SUMMARY: Gobber gives Tuffnut meaningful advice.
CHAPTER 13
For weeks afterward, Tuffnut and Astrid took turns waiting for each other to finish their final dayshifts at their apprenticeships so they could walk home together. Everyday at their jobs, there was a story for them to tell each other and laugh or listen along, with Astrid doing most of the laughing.
They made a habit of visiting Fishlegs at his afternoon lessons to the village children at Berk's School of Dragons, which taught everything there was to know about dragons, their lore, and their biology. When they both got bored of hearing Fishlegs rave about dragon science, they frequented the scrollmaster of the village to chat with Snotlout, who always had somewhat-interesting gossip to share from letters he wasn't supposed to read.
Once, Snotlout handed Tuffnut a letter, signed by Gruffnut. Astrid had quietly asked about it later when they were far from the scrollmaster's den, but Tuffnut had acted nonchalant about the rolled parchment and stuffed it in his vest, only to be read when he felt like it.
Before it was too late, Astrid and Tuffnut would always arrive in their neighborhood at the end of their walk from their apprenticeships, when the clouds had rejoined and cooled grey for the summer afternoon. They would then part with a soft duet of goodbyes that felt too simple for the warm companionship they had both enjoyed for the entire walk.
Tuffnut had began to notice that he cared more often to turn over his shoulder and watch Astrid leave. Astrid sometimes walked with Tuffnut to his own home, which was a mile further than hers, so their conversation wouldn't end too early at her cottage's gate. She couldn't get too close to the Thorston's front door, though, since Tuffnut never failed to stop her a few yards away with a quick farewell.
Tuffnut's days at the smithy were getting shorter the more that he grew accustomed to his job's duties. He was using a wooden-handled brush tipped with mule hair to paint a skinned yak's hide with brains. With slow heat and a long wait, the hide would then be ready to shape and stretch into a belt-strap for a customer's saddle.
Tuffnut moved his brush slowly across the hide, his hands a bit jerky from impatience at how thin the brains spread and how many times he had to rewet his brush-hairs in the matter. Painting stinky animal skin with even smellier brains wasn't glamorous, but it mimicked what Tuffnut liked to do when he had his own time to spare, painting sea monsters on parchments. The motions became therapeutic as time passed, and Tuffnut's face fell into a look of gentle concentration.
Astrid's expertise with potting flower seeds, watering plants, harvesting flower offshoots, and sweeping her workplace of compost in the village flower shop made it easy for Phlegma to add on to Astrid's workload. Yet, the daily tasks Astrid had to do became a mindless routine, and Astrid was quickly getting bored. Phlegma curtly yet amicably refused when Astrid asked multiple times in the week to move up in the ranks.
Phlegma appreciated Astrid as a worker, Astrid was told, but Phlegma confessed that Astrid had not worked nearly long enough to be a leader of her other apprentices. Demotivated, Astrid's self-fulfilling pace slowed to a crawl, and instead of meeting strict personal goals for her shifts, Astrid let the days at the flower shop blur together.
Out of the window of the flower shop that showed the view of the smithy across the street, Astrid would sometimes spot Tuffnut, and she would wave to him when she was sure he could see her. He would wave back, only rarely too busy to give her more than a glance. At either gesture, Astrid would be encouraged by a gratifying feeling in her spirit that would give her a small boost to finish her tasks with a little more enthusiasm.
On a regular day as Tuffnut was finishing a wet coat of brains over the same yak's hide as the day before, he happened to glance towards the smithy's opening and saw Astrid standing at the smithy's windowsill, smiling patiently with closed lips and holding a hopeful look in her blinking, blue eyes.
Tuffnut's heart twinged with happiness at a the chance to speak to her, and his lip curled back at her direction.
Gobber was right in the middle of balancing an white-hot shape of iron from the furnace to a table to hammer it into whatever shape was on his mind. "Can ye get that, lad? One slip with this and I'll lose me other hand."
"Just a second," Tuffnut said, placing aside his brush and jogging to the window. "How can I help you?" Tuffnut smiled.
"Tuff, it's me." Astrid said. Though, she was happy he had taken her advice about service-with-a-smile.
"I know. I just say that now whether I wanna or not. It's like this weird tic. It'll go away, right?"
Astrid hummed unsurely and shrugged. "It hasn't for me yet."
Tuffnut nodded, and then folded his elbows on the window. "So?" He smirked, lidding his eyes from his own fatigue but also from being lax whenever Astrid was in his presence.
Astrid saw Tuffnut's sleepy look of indifference and stated her case to why she had slipped to his side of the street under Phlegma's nose. "Oh my gods, I can't stand it in there anymore! If I have to see one more flower today I think I'm going to puke."
"I never thought that sentence would ever come outta your mouth."
Astrid chuckled, not understanding why the gleam in Tuffnut's eyes made her stomach fill with tickles. Astrid halted from talking more, saving her many thoughts for their lunchtime. "Can we break a bit early?"
Tuffnut made a face that surprised her, one of reluctance. "Dunno. I might skip lunch and work overtime today; I'm saving up for somethin', actually."
"For what?"
"You'll see. Don'tcha have anyone else to eat lunch with?"
Astrid's eyes hardened slightly as her lips fumbled for an answer. Finally, she blurted, "what's that's supposed to mean?"
Tuffnut saw how careless his reply was, and said honestly with a quick shake of his head, "nothing."
Astrid saw her pathetic social life was showing more than she wanted them to. There was truly no one else, at least not that she knew of, since she didn't know what time that either of the Dragon Riders were available- -certainly not Hiccup- -and none of them spoke with her as much as Tuffnut recently had. She had lost a connection to the rest of the Riders, somehow, and Tuffnut was the only friend she could cling on to for a sense of understanding about her purpose after Dragon's Edge. Tuffnut, from the look of things, could see right through her.
"Astrid? Hey-!" Tuffnut called when he saw Astrid depart from him. He watched her dress swish solemnly into the flower shop ahead of him.
Iron sizzled in water behind Tuffnut's ears, and then Gobber's nasally accent followed. "That hide isn't going to paint itself," Gobber reminded him as he checked the final shape of his iron piece. "Get to it."
"Hey, Gobber," Tuffnut said lowly with his eyes still trained in Astrid's direction. "What d'you think it means when a girl walks away from you looking kinda sad without really saying anything?"
"It means ye said something less than smart. That can't be hard for you."
Tuffnut sighed through his nose.
"Does someone need to point it out fer you, lad?" Gobber said loudly while shaping his iron formation on a noisy whetting wheel. "It's not very hard'ta miss, the way she smiles at y'sideways an' all. I wasn't born yesterday, that I'll swear ye."
"Whaddya mean?"
Gobber worked on steadily and chuckled. "Yer gonna like a seat to hear this one."
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