The Other-worldly Protector

43. Prince Petals

Kiara stared at the double amputee. Something similar to déja vu rippled through her. She felt that she could tell exactly who he was, from his peculiar habits to his courageous quirky fun attitude, but she was confused as none of it matched the snarl he held on his face. A question slipped out of her mouth before she could help it. "Have we met?" she squeaked.

"Answer my question," the man demanded, his hook still pointed at her. "Who are you?"

"I— uh, Kiara."

He lowered his hook and his eyes remained narrow for a moment, then a friendly grin lit up his face, his entire demeanour changing in an instant. "Ah. You came with Hiccup," he said.

"Yes! Yes, sir." Kiara nodded vigorously.

The man stared at her, looking gobsmacked, then burst into a fit of laughter, bent over and slapping his knee repeatedly. "AHAHAH! You called me... HAHA, sir!"

Kiara chuckled awkwardly, pulling at her collar. "Yeah..."

"HAH, please," he made a motion like wiping a tear from his eye as his laughter died down, "call me Gobber." He extended his hook in a friendly handshake manner. "Nice to meet ya."

Kiara hesitated.

"Oh, I'm just kidding— yer don't have to shake my hook. Wouldn't want ya to be bleedin' on your first day on Berk, now would we?"

"I suppose not." Kiara smiled, somewhat relieved.

"What were you doin' all alone anyway?"

"Aah," Kiara sighed. "Long story short: Hiccup told Ruff, Tuff and Snotlout to give me a tour of this place."

"Oh, no wonder..." Gobber grumbled something about the three's incompetence. "Never mind them, lass." He jabbed a thumb firmly at his chest. "I'll give you your tour."

Kiara's eyes brightened. "Really? Thank you!"

"Sure. Well, a mini one," he said as they began walking together. "You see, I was on my way to the forge."

"Are you a blacksmith?"

"Berk's only," he said proudly, "since Hiccup left anyway."

Kiara raised her eyebrows in interest. "Hiccup was a blacksmith?"

"Ya-harr! He was my right-hand boy, from back when we were at war with dragons. I knew him since he was a wee fishbone."

She snickered despite herself. "Fishbone? I'd like to hear these stories."

-

Jogging up to his house, Hiccup paused on the front step to briefly catch his breath. The door was ajar, probably to waft fresh air into the house, after it being locked up for warmth in the harsh winter. It wasn't unusual to leave doors open here: Berk was a secure place, it was base.

Hiccup slipped through the open door and took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the shade, as the familiar scent of wood surrounded him. He was about to call out for his father but stopped himself when he became aware of a deep humming, accompanied by a scrape of metal every few seconds. Though Hiccup couldn't remember when he had last heard his father sing, this tune was oddly familiar. It was lulling and weighed with emotion.

Stoick sat in his chair, facing away and sharpening his sword with a scraping stone. Hiccup slowly approached and felt even more confused as the hum turned into faint words.

"...with never a fear of drowning, and gladly ride the waves of life, if you would.."

—Creek. A floorboard yelled at the weight of his metal leg.