Growing Pains

Chapter Sixteen: Checkmate

Finn couldn't fully express his relief when the day was chillier than expected. He liked summer well enough and all its benefits, but the inescapable hot days in the forge and raging sunburns that caused more freckles were practically the bane of his existence. He hated the summer heat, especially on work days.

Fall, though. Crisp morning air combined with the sweet smell of dew on the grass every morning; blustery afternoons to quench the heat of the forge; helping his mom bake homemade apple tarts, pumpkin rolls, cider and hot chocolate; the pretty changes in foliage across Berk's rolling hills. These and many more were the reasons Finn loved fall. It was his favorite season, hands down.

But perhaps the most applicable and convenient of his favorite fall fetishes was the fact that the days grew shorter and night came sooner. The last few days, evening had stretched longer due to the season change. This gave Finn a newfound excitement for his next big hit. Their cover of darkness was even greater, opening wide their window of opportunity. Nights would grow chilly, pulling guards indoors before they froze. Surely his father wouldn't make his night watches suffer. He was a softie, after all; he'd never ask too much of his people if he could help it.

Fearless Finn clanged on the sword a few more times before dropping it into a bucket of water. He watched the water churn to a boil as the steam shot up around his arm. Luckily he had gloves on. The first time he'd burned his arm, it hadn't been a pleasant experience.

Gobber whistled across the forge, ambling to and fro as he put tools away. The teenager noticed the skylight waning already and quickened his pace. He wanted to eat a quick dinner and go home as soon as he could. He wanted to give off the impression that he wouldn't be out and about late tonight. His father's curfew aside, he wanted to give off as little suspicion as possible. Tonight was going to be insane, but if they could pull it off?

Finn bit back a smirk. Who knew just how crazy his father would feel if they could get passed him just one more time before calling it quits? Assuming he could, in fact, call it quits. Maybe he'd have the gang take a break and pick things up again in the spring. Oh man, how his father would hate their guts.

"All right laddie," Gobber interrupted his musings. "Pack up and get outta here."

"Okay." Finn tossed his gloves into his tool box and began stashing away various hammers, pliers, and other items. He walked over to the wash basin to clean his hands. Gobber unexpectedly broke the silence.

"So, how're things at home then?"

Finn quirked an eyebrow suspiciously. Gobber knew exactly what his home life was like. He shrugged indifferently as he rinsed the bubbles off his hands. "Blah."

"How's Erick?" Gobber asked, leaning on his hook. "Yeh like having another boy under the same-"

"Nope." Finn interjected, toweling his hand. "It's not permanent."

"Could be, if his mom doesn't get 'er act together."

"It's not permanent." Finn narrowed his eyes at his mentor. "Erick's just... a pansy."

Gobber frowned. "What makes yeh say that?"

"He needs to learn to let go of the past. Nothing you can do about it."

"Are yeh sure you're the one to judge him on that?" Gobber asked carefully.

Finn scowled at the elderly man, then gave him a shrug. "Why are we even talking about this?"

"Because I think it's important." Gobber stated carefully. "Yeh know, you and Erick have a lot in common. If you gave him a chance, I'm sure you'd-"