No Turning Back (A HTTYD Fanfiction)

Fourteen

He tried to pull the mug out of Stoick's grasp but refused to let go.

"No, Gobber...I need it..."

Gobber gave his best friend a sympathetic look.

"No, Stoick. This is destroying you," he pulled the mug away and set it on the table.

Stoick did not protest this time. He knew he had developed some kind of drinking problem over the past few weeks.

He was eager to stop such a disgusting habit, but his emotions kept holding him back.

"Honestly, Stoick, you look like a mess," Gobber gestured to the said man's noticeable bags under his eyes.

"The villagers aren't so pleased with me always handling their disputes and whatnot. They want their Chief-that is you, running the village. I can't always stand in for you,"

Stoick didn't pay any attention to the old blacksmith.

Instead, his mind wandered elsewhere, consumed by thoughts about everything that's happened within the last two years.

"It's been two years," Stoick spoke, lowering his eyes sadly, "I can't believe he's...he's gone. He was...he was the only reminder of Val,"

At the thought of his apprentice, Gobber's face suddenly fell solemn.

The old Viking pulled out his helmet, setting it beside him.

He stared into the dancing flames, rubbing his hands together.

Memories of his time spent with the young heir raced through his mind.

Without the young man's help, Gobber had to do everything.

There were days where his days would drag on and on, numbing his with exhaustion. He was almost at the age where he needed to hand over his blacksmith duty to somebody else.

Hiccup was a skilled craftsman with innovative ideas that may change Berk for the better. He would make a great blacksmith as well as a Chief.

"Aye. That boy always had the craziest but more creative ideas," Gobber chuckled to himself, "He may not be Viking material, but he is a bright lad with so much potential,"

Gobber turned to his friend, letting out a breath.

"Did I ever tell you how much he loved you, Stoick? How he tried to do everything to prove his worth to you?"

Stoick frowned, "Maybe. But I had been too focused on the village that I forgot about how important he was to me,"

Gobber shuffled closer to his friend. He gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder.

"All he wanted was to make you proud of him," the old Viking stared into the flames, "He wanted you to accept him for he is. But he felt like you never cared about him. He felt you were always abandoning him while you were out tending the village,"

"A Chief must protect his own," Stoick stated glumly.

The blacksmith shot his friend a deadpanned look.

"Aye, but wouldn't the poor lad be a top priority? I mean, you are his father,"

Stoick grew silent as he stared into the flames, deep in thought.

Shadows danced over his distraught face. He blinked, shedding a small tear as he thought about his dead son.

Thinking back, he realized he hadn't been the best father to him. His priority had been to the village, killing the dragons once and for all to put an end to their three hundred-year-old war.