Author's Notes:
• Copyrights to How To Train Your Dragon belong to Dreamworks and Cressida Cowell.
• Sora / Kingdom Hearts is copyrighted Testya Nomura and the team at Square Enix.
• The only thing that could possibly count as my own original idea would be the Terrible Terror's name.
• I realize these are all scattered and out of order. But that's the point in one-shots. These are just random ideas that pop into my head that I write down involving the idea of Sora ever ending up on Berk.
• For those of you who are wanting me to write an actual story from these: I'm not sure if I want to do that. For those of you who have noticed, I haven't written anything using Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III directly. My reason? I'm afraid too. I'm unsure I could give his character the justice it deserves as I've never used him before for anything. The reason for that being that I have a buddy of mine that I Role-Play with on another website that plays Hiccup. And, as I've confided in her, I'm extremely uncomfortable with the idea of playing a character I've long since started to associate with someone else.

It was just another chilly night in Berk. Nothing special. Nothing new. Nothing worth serious thought. It wasn't unheard of for the forge to alive with fire either. To have it happen to late at night wasn't a common occurrence, but it was, like the bitter wind outside, nothing worth serious thought. What was an unheard of predicament was being hard at work, sweating away the pounds by the roaring fires, and seeing a Terrible Terror skitter across the floor, poking its head in every nook and cranny it could fit its nose into.

And where there is one Terrible Terror, there are bound to be at least twenty more.

"Oh no. I'll not have an infestation in MY forge!"

One quick hand change from a hammer to an axe later and Gobber the Belch found himself standing just outside of the back room of the forge. The very same room that was a pain for him to squeeze into and had been altered a bit to house his apprentice amongst the storage supplies. The Terrible Terror from before ran in between his foot and peg-leg, seeming to ignore the much larger Viking all together. Gobber couldn't resist himself and poked his head in, watching to see where the little dragon hid. While he was against going in and poking around his apprentice's privacy, having a colony of Terrors living in there was not going to be tolerated. And he wouldn't put it past Hiccup to have "adopted" a colony or two of Terrible Terrors. The brunette seemed to favor the company of dragons over people anyway.

The little green Terror weaved in between two large, empty wicker baskets, chirping the entire time as if it was calling for someone. Gobber held his breath and strained his ears, trying to pick up on any other sounds. He heard what sounded like whispering, but he couldn't make out what was being said. And, as far as he knew, dragons didn't whisper.

"Boy, if ya think I can't hear ya, you're strongly mistaken."

There was a violent jerking motion and what sounded like something banging against one of the wooden shelves hanging off of the wall. The poor lighting in the room was soon fixed by Gobber, who left the doorway for a split second to fetch a lit wax candle. He forced his way in through the doorway, grateful for being smaller than Stoick, and used his candle to light the ones already located inside. What he saw was not what he was expecting to say the least.

Gobber had known there was somebody inside, but had jumped to conclusions and assumed it was his lanky apprentice attempting to house more dragons. Looking back on it, it was a stupid mistake. If Hiccup had been in there, Gobber would have heard him enter. And, if for whatever reason he was too engrossed in his work to notice him that Night Fury of his would be sitting just outside one of the windows or the main entrance like an overgrown ebony guard dog.

While he had been wrong about it being Hiccup, he had been right in there being a person in there. It wasn't anyone Gobber recognized though. The boy before him was scrawny in the same sense as Hiccup, but had a bit more height to him. His light chocolate brown hair was spiked up at such insane angles Gobber was left wondering why anyone would see such a hairdo as stylish or what use it could possibly have. He had a sheepish grin on his face, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his head where he had likely hit it against a shelf or two. His blue eyes were deep and dark, the irises themselves having a second black ring within them for Thor only knows what. His shrunken black pupils seemed to be being swallowed by the ocean. A blanket was pooled around his bare feet. He wore a pair of puffy black shorts adorned with criss-crossing yellow straps and large red pouches. His hands and arms were as bare as his calves and feet. A sleeveless blue shirt with another strange red design that was likely another pouch adorned his torso. The only other significant thing about him was a chain hanging around his neck with what looked like a metal crown dangling from it.

The boy gave a nervous chuckle, clearly unsure just what he should do or say. "Um . . . S - sorry for - for being back here," he stuttered just as sheepishly as his facial expression implied he felt. Gobber didn't recognize him, and he made sure he knew all of the youths that would have potentially become dragon killers under his guidance not so long ago.

An earlier conversation came to mind, one that had taken place a few hours before now. Gobber had met up with his childhood best friend and current chief, Stoick the Vast, and enjoyed a late night trip to the Great Hall to talk about further plans for the dragons. But it seemed that accommodating the temperamental reptiles was the last thing on the man's mind. Gobber knew something was up instantly and started pestering and prodding his friend over a few drinks and some supper. Stoick held him off until nobody else was within the Great Hall before confiding in the blacksmith as to what his problem was.

Apparently, at least according to Stoick, Hiccup had a habit to taking in the homeless. And not just dragons either! First the Night Fury, now another person! But that wasn't the part that drove Stoick near the brink of insanity. The boy obviously hadn't been Viking born and, after startling the poor lad and his son, had discovered something that set the larger man off. A flash of light. A mysterious weapon. And a lot more questions than there were answers. And while he didn't know the boy's name or his origins, all that mattered was what he had found out. His son had tried to explain the detail away. It was strange that Astrid had been in his house at such a late hour at night, but stranger still was that she was right there next to his son, offering both a physical support and back-up for Hiccup's accusations. But Stoick would have none of it. After ordering Astrid to "escort" the boy to the Great Hall to be dealt with later (and deciding the girl had been spending way too much time around his son when she dared to open her mouth and openly question his orders), Stoick decided it was time to get some answers out of his son once Astrid finally complied and the foreigner were gone.

Stoick learned quite a few things whether his son intended for him to learn or not. And most of what he learned he didn't like. Stoick had long forgotten the boy's name; having said was it something foreign. He also learned that the boy had shown up not too long ago after his ship crashed and was rendered useless. Just how long the brunette had been on the Isle of Berk was beyond Stoick since Hiccup wouldn't say just how many nights it had been. But what really set him off, and for reasons Stoick was not at liberty to disclose why it irked him, the foreign boy one of those Keyblade Bearers. Now, everyone knew the stories of a warrior wielding a magical sword going around slaying monsters of darkness manifested into physical, violent beings. Stoick knew a detail or two that was no common knowledge that unsettled him. Details not even Gobber could worm out of his friend, which was what worried him the most.

Gobber blinked, coming out of his memories with a sudden head shake. The boy hadn't moved other than his hand going away from the back of his head and his sheepish grin becoming a bit more confident and comfortable. Stoick hadn't told Gobber much on the foreigner's appearance, but the thing Gobber remembered clearly was something about a chain and crown around his neck. Why somebody would wear something as demeaning as a collar was beyond the Viking chief. The fact that the only form of tags the boy wore on the chain being that of a crown lead Stoick to wonder just who had ownership of the brunette. And who, in their right minds, sold their child off into slavery.

Seeing it before him now, Gobber found himself wondering the very same thing. Being a craftsman of metal, Gobber couldn't stop himself and barely registered what he was doing when he reached out and gently lifted the crown insignia, gently rubbing it and turned it over between his large fingers. "Mind explain'n to me why you're taking up space back here?" What finally made him realize just what he had done was hearing the boy make a faint sound that sounded like a strangled squeak. Not wanting to further startle the kid, Gobber slowly pulled his hand back and took a step to give the boy another once over.

The boy looked up at him, his wide blue irises likely taking in his appearance as much as Gobber was examining his. It looked like he wanted to tell him, but something was holding him back. Putting two and two together, Gobber sighed and shook his head. The boy clearly knew how to speak Norse at least. And if this was the same kid Stoick had talked about, then how or why was he back here? More likely than not, Hiccup had something to do with it. But Stoick had said that Astrid had been the one he ordered to keep an eye on and take him to the Great Hall for questioning. Which meant this boy had either out run her, ha somehow out smarted Astrid, or the girl was in on the whole thing as well. Not exactly something Gobber would ever expect of the blond.

"Are you - - - " Gobber started but was cut off.

"Please don't be mad at him!"

Gobber blinked, completely dumbfounded by the request. The boy's expression looked serious and almost pleading. The blacksmith quirked an eyebrow at this. "Look, what my 'prentice does is none of my business. But when it concerns my forge, then I want to know what's going on back here." The boy blinked at this, clearly unsure how to respond to that. Whether it was because this wasn't the same kid Stoick had talked about or he didn't know that his apprentice was Hiccup was anyone's guess.

But what the brunette said next threw Gobber off even more.

"The forge? . . . Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed as if a fireball had gone off over his head, "This place is the forge! Hiccup said the blacksmith worked here!" Almost as soon as he said this, the boy's face contorted to that of shock and fear before slamming both of his hands over his mouth.

Gobber threw back his head and laughed at this. "Oi, don't get your undies in a twist."

The boy's expression morphed from fear to confusion faster than a Hiccup could accidentally blow something up. "You're not... mad...?"

Gobber shook his head, slapping his hand against his thigh in amusement. "No, I'm not mad. Just wish my 'prentice had seen fit to tell me he was hiding you here."

Yet again, the boy's face changed as quick as lightning and now expressed innocent confusion as his brain finally caught up to his mouth again. "Wait... Hiccup's your apprentice?"

Gobber nodded his head, a stupid grin plastered across his face. If he was put off that Hiccup hadn't seen fit to tell the boy that little detail, Gobber refused to show it. "Aye. Has been ever seen he was itty bitty." Gobber demonstrated this by bending down waving a hand carelessly just above his right knee. This, in turn, caused the foreign brunette to smile and snicker quietly.

Seeing as how things had settled down and become less hostile between the two of them, Gobber chose now to try and figure out a few things. "You got a name boy? Can't go around calling you "Boy" the entire time Hiccup intends to hide you back here now can I?" Whatever reaction Gobber was expecting from the brunette, it wasn't the look of worry to cross the brunette's face. "It's Sora, sir." Gobber cocked his cranium to one side, curious as to why the boy looked so fretful. "If you're worried I'm going to kick you out, put those fears to rest. I ain't gonna send somebody out on their own in this weather. 'Specially not a child as scrawny as you are." The look of worry remained despite that reassuring gesture. "'N I ain't gonna rat ch'yu out to Stoick neither. You've done nothin' wrong s'far's I can tell." The boy's face relaxed a bit, but he was still clearly worried about something. "Please don't tell his dad that I'm hiding back here. I don't want him to get in even more trouble." Gobber righted his head at this and gave it a gentle shake. "Don't worry about that. I've hidden things far worse from Stoick." At this, any lingering traces of concern vanished. Either this kid was overly trusting or he could tell Gobber wasn't lying. Either way, it got the boy to finally relax.

Gobber gave him a shrug before turning and heading back out of the room. "But yer gonna have to earn yer keep, Sora." No sooner had Gobber reached the main part of the forge did he hear the rapid succession of footsteps against the stone flooring. The man turned around and saw the brunette standing behind him, grinning from ear to ear like a complete loony. Gobber quirked an eyebrow at this, but couldn't suppress a laugh. "You're a strange one. Is everyone as crazy as you are wherever it is you came from?" Sora's lips pulled back to reveal his teeth, his smile never wavering in the least. "Some of them are. Astrid thinks I'm crazy." Gobber rolled his eyes at this, but he grinned none the less. "Lass thinks everyone's crazy. Don't take it personally. I'm amazed she's talk'n to you at all."

Dropping the subject at that, Gobber moved to stroke the dying fires. Apparently he'd been in the back for far longer than he had hoped he would have been. His work was made instantly easier when the Terrible Terror was earlier returned and fired off a stream of narrow fire at the dying embers, bringing the flames back to life almost instantly. Gobber eyed the little dragon before the beast took flight and landed on top of Sora's spiky head. "Thanks for that, Spit!" the brunette praised cheerfully. Gobber blinked at this before shrugging and straightening his spine. So the boy had taken to a dragon already eh? Just how long had he been in Berk?

Gobber turned his back on the boy, switching his axe hand out against for a pair of large metal tongs he himself had fashioned for working in the extreme heat of the forge. He placed the axe on the wall before going back to his previous work; melting metal down into nails. With the recent addiction of dragons, there was a need to build shelters for the beasts. And while quite a few had been made so far, the need for more room seemed to be growing with each passing day. The idea of turning the now useless dragon arena into a temporarily shelter was in effect for the dragons that hadn't bonded with a Viking yet, but more dragons seemed to be showing up daily, thus, adding to the problem. Shortages of metal were cut down to size (literally and figuratively) since weapons weren't in such demand for the time being. Maintenance was still required, but since no dragon raids were going on, weapons were put on hold. Besides, there was no talk of any raids in the near future either. What weapons people were willing to part with were being surrendered to the forge to be melted down for their metal. And any saddle making had been moved into Hiccup's hands since Gobber wasn't comfortable taking the boy's designs and using them without permission. He'd only fashioned the saddle and fin for Toothless as a special order that he probably would never do again for anyone else. Gobber had dealt with Hiccup for so long that he almost considered his friend's son his own.

The pregnant silence that loomed over his head was put on hold when he heard a noise behind him, reminding the blacksmith that he was not alone tonight. Gobber was used to having Hiccup around the forge working, but not at this late hour. He turned to see Sora sitting on the front window where people used to drop off their weapons to be repaired. The Terrible Terror was still sitting on his head, its tail dangling down behind Sora's head. The brunette was watching Gobber's work, seeming to be lost in thought. "Oi, Sora? What do you know about blacksmiths?"Sora blinked, clearly coming out of a trance and whatever thoughts he might have been having. "Hiccup said a blacksmith made weapons," he answered after about a minute's worth of silence. Gobber looked back to his work before pulling out the long iron rod he was currently working on to dump it into a cooling vat, causing steam to rise. "We do plenty of that. But I'm not making a weapon right now." This, in turn, caused Sora to look at the older man strangely, as if trying to make sense his words. "What are you making then?" Gobber gave a faint shrug, as if what he was doing was boring. "Nails. Gotta make more shelters for the dragons ya know?"

The subject was soon dropped at that. Either Sora didn't know about the recently ended 300+ years war with the dragons or he had already been told and therefore understood the demand. Gobber thought that Sora was watching his every move until he turned around and the brunette was gone. Shrugging, figuring the boy had better things to be doing, he turned around to rekindle the fire when he saw the fire rise to life on its own again. Sitting on the floor in front of the now roaring flames was Sora, a look of childish glee on his face. At first, Gobber just blew it off as Sora requesting his dragon to help the fire come back to life. The blacksmith threw a few logs in before he noticed the Terror was curled up on the windowsill. Slowly, Gobber looked the brunette over again, trying to see if he was concealing a candle or a torch.

"How did you do that?" Gobber asked despite himself.

"Do what?" Sora questioned and tilted his head back to look up at the man.

"Whatever it is you did to rekindle the fire."

Sora looked unsure for a moment before sighing in what sounded like defeat. "It's a trick I use. But Hiccup said it's not normal around here and that I shouldn't do it where people can see me."

Ah... That explains it. Sora had thought Gobber had his back to him and wouldn't take notice of whatever it is that he had done. Shrugging it off, the blacksmith moved the now red-hot steel over to his anvil, preparing to begin pounding the metal into shape to later be cut down into smaller nails. "Is that so? And why can't I know about it?" Gobber was only half joking. He was used to kids keeping their secrets despite the fact that he himself had never had children of his own. The knowledge came from training new recruits in dragon training and years of dealing with his best friend's only son.

The answer he got, however, stopped the older man from continuing his work.

"It's magic. Hiccup asked me to try and teach him too."

Gobber stopped mid-swing to turn and look at the boy as if he'd never seen him before. Magic? That stuff couldn't possibly exist! It was hard enough to imagine this boy was really one of those Keyblade Something-Or-Others. Sora noticed the silence as well, because his innocent smile was long gone and replaced with a slightly serious demeanor. Something Gobber thought looked a bit odd on the runt. "I can't say I've ever see real magic. And I'd advise against trying to teach Hiccup. He's likely to burn all of Berk down if you did." Gobber was only half kidding, but Sora's expression softened up a bit. "I could show you, but you have to promise not to tell Hiccup if I did. He might get mad." Gobber chuckled at this. Wherever Sora had come from, he had picked a good person to stick with during his stay in Berk. He gave a nod of his head, curious as to just what Sora could and would do that he called "magic".

Sora jumped to his feet, giving the Terror time to climb onto his shoulder. He brought his right hand up to this chest before swinging it down to his side. A bright flash of light went off in the palm of his hand, which remained and elongated itself. It died away to reveal something that resembled a large key. The hand guards looked to be made of solid gold and the blade itself was silver. The key's "teeth" was a rectangle with what looked like a crown cut-out. A thick metal chain dangled behind the handle, sticking out from the sword's pummel. Gobber didn't catch sight of the symbol hanging from the chain before he was drawn to Sora's movements again. He spun it around deftly between his fingers before pointing the end of it at the fire. Nothing happened at first and Gobber would have thought the kid was just playing with him until he felt a strange surge of energy come from in front of him. Mere seconds later, the blunt tip of the blade lit up and a fireball the size of Gobber's pinky finger shot out toward the fire. The roaring flames themselves seemed unaffected by the change, but Gobber could have sworn his jaw hit the floor. "How... how did you DO that? And - And what is THAT thing!" He looked the boy over again for the umpteenth time that night. Sora didn't shy away from him. Instead he opted to flash another toothy grin. "I told you; it's magic! And this," he cried with excited enthusiasm before producing his blade before the older man, "is the Keyblade!"

That's it. Gobber knew he'd gone crazy. Too much inhaled ash most likely. The blacksmith reached out and fingered the tip of the blade before yanking his hand back. He looked to Sora, trying to read his expression. The brunette didn't seem bothered by his prodding, but swung the sword around for a moment before dismissing it in a similar fashion the way he had summoned it. Well, one thing was certain; Stoick hadn't been yanking his remaining leg. Not that Gobber had ever doubted him in the first place or anything. What he still didn't understand was why Stoick was so against the boy being around when all the old stories said that the Keyblade Bearer worked to protect others. There was something Stoick knew that Gobber and everyone else in Berk didn't and he was now more determined to figure out just what those things were.

"Hiccup's dad got mad when he saw it. Did I something wrong?"

Gobber snapped out of his thoughts when he registered what Sora was asking. Sora looked worried again; something Gobber was learning he didn't like seeing. "I can't say for sure, but don't worry about it. I'll handle Stoick since I'm actually curious about that as well." Sora donned another smile at this. Gobber returned the gesture. "Besides, it's not WHO you are that Stoick doesn't like. It's WHAT you are that bothers him." Sora's smile dropped as he quirked an eyebrow, trying to make sense of what Gobber had said. Apparently, Hiccup had also failed to tell him that Gobber was horrible at making people feel better about themselves.

Gobber went back to his work, but felt like talking anyway since there was somebody else around to hold a conversation with. "Who made that Keyblade anyway?" The blacksmith didn't turn away from his work even when Sora didn't answer the question right away. "Hiccup asked the same thing. I don't know who made it though." Gobber shrugged and watched the steel rod he had been working with earlier turn white over the fire, making it an ideal time to work on molding it. "Really now? That's odd. I would think whoever made it would want their names known for credit." Gobber could have sworn he heard Sora move around behind him, but concentrated on his work to prevent any screw ups he would have to take time to fix.

"Who do you serve anyway?" Honesty, Gobber was hoping for some answers about that crown Sora wore around his neck.

"I guess, in a sense, I serve His Majesty. But I fight for what I believe is right, even if it means going against him."

Gobber couldn't help but think of some of the other nations to the south of Berk. There were places that they tended to raid for their riches and edible goods that had what, Gobber had learned, was called a "monarchy". A lot of the "knights" down there served the "king" and fought for him rather than be on the front lines with his men. This, in the eyes of the Vikings, was very cowardly of their leaders. "You're from somewhere down south then eh? You're a long way from home, Sora." Gobber ceased in his hammering to look back at the brunette.

Sora was fiddling around with one of Hiccup's odd tools that were far too small for Gobber to use due to the massive difference in the sizes of their hands. Sora didn't look as cheerful as he had been earlier, but he was quick to mask it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Probably. But they know I'm okay and Hiccup said he was going to try and help me get home again." Gobber shouldn't have been surprised by this. Hiccup was proving to have a knack for attempting the impossible and helping out the under dogs. Which was fine by Gobber's standards. He always tended to side with the ones nobody thought would make it. Hence why he had pushed Stoick to let Hiccup into dragon training. That gamble had proven to be worth it even after the truth about Toothless came out.

"So, what can I do to help out and earn my keep around here?"

Gobber looked at Sora with a wry grin. "We can start by figuring out just how accurate your hammer swings are." The older blacksmith pulled a smaller hammer off of the wall and handed it over to the lanky teenager. "Hiccup's been scaring away customers lately anyway. Few are willing to come over here with a Night Fury on guard duty."

Several hours later, and Gobber hadn't learned much about the kid as a fighter. But what he had learned about the foreign brunette left the older man perplexed. While Sora didn't look very powerful, he had an untapped strength from within and an even bigger heart. He couldn't resist helping Gobber out even if he knew nothing on the subject at hand. He was a little less accident prone than Hiccup was, but he was more likely to bring harm onto himself rather than those around him. And his attention span wasn't much better than Hiccup's either. One second he's watching Gobber smash a block of steal into shape, and the next thing Gobber knows Sora's laughing and chasing his Terror around the room. If he had a question, he was not above making himself look like an idiot to get some answers. The brunette was quite a bit more outwardly expressive than his peers too. His aim wasn't too bad either.

Gobber hadn't gotten as much as he would have wanted done, but he actually didn't mind that too much. Granted, it was still weird to have Sora in the forge. The boy had long since passed out on a wooden work bench, snoring softly while his Terrible Terror (Spitfire as Gobber had learned it had been named) was curled up against the boy's side. No amount of poking, threatening, or pinching could get the boy to wake up. Not wanting to leave Sora out in plain view of anybody who walked past the forge, Gobber sighed and slung the brunette over his shoulder. Spitfire awoke and protested but Sora never made a sound. Gobber moved him back into the back room with the rest of the storage and whatever odd bits and ends Hiccup had saved up. Gobber rolled out Sora's earlier blanket on the floor before settling him down, Sora never making a sound other than the occasional incoherent mumble. Spitfire snuggled up against the boy's stomach and passed out again not too long after.

With the boy fast asleep, Gobber took his chances and picked up the crown symbol hanging from Sora's neck. It was flat and smooth over the front it. Definitely made by a master craftsmen who knew what they were doing. But the back of it had nothing to it other than attaching itself to the metal chain. If the symbol really was a sign of whoever "owned" Sora, Gobber didn't understand it. And the idea that somebody would consider the hyper little kid an object or a pet rather than a person bothered him somehow.

The sun was starting to rise over the horizon, telling Gobber it was long past his time to head home and get some shut eye. The blacksmith put out the last of the dying fires before closing up shop. He stopped himself from leaving the building and looked the place over; making sure nothing was out of place. Nothing that could possibly be seen has a third person working and pretty much living in the forge. There was an extra scorch mark on the roof due to Spitfire getting ticked off after Gobber accidentally stepped on his tail, but it wasn't noticeable to anybody who didn't spend as much time in the forge as Gobber and Hiccup did.

Sighing to himself, Gobber hobbled outside and stopped to look back at the forge as a whole. A wry grin came across his face before he turned and began the trek back to his real home.

"Stoick is going to kill me if ever finds out about this . . ."

Foot Notes:
• I haven't done a lot historical research on the Viking era, so forgive me if anything is inaccurate.
• "as if a fireball had gone off over his head" is sorta like a "lightbulb" going off over Sora's head. And since Vikings didn't have lightbulbs way back when, I just went with what with fire instead.