Hiccup & Toothless' Fate

Chapter 17 - A Chat in the Forge

(Astrid)

Walking around the village, it continued to get increasingly obvious how much happier people looked. An old saying was that the way to a Viking's heart was through their stomach, and it showed. People were smiling more, laughing more. From the noise around the corner and the smoke in the air, it seemed that even the Forge had started back up, Gobber swinging his hammers once more. The clash of metal near the weapon storehouse also spoke of people continuing to train now that they had the strength to swing axes, shields, and swords once again. It might have just been my opinion, but even the sun seemed brighter and warm enough to melt some of the snow on the ground. We'd done it. Berk was starving no more.

I sidestepped Fishlegs near our small marketplace, his head too deep in the Book of Dragons to notice my presence until we were nose-to-nose.

"Oops, sorry-" He looked up at me and froze.

I brushed off his apology. "You okay? I haven't seen you much lately," I asked. It was true. Between duties and errands Stoick kept me on all week and Fishlegs off somewhere, we hadn't had time to hang out in a while. I'd actually found myself missing my friend.

"Yeah!" he blurted, instantly wincing at how loud it was. "I've been fine, fine – yep. That's me. Fully healthy and happy and –" He bumped into a basket of grain and cringed as it swayed, threatening to dump its load onto the ground. "-busy. Really, uh, busy. So I'm just going to... go. Yep. Bye!" He scampered off, throwing one last furtive look over his shoulder.

"What's up with him?" I said aloud.

"A girlfriend?" Gobber wondered from where he'd been eavesdropping. He threw an apple up and down, piercing it with his hook once he got bored from playing with it.

"No, I don't think so. This village isn't as big as to keep a secret like that for more than a couple of days."

Gobber shrugged noncommittedly, bit his apple, and left. His words made me wonder, though. Fishlegs was definitely hiding something, and I decided that I was going to find out. Something made me pause though, and I looked after Gobber's lumbering shape, wondering what it was. The noise from the Forge increased slightly, brought in on the breeze, and I realised.

"Gobber!" I called after him. "How- what- who on Midgard is in the Forge?"

He grinned. "That'd be Ormr, lass! He's mighty handy with the hammer. Finished a few projects already in only a couple of days. Don't ask me what they are though, I couldn't make head nor tails of it! Impressive leatherwork skills too. Might ask him to show me a few things myself."

"Ormr?" I looked in the Forge's direction. I hadn't seen Ormr for a few days, which was kind of similar to Fishlegs. Maybe it was time to check in and see how he was going.

Distractedly I waved goodbye to Gobber and made my way over to one of the biggest buildings on the island. Sure enough, through the window, was Ormr. He raised his hammer again and again, bringing it down on the cooling metal to create the shape he wanted. Then, bringing it over to another piece, he beckoned to the ever-present shadow of his Night Fury. The dragon padded over, blue-purple flame readying in his maw. Ormr placed some sort of goggles over his helmet's eyeholes and I sharply turned my own head away as Toothless welded the two pieces together. Ormr dipped the project into the oil bucket once he was done, steam thrown into the air, and proudly held the piece up.

"Nice job, bud!" he cried, voice muffled.

"Not bad," I said, startling the two figures. "I could never get my welds quite right. I guess it must be easier with a dragon doing it for you, though how you trained him to do that I have no idea."