fix this myself."
"No, give it here. You clean the shop while I take care of it." His arm went over my shoulder and he grabs the axe handle.
"No, please! It's Astrid's!"
That stops him. He eyes me and I stare back with determination.
"I want to fix it myself because it's Astrid's."
He finally lets go of the axe and then shakes his head. "Well, that explains everything. You should have said so in the first place, lad."
I raise my eyebrow at the accusation. "Sorry, you kind of suddenly tried taking it away from me."
"You can't blame me. It's my immediate reaction ever since the Chopping incident." He grins.
"Could we please forget about that?"
As if he didn't hear me, Gobber continues to talk. "Up until now, I'm still wondering how did that blade came off from the handle and-"
"Gobber!"
He laughs heartily. "Fine. Fine. Now, come on. Let's get to it." He gestures on the sharpening wheel. "I'll let you fix that but because it's a special case. If I caught you attempting to fix another axe again I'll triple your hammering exercise."
One shop clean, one axe sharpened, and a dozen of accidents later, the sun had already set and I am finally walking back home. Gobber told me that I already need to rest since I've been in the forge since early dawn. I wanted to stay a little bit more since Astrid told me that she'll pick up her axe tonight but Gobber insisted my leave. He promised me that if Astrid comes, he'll tell her that the axe isn't ready yet and to just pick it up tomorrow morning. He will let me return the axe to her personally.
My whole body is aching from all the lifting and hammering. Stinging pain constantly throb from my bandaged hands. I got a little careless while sharpening Astrid's axe. I look around. Most of the houses are rebuilt already. The people of Berk have become so used to the damages caused by the raids that constructing and repairing houses have become second nature to them. You have to admire our resiliency, read that as stubbornness, to these dragon encounters. I then observe the dark sky. Stars twinkle and the moon shines brightly. It's beautiful and serene. One will never think that a village under this sky would suffer.
I'm near my home and I notice that there's already light inside. Oh joy, my father got back early. Now, nothing is really bad about that. You see, ever since my mother died, may her soul rest in peace in Valhalla, Dad and I divided the work between us. Sure we could ask other people to do it for us but we're Haddocks. We never let others do our own work. So, farm managing fell into my father's hands while housekeeping and cooking became my responsibility. The two of us were happy with the arrangement. I don't mind doing women's work. There's nothing wrong with it and I can't picture my Dad sewing and cleaning the house. It's… it's something that's downright weird. Cooking is something that I really enjoy too. I always prepare breakfast and dinner. Lunch, not so much since we tend to eat at the mead hall during that time of the day. But whenever Dad is home earlier than me, he tries to cook dinner. Tries. Now, believe me when I say that my father is as good at cooking as I am with fighting. Yes. Dad and the kitchen are a nasty combination. I could still remember the black-lump-piece-of-whatever-poor-animal meat I was forced to eat one time. It resulted to a late night visit with the village healer. I made it a point to arrive home earlier than him since then. I do not want to die from food poisoning.
Nervously, I speed up my walk and smell smoke. Alarm bells start ringing in my head. Beard of Thor! Something's burning! Food is burning! The house is burning!
"Dad!" I yank our door open and discover something… weird.
My dad looks at me with surprise. He's holding a wooden stick with a piece of meat pierced in it. Apparently, he's roasting dinner on the living room bonfire. Roasting. Dinner. In. The. Living. Room. Bonfire. All right, I know that every house in this village had those little furnaces in the living room for purposes of boiling water or keeping the house residents warm during the cold nights but not for cooking. Cooking belongs to the kitchen!
"Hiccup." Dad's greeting snaps me out of my horrified stupor.
"Uh hey, dad." I greet back. My eyes are still glued to the burning furnace and roasting meat. Gods, this is simply isn't done. I start to mourn inside. Cleaning the house tomorrow will be a pain in the neck. The furnace ashes will be hard to clean.
Silence reign the room as I continue to just stare at the fire. The mood of the situation is… awkward. My father clears his throat to get my attention.
"Oh, dinner's ready." He says. "I roasted some beef while you're still out." He gestures the space across him and hands me a stick with cooked meat.
I grimace as I take the food and sit. He smiles at me before taking a bite from his self-cooked dinner. I eye the beef warily. It's black and smells burnt. If I didn't see my dad eating it, I'll immediately categorize it as inedible.
"You're not hungry, Hiccup?" Dad asks.
"Huh? Oh! No, no. I am hungry." I reply hastily. Then throwing caution to the wind, I took a bite on the meat. Mom... I want to cry.
"Wow, this is good." I chew slowly and try my best to hide my grimace. "Better than the last one you cooked!" I tell him while my mouth is still full.
Dad smiles at the compliment. "It's good to know that you like my cooking. Your mother used to be disgusted by it. Guess women just have a different taste. Anyway, just chew your food properly this time, Hiccup. Last time you ate my cooking, we went to the healer."
I hold back the tears threatening to flow from my eyes. Odin, is it awful! The beef is absolutely tasteless, tough, and dry. I feel like I'm eating a coal flavoured stone. But my father's pride and happiness at the compliment… he just looks so happy. I can't tell him the truth. I can't tell him how justified Mom was with her disgust in his cooking. Dear sweet Freya. Mom, I wish you're still here so I wouldn't be subjected to this kind of torture. I miss you so much. I swallow the food with great difficulty. But then I smile, painfully, to my father.
"Thanks, dad."
He then passes me another beef on a stick. I almost cry at the gesture. Dad is so oblivious to my expressions. He must have thought that I still want more. I still take the food nonetheless and start eating so I won't offend him. Things I do for love.
The dinner continues in silence. There's just the crackling of the fire, chomping of food, and an occasional shuffling of feet. Not that this is out of the ordinary. Breakfast and dinners we spent together are always like this. We don't really have much to talk about. I can't really say anything about smithing, dragons, or Viking issues. He will be confused, angry, and disappointed respectively. He can't talk about village and Viking issues either since that will only lead to anger and disappointment as well. He's still trying to fix the mess I made on the last raid I screwed up. We never talk about Mom too. It's just… awfully painful do so. We miss her so much.
My father suddenly stands up. "I have something to tell you, Hiccup."
I frown at that. This must be something serious judging from the tone he used. I thankfully drop my food. "Yes?"
"Tonight, I will be leaving with your Uncle and a handful of Vikings to the Juardu tribe." He says.
"What for?" I ask alarmingly. "Is there going to be a war?"
Aside from the dragon pests, Berk also worries for something else. Our village is full of resources and many tribes fought us for it. The Meat Head tribes are one of our greatest foes, they are as strong and tenacious as us but their attacks sorely lack smart planning. They also have lousy leadership, that's why they could always be beaten. The Long Shots and Shrimp Wimps, both coastal villages, made an alliance once to try and invade us by sailing and attacking from the Freezing to Death River. Their plan was good and creative. It was also one of the "close-call" battles since our village couldn't protect itself from their skilled archers. The invasion only failed because the enemies' food and weapon supply ran out. Their situation also got worse when they got involved in a dragon raid. Whether or not we are at war with other people, dragons still come to raid Berk. The fire breathing creatures torched their ships and burned their people. The Long Shots and Shrimp Wimps have retreated at that. They must have pass the word about the dragons to others too since the Meat Heads stopped their constant attacks and instead asked for our alliance. The Juardu tribe and Bog Burglars followed soon after too. Apparently, the other villages thought we made the dragons attack the invaders. Oh, if they only knew the reality. But our village went along with the belief. It was a chance to rid ourselves of human enemies. So the alliance was made. The Meat Heads, Bog Burglars, Juardu, and Berk are brothers and sisters in war and trade. Each tribe is free to travel and stay in each other's villages with small to no fees. Some items will also be exclusively traded to the members of the alliance – like Gobber's weapons and armours. If any other village attacks any member of the alliance, the remaining members must help and protect the affected ally and fight against the attacker.
The alliance was strong and enduring. It's already three generations old. The other tribes eventually learned the truth about the dragons though. That was a mess. Meat Heads and Bog Burglars accused us of lying and deceit while Berk vehemently denied the accusations. It was terrible. Meat Head and Bog Burglars were gearing for war. The alliance was on the verge of dissolving. It was Juardu who settled the matter by saying that they themselves offered the alliance and not Berk. Berk didn't imply to any of them that they could control dragons. It was something they believed through hearsays. Besides, all of the villages are benefiting well from the alliance. There was really nothing to complain. And so, albeit reluctantly, the issue was ended but it was never forgiven.
The alliance is only in effect by trade so far and never by war. But for father to say that he needed to go to Juardu with Vikings in tow? Is Juardu attacked? Who attacked them when in fact Juardu is the most peaceful village I know? Is this full-out war or just counterattack? Defense? Odin, my father is the first chief to go to war for the sake of the alliance.
"A messenger came, said there were strange sightings in their land. Flying shadows during the night to be exact. Their queen fears that they're dragons. She asks for our help." Dad answers as he takes a bag and starts packing.
"What?" I say incredulously. "Okay, I'm glad that you're not really going to war after all but are you saying that we'll be leaving this dragon infested place only to go to a potentially dragon infested place?"
My father sighed in frustration. "No, Hiccup. There's no "we". Only I, Spitelout, and a few other Vikings will leave for Juardu."
"Which is a potentially dragon infested place." I add.
Dad growls in annoyance. "Hiccup! This is serious. Dragons are going to try to raid our ally!" he yells.
"I know, Dad. But it's Juardu, a place across the Meat Head tribe and Helheim's Lake. How could dragons be able to go there? And if dragons are there, why should we help? It's not part of the alliance's deal-"
"I'm a Viking, Hiccup. It's an occupational hazard! Vikings deal with dragons wherever they are!"
His green eyes glare with fury at me. His thick red beard trembles in anger. "I'm disappointed with you, Hiccup. As the village chief's son you should understand this."
I hang my head low, unable to meet his gaze. "Sorry, Dad. But after Mom, I…" I trail off unable to continue my sentence. I might have come off as selfish and insensitive because of my statements earlier but… I'm only just a teenager with only one relative left. I saw my Mom be ripped away from me and I was helpless to do anything about it. I don't want that to happen again. I tried, and still trying, to become a Viking to get closer to my Dad. I want to become a Viking to honour my mother, to make Dad proud. I want to become a Viking to be able to fight alongside him and to make sure that I won't lose him the same way I lose Mom. But I'm not a Viking right now, I can't help him. I can't stop him. I don't want him to die. If the fight against dragons is in Berk, I won't mind. The people in here will always have my father's back. But in Juardu? I don't know. I don't know any Juarduan to say I could trust them with my Dad. I don't know.
I feel my father's hand gravely patting my head. "I understand, son. But this just had to be done." Pain was evident in his voice. I just reminded him with Mom.
"Then, I'll go with you!" I say stubbornly.
"Hiccup" Dad's face is stern and he grips my shoulder. "You will stay here."
"But-"
"You can't fight. You can't protect yourself, and you're all… this" he waves his hand at me.
"You just gestured to all of me." I flatly say.
"Yes, all of you. Hiccup, you…" He sighs "Look son, you just can't come with me. It will be dangerous for you. You might fall off the ship..."
"Dad-"
"You might set the ship on fire…"
"Well, that will be stupid. I-"
"You might chop your head or any of our heads off…"
"Hey, that won't-"
"You might offend the queen…"
"I most certainly would no-"
"You might even cause a war between the two villages."
Now that is something I won't ever dream of doing. "Dad, I won't cause a war between villages." I say exasperatedly.
"Oh yes, you would." He insists, his eyes looking at me knowingly.
Well, I am a bit nosy and klutzy and trouble always seems to follow me. "Ok, rephrase." So, a little correction will be needed. "I will never cause war between villages intentionally." I tell Dad.
"That still means you might cause a war between villages." He points out.
"No, Dad. I'm really very extra sure that I won't." I try to convince him. Seriously. I mean I do mess up sometimes but I won't mess up on that kind of scale. I'm eligible to travel to Juardu with them.
"Listen to me, son..."
Uh oh, he's using the Chief tone. He only uses the Chief tone when his decisions are set in stone. No. No. "Can you not hear me?" I ask desperately.
"When you travel to other villages, it means you are qualified to carry the name of our village. You will represent all of us. Right now, you can't, Hiccup. You're not ready. You're still all… this." He waves his hand to me again.
All right, now that's annoying. "You just gestured to all of me!"
"Yes and that's why you have to stay. Now, do we have a deal?" he asks menacingly.
"This conversation is feeling very one-sided." I deadpan. Come on, Dad. You didn't even listen to anything I have to say.
"Deal?" he asks again with a bit more force in it.
I sigh in defeat. Nope. As usual, he would not listen to me. "Deal." I answer reluctantly. I roll my eyes in annoyance. When will Dad ever listen to me?
"Good." My father nods and is satisfied with my compliance. He finishes packing and heads to the door.
"Train hard with Gobber. Try to stay out of trouble. I'll be back… probably." he says and opens the door.
I hate this and I'm mad about it. "And I'll be here." I say tartly. He gives me one last look and then goes out.
I look at the slowly retreating figure outside and say "Maybe". But Dad doesn't hear that. He never ever does.
Author's Notes: Told you, things will be different. *snickers*