Peter Mercier and the Hunters of Artemis

Chapter 4

Peter walked forward, knocking on the door. A small rumble inside later, the door slowly opened to reveal Nuffink, Hiccup's son. "Peter?" he exclaimed, his mouth agape in surprise. "It's Peter!"

Peter smiled, bracing as the child lunged forward and hugged his leg. He patted his head, gently prying him off. "Hey buddy," he said, kneeling to meet his face. "Nice to see you too."

Nuffink's light blond, almost white hair partially covered his blue eyes. The long sleeves of an orange sweater too big for him swung as he spun around and shouted. "Dad, look!"

Hiccup was looking, alright. He sat on a small chair next to the fire of the stone furnace, a coal poker in his hand, studying Peter wide-eyed like the boy was painted a shade of purple. "Yes," he said nervously, scratching at a beard that was no longer there. "I see."

Peter mouthed a 'sorry!' to the chief, turning his attention back to Nuffink. "Why don't you give me and your father a moment?" he instructed, keeping a smile. The child promptly ran off, cheering Peter's name.

"So," the boy started awkwardly, standing up. "No more beard?"

Hiccup nodded. "Got too much to handle," he shrugged, still looking at Peter as if he was out of place. "Got into my soup."

The boy stepped up cautiously, watching as the chief stuck the poker's white-hot tip into the coals. A few gears and tools lay on a workbench behind him, a short sword with a wooden grip on the floor as well. "Is that what's over there?" Peter asked. "Could smell it from the docks."

"I really wish you sent a letter before coming, Peter," Hiccup interrupted, standing up. "We would've been able to give you a decent welcome."

"I'm sorry," Peter sighed, rubbing his eyes. He leaned up against the warm wall adorned with chests on shelves. Resting his head on the stone next to the workbench and looking up at the ceiling, his eyelids tempted closing. "It's been a long few days. I didn't have time."

"Everything alright?" the chief asked. He wore a coal-stained apron with a puffy, dark green sweater underneath, similar to Nuffink's but with a few streaks of white at the bottom as if the maker ran out of thread halfway through. A steak of black dust was across his right cheek, shaking down to his lips. "Toothless didn't bring you here again, did he?"

Peter shook his head, his hat crinkling as he did. "We were attacked by bounty hunters. My landlord lent us his ship."

His expression darkened. "When was this?"

"Yesterday," the boy responded. "Two hunters. They took their own lives after we confronted them, but we decided it wasn't safe in the Northern Market."

"Were you followed?" Hiccup demanded, stepping forwards. Peter shook his head, meeting his eyes. "We left as soon as we could. No ships followed us here, as far as I know."

"Oh, thank the Gods," the chief breathed out. "I'm glad you're here, son. I just wish we had something prepared."

"Wait," he cocked his head sideways. "Us?"

"I had to take her, she's important," the boy gulped. "She's with Astrid and Goethe. She got sunburnt on the way here."

"Two people? Really?" the chief chided. "Come on Peter, you know we're cramped here as it is."

"She's Henrique's daughter," Peter reasoned. "If I left her at the market it would've been irrelevant to have been there in the first place."

"Is that why they're after her?" he asked.

"I don't know," Peter said, raising his tone. He'd rather be in bed at this hour than defend his actions. "They might be after both of us. I'm as new to this as you are, and Amber doesn't know much in the first place. Only that they know what they're doing, and in five years she couldn't shake them."