The fire pit in the Great Hall was home to flames which flickered and danced to the bays of the wind which crept in from the crack between the two enormous doors. Flakes of ember spiralled up from dying charcoal, each glowing piece desperate to survive but always blown far far away into the unknown. Large looming shadows followed their smaller counterparts, which were usually the ordinary viking of dragon popping in for a late lunch with their friends. But that day, no one dared to approach the sole man sitting near the back in the shadows. There was something off and sinister about him that day.
Among the deserted glooms, was the village's blacksmith. He was sat on a lone table, drinking from a canister until its contents dribbled down his chin to his front to match the splotches of salty water marking his back and trousers.
When Gobber drank, it was usually followed by jolly whoops and music and partying but this time, it ended in a silence as he drank to forget what happened so long ago.
He was just starting to get tipsy when the doors opened noisily.
A large group of dragons and vikings walked in.
Hiccup was among one of these vikings who strode in, head craned to catch a glimpse of something. His face lit up briefly when he spotted the man sitting alone, but quickly frowned, seeing the container on the table that was surrounded by a puddle of foul-smelling alcohol.
The group shot each other wary glances before slowly approaching the tired man.
Hiccup reached out a hand, about to say something when Gobber cut him off.
"What're you doing here, Hiccup," he asked rhetorically.
"Um, G-Gobber?"
When Hiccup did not continue, he took another swig of whatever alcohol he was drinking, back still facing everyone.
"Gobber!" the young chieftain said firmly and tugged on his hefty shoulder, forcing him to look at them.
Toothless saw that the older man's face was dusted with a fine layer of soot he usually never bother wiping off. However this time, tracks of tears slid from his eyes down his cheeks, creating a channel on his face that took down whatever soot was in its way. They could clearly see how much he'd been crying.
He looked helpless, and beneath the tough attitude he usually put on, they saw a vulnerable side of him.
"Oh, Gobber," Valka said and sat beside him, an arm around his shoulder.
"Just like old times, eh, Val?" he joked grimly.
None of the young adults knew what they were talking about and assumed something like this had happened in the past.
"What happened, old friend?" she began lightly.
He took another swig, getting the burning liquid in his long greying moustache.
"Aye, it's nothing..."
"Gobber, tell us what happened," Hiccup ordered.
Another swig.
Hiccup snatched it away in frustration. He didn't like seeing him like this. It felt like a punch in the face to him.
He glared at Hiccup.
Gobber stood up and began to walk away.
"GOBBER!" he heard the painfully familiar tone reprimand him.
He stopped dead in his tracks and for a moment he closed his eyes and imagined that it was Stoick, alive and well, and absolutely ready to kick his butt for being the irresponsible viking he was when it came to his drinking ways.
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How To Train Your Dragon 3 - A Tale of Two Tails -
Fanfiction"As Hiccup fulfills his dream of creating a peaceful dragon utopia, Toothless' discovery of an untamed elusive mate draws the Night Fury away. when danger mounts at home and Hiccup's reign as village chief is tested, both dragon and rider must make...
