I'm dedicating this chapter to the user notApples, who started writing one of the best crossovers I've ever read, entitled The Blacksmith's Apprentice, before it got deleted.

In his story, another HTTYD/Frozen crossover, Hiccup and Toothless flee Berk before Hiccup can fight the Monstrous Nightmare. Boy and Dragon find themselves in Arendelle after a five-day flight, and Hiccup finds a job as the apprentice of the kingdom's resident blacksmith while keeping both Toothless and his own Viking heritage under wraps as much as he can. He meets Elsa and discovers her secret ice powers by accident, and the two discover that they have more in common than they initially realized.

If you're reading this, notApples, I hope you bring back your story. If it was something I or anyone else said in the reviews that prompted you to delete it, I sincerely apologize on their/my own behalf. I know for a fact that I didn't mean anything by it.

Chapter 7: The Royal Blacksmith

The morning after the festival, the others grew slightly concerned when Nuffink never came to the dining room for breakfast. Rather than send one of the servants to fetch him, Elsa opted to investigate herself. She found Nuffink fully dressed in his temporary bedroom, gathering his belongings into a bundle. He'd made the bed and removed practically every trace that he'd ever been there.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked, startling him. Once he realized it was her, though, he quickly regained his composure and returned to his task.

"I apologize, Your Majesty, but I can't impose any longer," he replied as he secured the bundle with twine. "Now that I'm fully healed, I need to get my cottage rebuilt before winter. It will take even longer than the first time, because now I have to start from scratch. You, Kristoff, and the princess have all been wonderful hosts, but I really must be going."

The news of his upcoming departure shouldn't have been surprising; however, Elsa was shocked to feel a sudden pang of longing bloom in her chest, like she didn't want him to leave yet. She could've just pulled rank on him and forced him to stay; however, that would only hurt him, and she wasn't that kind of queen. The choice had to be his and his alone.

"Very well. But before you leave, I have a gift for you," she said and produced a rolled-up parchment from within the sleeve of her dressing-gown. With a raised eyebrow, Nuffink took the parchment from her and untied the crimson ribbon holding it closed. It was a document of some sort, signed by Elsa and stamped with her royal seal; however, it was written in English, which Nuffink couldn't read.

"What is this? I can't read what it says," he asked.

She smiled and replied, "This is a deed: an official royal document granting you proper ownership of the land your cottage was built on. It's the only way I could think to make up for the ordeals Bjornson put you through." Nuffink started to nod in understanding, then furrowed his brow.

"Why are you still trying to earn my forgiveness? You've already done more than enough by giving me a place to stay."

"That's my sister for you," Anna replied from the doorway. "Ever since we reunited after the secret of her powers forced us apart, she's been going above and beyond for me and the rest of her citizens. And that includes you." She then gave him a pout. "Now, can you please come join us for breakfast? It's rude to leave without saying goodbye, you know!"

...

After breakfast, Kristoff and Anna insisted on accompanying Nuffink back to the clearing he'd called home, claiming that they had a surprise for him. Elsa would've gone with them, but she had mor important things to get done. Once at the clearing, Nuffink realized what the surprise was:

The charred ruins of his cottage were gone.

In their place, a log cabin stood proudly in the middle of the clearing, which was now quite a bit wider without the trees that had been cut down to build the cabin. The cabin itself had three rooms, a proper stone chimney, and a sod roof covered in grass and clovers. Oddly, the rest of the clearing was dotted with small, mossy boulders.

"Do you like it? I had my family come help me build it for you," Kristoff asked.

Nuffink was about to reply when he detected movement in his peripheral vision. He scowled and drew his sword, gazing around with his one good eye.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" he challenged. To his surprise, the boulders around the clearing started rolling toward him of their own accord. They all stopped when they were collectively gathered in front of Nuffink and uncurled one by one, revealing themselves to be squat, gray-skinned creatures with pointed ears. The Viking frantically scanned over them with wide eyes; there were far too many for his liking, and they would be difficult to fight if they were truly made of stone. "AWAY WITH YOU! Begone, foul creatures of Jötunnheim!" he yelled, holding his sword with both hands.

Rather than act frightened, though, the creatures began to whisper among themselves.

"A Viking! A real Viking!" one of them said in amazement.

"I thought they were gone for good!" another one responded. Nuffink became confused, gradually lowering his sword. Soon, the group of creatures parted in the middle to make way for a slightly larger boulder to roll through. The boulder uncurled into a slightly larger, more grizzled creature with shaggy hair, a green cape that trailed behind him, and several glowing crystals hanging from his neck.

"Be at ease, young Viking. We mean you no harm," he spoke in a soothingly deep voice. "I'm sure you have questions, and we may or may not have the answers. I am Skraag, Grand Pabbie of the Trolls. The young man standing behind you is my adopted grandson." Nuffink stared for a moment before sheathing his sword.

"Well, looks like old Gobber was right; Trolls do exist!" he said before turning to Kristoff. "Is this why you never mentioned you had any family?" Kristoff scratched the back of his neck.

"Kinda. My birth parents died when I was a kid, and it was just me and Sven until the Trolls took us in."

"Regardless of that fact, I have a question for you," the Grand Pabbie announced. "If you truly are a Viking as you claim, where do you hail from, and how did you arrive on our shores?"

"I am from the Barbaric Archipelago. I boarded a ship and let it drift until I reached an uncharted land. Why?" Upon hearing Nuffink's reply, the other Trolls began murmuring amongst themselves once again, and the Grand Pabbie sighed deeply.

"I was afraid of that. You may as well come inside and sit down; you're in for a bit of a nasty shock," he said, motioning for the three humans to follow as he waddled toward the cabin on his short legs.

...

Once inside, Nuffink, Kristoff, and Anna made themselves comfortable on Nuffink's new furniture while the Grand Pabbie started a fire in the fireplace using his Trollish magic.

"What's wrong, Grand Pabbie? Whatever you have to tell us can't be that bad, can it?" Kristoff asked.

"Nonsense, my dear boy," the Grand Pabbie assured him. "At least, not for you and Anna. I'm afraid a rather troubling yet curious detail regarding your new friend has come to light." He pulled up a stool and sat in front of the fire, facing the three humans with a grim expression. "You see, there was once a large chain of islands far to the north of Arendelle. That island chain was the Barbaric Archipelago, the primary home of the Vikings, among other creatures. However, a series of cataclysmic tremors caused the entire Archipelago to be swallowed by the seas." The Grand Pabbie looked directly at Nuffink. "It is curious that you are with us here and now, friend Nuffink. For the tremors I speak of occurred nearly three hundred years ago."

Anna gasped and covered her mouth, and she and Kristoff both looked at their friend in concern. Nuffink stared at his feet for several moments, a haunted look adorning his face.

"Then it's true. I really am the last Viking," he finally said. Before either Kristoff or Anna could say anything, the Grand Pabbie beat them to it, laying a stubby four-fingered hand on top of Nuffink's.

"Do not despair so quickly, my friend," he said with a warm smile. "The Norns have certainly surprised us before; they may yet do so again." Nuffink sat up straight and wiped a tear from his eye with a small smile of his own.

"You're right. Surely this must be a blessing from the gods, though what they need of me is not yet certain. I originally came here with plans for a fresh start, away from my homeland and the ghosts of my past. I just need to follow through with those plans."

With assurances that he would be alright, Anna, Kristoff, and the Trolls left Nuffink to get settled in his new abode.

...

The next day, Nuffink held an audience with Queen Elsa to discuss his career options.

Rather than work for the Royal Armory directly, it was decided that he would open his own private smithy to make his services more widely available. Nuffink's thinking was that he would attract more business if he sold a wider variety of wares than just armor and weapons. Elsa agreed that his logic made sense, and a business license was written for Nuffink on the spot.

With a loan from the Queen that he agreed to pay back in the future, Nuffink bought an abandoned building near the town square that had once been a bakery. He also purchased an anvil, a grindstone, and the materials necessary to connect a set of bellows to the old brick oven, as well as a supply of coal and metal ingots. He still possessed the tools he'd brought from the Archipelago, and after two weeks of setting everything up, Nuffink opened his new shop.

It was a while before he got his first customer: the kind baker who'd generously given him a loaf of bread for free when he'd first arrived in Arendelle came to him with a request for a new set of kitchen knives. He'd had several knives already made while waiting for customers to arrive, so he sold them to her on the spot. Then the baker patted herself down and realized she didn't have any money with her.

"That's alright; I'd actually prefer my customers to barter rather than pay with money," Nuffink assured her. "I'll gladly accept the goods and services of others in exchange for my own." With that in mind, Nuffink was given a promissory note for a fresh batch of muffins to be delivered first thing in the morning.

The baker must've spread the word, because the next day a butcher came and took as many knives as he could carry. In exchange, Nuffink received a barrel of salted pork. Later, Kristoff and one of his ice-harvesting friends came to get their ice axes repaired, paying with cash only because they had nothing else to offer.

Day after day, Nuffink toiled away in his forge, steadily cranking out more and more products. Knives, swords, hatchets, cooking utensils...the list went on. The ringing of his anvil could be heard across the whole square for hours on end, beginning at dawn and ending at dusk. At one point, the Abbot came for an unexpected visit and admonished the Viking for working on a Sunday, which Nuffink pointedly ignored.

Food wasn't the only thing he was paid with, either. A few weeks after he opened his shop, Nuffink supervised as the woodsman who'd just bought three hatchets built a coop for the Viking's newly acquired chickens. Not a very big flock, but enough to supply him with eggs and, if necessary, meat through the winter. The day after that, he repaired the cracked brewing kettles of a bartender and was paid with one keg each of mead and ale.

This continued until he received an unexpected visit from the Queen...

In some of the stories I've read, "Grand Pabbie" seems more like a title than an actual name. That's why I had the elder Troll introduce himself as "Skraag."