You'll Be the Death of Me (Snotlout x Reader)

Chapter 1

  I enter Gobber's shop, giving the weapons and fire pit a wide berth. I'd come looking for Gobber to pick up my new weapon, being a Berkian, this was of utmost importance. I'd seen what could happen to a village undefended, and didn't want to be caught unawares. I find the man of the hour in the back by his hook rack, the pulley system holding various options for his severed left hand. He was talking to someone, showing him the reigns of the place. The boy, I notice, is pretty muscular, only a tad taller than me, which was pretty short for many of the boys in Berk, with black hair flaring out of the sides of his helmet, and a dark vest and shirt. I cough quietly, alerting them of my arrival. Gobber turns around immediately, leaving the boy to finish whatever they were working on. The boy turns around as well, and we lock eyes for a moment. I immediately notice how deep blue his eyes are and for a second I'm captivated, ensnared in this apprentice's gaze.

"___! A pleasure to have ye back here!" Gobber exclaims, throwing his arm over my shoulder, snapping me from my trance,

"Yeah, haha, sorry to bother you, but I'm here for an axe." I explain. He nods, going into detail about the axe he made for me and how it was perfectly weighted. I feel bad when I zone out, but making weapons wasn't my forte. We head over to the sharpening station, where he picks up an axe. It's beautiful, and I see why he went into so much detail about making it. He hands it to me, the oaken handle carved beautifully, and the steel shining in the early afternoon sunlight as if it had just been sharpened and polished.

"Wow, Gobber this is amazing! How much do I owe you?" I ask, looking at him in awe, before he waves his hook to shut me up.

"Nothing! It's on me, family friends discount." He laughs heartily, taking the axe away briefly to wrap it in a deep blue cloth before handing it back to me. Gobber was my mother's friend since they were young, he was practically my second father! I remembered seeing him at almost every family gathering, ceremony, and holiday, always having called him "Uncle" when I was young. I smile at him, holding the piece of art in my hands as I fish out a few gold coins,

"Well consider this a tip, Uncle." I say, dropping the coins in his hand and closing it around them. He shakes his head and smiles, "You're too kind, ___, it'll be the death of ye!" he says, walking back over to the apprentice, who, when I turn around I notice still has those beautiful eyes on me. I smile softly, trying to not make it awkward, but he flashes me a smile and winks, before turning back to his work as Gobber closes in. I can't help but smile to myself, that smile he gave me contagious. I start to remember seeing him before, often at dragon races and with the chief's son, Hiccup. I wave to Gobber as I leave into the sun, unwrapping a bit of the axe in excitement.

As I walk back to my house, my mind wanders to the apprentice with Gobber. I remember the feeling of looking into his eyes and a part of me was wishing I was back there in that moment. I shake my head and push my front door open, yelling that I'd come home. My father is at the table, finishing a leg of mutton. Looking up, he smiles, wiping his beard,

"You finally got that axe didn't you?" he asks, gesturing for me to give it to him. I shake my head, smiling giddily,

"Wash your hands first, Gobber really outdid himself." I gush, holding it close.

My father rolls his eyes, chuckling and getting up. He's a simple man, but a sucker for a well-made weapon. When he comes back, he unwraps the cloth and gasps, running his hand over the handle and complimenting Gobber's workmanship, mostly to himself. He and Gobber had both suggested I go into a first apprenticeship with the blacksmith, to use my hands, as agile as they were with knives while doing the dishes, and the decorative spears and swords we had hanging on the wall. I never took it up, much rather busying myself with dragon studies. I thought they were all so different, and enchanting in their own ways, each with it's own ability and identity. So, I took up compiling any and all information I knew or discovered about dragons, keeping them in a notebook. My father never pressed me to dwell into weapons, but did want me to get a dragon after seeing how much I liked studying them. I've always wanted one, but kept putting it off after continuing my studies, various partners, and the rest of life taking away my attention. But today I was finally putting all that aside and getting myself a weapon and a dragon.

In all my studies of dragons, I learned that the best relationships between dragon and human happened by taming the dragon. My father knew this as he took me down to the Dragon Academy. We go inside the main arena area to meet Gobber, who doubled as the instructor there. He shows me a range of dragons, some larger and some smaller. My eyes fall on a Grim Gnasher and I take a step closer to it, my father and Gobber watching me and letting me familiarize myself with him. I'd seen the Chief's son do this... thing with his hand where he puts his trust in the dragon, that it won't rip his hand off and touches it's snout. I however, don't trust this plan, not yet at least. I stick my hand out to it slowly, drawing closer as I look up at it, watching it's every movement. My hand is soon inches away from it's snout and it's finally the moment of truth. I sigh softly when the Gnasher presses it's snout into my hand and my Father cheers. Little did I know, that this was the start to a whole new chapter of my life.