The Imposter

Chapter 3

Gobber had been typically unsympathetic to Hiccup as the young man had slunk into the back of the forge, cuffing him around the head for being stupid enough to be at risk of his life.

"Mutton head!" he snapped, watching the boy duck and flinch. "Yer father would be furious that yer almost lost yer head!" Defiantly, Hiccup's head snapped up and his emerald eyes flashed at the implication.

"A knight protects the weak and helpless!" he quoted shortly. "I had to rescue him!" Gobber's thick blonde unibrow dipped over his nose and he shook his head.

"Yeah-and yer father would have done the same," he admitted-before his voice dropped to a growl. "BUT he wouldnae have cheeked the King. Yer father-Odin welcome his soul in Valhalla-had some sense! He would have apologised for the boy, quoted the codes and BOWED HIS HEAD!" Hiccup scowled back.

"I did bow my head," he protested.

"Because it's harder to decapitate someone like that," Gobber muttered. He gestured with his hook and achingly, the boy sat on the rackety stool, peeled his tunic off, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, waiting. For a moment, Gobber paused, staring at the fresh wounds and feeling guilt that he couldn't protect his friend's son, couldn't spare him one second of the pain he was feeling-or would feel, over and over. Gobber had his niche, his forge, his job...but for Hiccup, there was only hard toil and harder words and knocks. The boy had a stubborn core that drove him on, despite the unfairness of everything, because his father would expect him to. He was sassy and sarcastic and determined and very smart and brave but one day, that wouldn't be enough and the cruelty of his life, the savageness of his masters and the despair of his future would finally break him. And Gobber very honestly wanted to be dead with Stoick before his son's will shattered and the boy crumbled.

Taking a very deep sigh, he pulled out the little jar of salve and peered within: he was running short but the boy needed it because the wounds were deep and far too many. His gaze trailed over the older scars marring the smooth skin, silent testimony to the brutality he had endured without reason and he curled in shame. None of this was Hiccup's doing and he was far better than this. Shaking his head, he soothed the buttery cream over the fresh cuts and he saw the young man flinch, heard his hiss and felt another curl of shame.

"I may have been sarcastic," Hiccup admitted quietly.

Gobber gave a low chuckle, his hand especially gentle over the last few marks.

"That's Stoick's son!" he laughed and Hiccup gave a sigh.

"And reckless," he added. Gobber patted his shoulder gently.

"As long as yer aren't stupid, lad," he warned, clicking the top back on the jar and stowing it safely. "Think before yer speak!" Nodding, Hiccup eased the stained tunic back over his scored shoulders and stared at the floor for a long moment.

"Do you think I would be allowed to take the Tests?" he asked quietly. Gobber spun round and stared at the young man, still grimacing as he pulled the tunic down and lifted his head.

"Yer kidding?" he gasped and Hiccup gave a lopsided smile.

"Thuggory reminded me that anyone can take the tests-if he has a sponsor..." he murmured and Gobber sighed, leaning against the counter of the forge.

"And there's yer problem, lad," he reminded the young man. "I canna see any one of those self-interested swine allowing ye tae take the tests and threaten their own sons." Emerald eyes widened in hurt but the stubborn expression was still there.

"Thuggory has sworn that he will sponsor me to take the tests," he said firmly. "He was my friend from when we were pages. He has the right as Heir to the Meathead honour to sponsor me!" Gobber bit back the answer he wanted to say.