Tempered Flames: Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Hiccup felt a fresh intimidation as they mounted the steps to the Great Hall.

It was easy to forget how strong the Vikings of Berk were. One hundred and twenty-five steps hewn straight from the rock lead to a wooden door that was over fifty feet high. Twin statues flanked the entryway, and Hiccup remembered his father proudly proclaiming each was exactly sixty-eight feet tall and had been carved exactly where they stood now.

Too often, Hiccup viewed the Vikings as headstrong and more than a bit stupid. But when he approached that place, he was reminded that his father and his father’s fathers had a more extensive repertoire than he’d ever possess. 

The genteel look of the statues bore down on him, making him feel even smaller as he passed into their shadow, through the unlatched door, and into the mountain.

The dirt floor and stone walls might have been typical of any cave, but the carvings that had been set into them, with decorative bands of metal that gleamed in the light of the torches showed there was more. Hiccup swallowed, knowing his tiredness was making him pensive.

A day ago he’d nearly run away from this place.

He wondered if his ancestry was as ready for war as his generation was. All anyone ever seemed to talk about was fighting. Training to fight, defeat, and then kill dragons. It made his stomach turn.

“Mhmmm,” Astrid hummed from beside him. “That smells delicious.”

Hiccup started. He’d almost forgotten she was there, so caught up in looking upon the majesty of the hall. He hadn’t noticed the smoke in the air, but now that he had, he could smell the scent of sizzling meat drifting out. 

Astrid stepped past him, following the scent. With a final look at the carvings, Hiccup followed.

Gobber was revealed towards the center stage of the hall. He worked with few iron tools, cooking up freshly filleted fish as well as large slabs of meat. He had a black griddle attached to his arm in place of his prosthesis and worked it back and forth over one fire pit. He hummed to himself as he cooked, butchering the tune as well as he must have the meats.

“Ahh, mornin’ you two!” he bade as they approached. He flipped a pan that he held in his good hand over onto a plate, and several eggs flopped out. Then he flipped his prosthesis upward and several cubes of beef glistened wetly before thunking back down. “Ya father sent me on up to prepare a hearty meal for your big day.”

Astrid took a deep breath. Hiccup couldn’t help but watch as her chest swelled with the scent of fresh meats, and the pleasant grin that came over her. “That smells delicious,” she pinned. “Can you make mine rare?”

Gobber winked at her. “I’ve already got it. Nice and bloody, just right.”

Hiccup coughed. “Do you need any help?” he asked.

Gobber mulled for a moment before nodding to the already prepared plates. “Take those o’er to the serving table. The others should be comin’ soon, yes?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup replied. “Dad went to go grab something from your shop.”

Gobber’s eye glinted. “Ahhhh, was wondering if he’d remember or not. Speaking of which.”

He reached into the still frying pan and tossed Hiccup one of the prepared cuts. It was a botched toss, but Hiccup slid sideways and deftly caught it in one hand.

“Aha!” Gobber laughed. “Good reactions, boy! Go on, the birthday lad gets first bite.”

Hiccup squinted at him but obliged. He bit into the cube of beef. It had been heavily salted, but it was pleasantly warm and tasty for his tired appetite.

“Isn’t that still hot?” Astrid asked.

Hiccup looked at her, stopping mid-chew. He looked down at his hands and saw that the meat was still steaming. Flashes of Toothless’ fire came to his mind and he went blank.

“Course it is!” Gobber chuckled. “He’s got the hands of a smith. Fire don’ mean much to men like us, eh?”

Hiccup swallowed. He was having trouble believing he was a man, but Gobber’s kind nod helped put a little iron in his spine. “Ish not bad,” he said to Astrid while taking another bite.

She puckered her lips in thought before going to Gobber’s pan. She looked up to him and he grinned speculatively but nodded at her. She reached in taking a small morsel in her own fingers, immediately dropping it as grease sizzled against her grip. “Gah!” she spat, then sticking her thumb into her mouth and gently sucking it.

Hiccup and Gobber both laughed.

Astrid glared at the pair of them before scooping the same bit up and tossing it in. She made a few chews before her eyes began to water and she forced herself to swallow. She made a noise of discomfort. “Ugggh. I think I’ll wait till it’s roasted,” she said to them before grabbing the finished platter and moving towards the serving wall.

Hiccup watched her go. The blue of her cloth undershirt and leggings hugged the natural curve of her body in a very appealing way, even if the leather skirt with iron studs and the belt of metal skulls took a little away from the tightness of her body. But they were, undeniably, Astrid. As much a part of her as her increasingly long blonde hair.

A cough from the side drew his attention, and he realized Gobber had been watching him, giving a smug and knowing look.

Hiccup rolled his eyes at the older man and grabbed a plate before following Astrid.

The rest of their group soon filed in. Gobber finished cooking up the meats and each served themselves.

A few questions had come his way when they started, but as the group realized that Hiccup didn’t particularly know why they’d all been called, the conversation turned to more mundane things. 

Ruffnut mindlessly chewed over a huge pile of meats and bread, looking as if she would rather still be in bed. Tuffnut, meanwhile, was showing off his hideous axe to Gobber, and when criticized insisted that an even bigger blade might help the issue. 

Fishlegs and Snotlout were going back and forth on whether their dragon training would now be from books, or if they’d do something more practical despite the lack of an arena. Astrid cut in here, saying she hoped it wouldn’t be any more books, and Snotlout’s mood seemed to become smug that Astrid had taken her side.

Nobody else wished Hiccup a happy birthday. He sat near the edge of the table, listening to each conversation while soaking up the greasiest parts of the meat with his vegetables, content with simply existing. His tired mind wandered back to the Skrill when a sharp bang had him nearly fall out of his seat.

Luckily, the others did not seem to notice. Stoick came into the Great Hall looking larger than life with his head held high. He started speaking immediately, strong voice reverberating off the stone walls. “Excellent, you’re all here. Had enough to eat, yet?”

“I could still go for a few more eggs,” Gobber gibed. Stoick gave him a look.

“I could too actually,” Ruffnut huffed. She passed her plate to her brother. “Go get me some.”

“Go get your own.” he shoved the plate back.

“You’re closer.”

“The table’s on your side, fatty!”

Ruffnut raised her plate with the obvious intention to hurl it at her brother, but Hiccup reacted without thinking. He snatched it when she drew back, letting her arm hurl forward though nothing was in it. 

“I’ve got it,” he said simply, getting up from his seat and going to the serving table. While over there, he snagged an extra piece of bread.

Stoick coughed. It took him a moment to find his place. “Alright. As you all know, the arena has been destroyed, and our dragons are presumed lost.”

“What happened anyway?” Snotlout asked.

“Did the dragons set off a cave of natural gas?”

Hiccup paused briefly before he sat back down and passed Ruffnut her plate, setting the bread before him. He hadn’t thought about a gas explosion before. Fishlegs’ question made him wonder.

“All we know,” Stoick went on, “is that our dragons are gone. We’ve not searched through all the remains yet, but we can only guess.”

A hand stretched out, bringing Hiccup from his thoughts. Astrid had her lips puckered as she slowly dragged his bread away, her huge blue eyes looking innocently to the side. Hiccup snorted but let her take it. They made eye contact, and she broke the piece in half, giving it back.

“But, even knowing still leaves us with nothing. Which is why you lot will be taking one of the long boats, and sailing South.”

“What? South??” Snotlout asked, disbelieving. “What’s South?”

“Hnng, not much…” Fishlegs said. “Most of our maps are towards the East, where we thought the nest was.”

Hiccup knew exactly where the nest had been. They had had a lot of time to explore over the last three years, but it had taken a lot of courage for Hiccup to ask Toothless to take him back home. Toothless had flown them back to the island that was a craggily shore surrounding an immense cavern. Toothless had seemed skittish, looking into the vast empty pit. Hiccup remembered tossing a torch and watching as it sailed down, down, down, until it vanished from sight.

He then convinced Toothless to follow it down, and Hiccup was sure they were descending into the pit of the Earth. As they neared the bottom, faint magma pools began to glow through the smog, and revealed the immense skeleton that lay rotting inside. A dragon that was larger than any Hiccup had ever seen, larger than, he thought, any dragon could become. Even the eye sockets were larger than both he and toothless were, its immense bones creating a leviathan sense of primal fear in the pair. From the look of its skull, it had been killed after being cracked inward with unknowable force.

“Aye,” Stoick’s voice brought him back from the memory. “Not much, but there’s enough. South of here is an island with sharp rocks and high cliffs. It reaches up hundreds of feet, and a forest grows on top of the ridges.”

“Kinda like Berk?”

“No,” Stoick denied. 

He moved to the table, withdrawing a bit of parchment and placing it down. Hiccup had never seen this landmass before, nor even this map. The island was ovular, with a second circle inside of the first that went around the entire island. 

“We have our docks and places where ours meets the sea.” Stoick tapped the map, pointing to the brief tiny shore compared to the high upper plateau. “This place is like a stronghold compared to our village and would starve itself out if it wasn’t just one man who lives there.”

“One guy owns a whole island?”

“It sounds pretty lonely.”

Hiccup looked over at Astrid. For the first time he thought he recognized a hint of pity in her voice.

“Adoramus Te.” Stoick told them. “This is the hunter that ended the dragon threat, and this,” he tapped a large box on the map, “is his stronghold.”

Again, Hiccup saw the man in his mind’s eye. Short gray hair, olive white skin. The bronze sword on his hip, and the watchful topaz eyes of his silver wolf pendant. His mind flashed to the caved in skull at the bottom of the pit.

“W-we’re going to be trained by… by him?” Hiccup asked, no longer seeing the map, only seeing the skeleton in the red deathly glow of the magma. There was no way that anybody, not even Stoick, could know what he’d done. How many other dragons lay slain at this man’s feet?

“Yes,” Stoick nodded gravely. “I’ve sent two ravens to carry the message. We haven’t seen dragons in a long time, but they’re still out there. I can feel the tide turning, and you lot must be ready for it. You’re to be trained by the best dragon slayer I’ve ever known. And, hopefully, each of you’ll be able to kill your first dragon by the end.”

The others seemed enraptured by Stoick, but Hiccup felt like he needed to throw up.

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The sickly sensation did not fade as they were marched from the hall down to the docks. Stoick allowed each of the teenagers five minutes to gather their belongings and return to the square, but decided to walk home with Hiccup and destroy the only chance that he felt he had to escape.

“So, are ye excited?” his elder asked.

If I start sprinting now, I could probably make it to the treeline before he noticed. If Toothless is near… Hiccup spotted the hatchet at his father’s waist. If Toothless is near, he’d get an axe to the stomach before we could get off the ground.

“Yeah!” he lied. “It sounds… great! Juuuust great.”

“It does me wonders to hear that,” Stoick clapped his son on the back. “I think this’ll be a good trip for you all. Get out and away from the nest, eh? Spread some wings of your own.”

“Heh y-yeah,” Hiccup imagined a baby dragon tumbling off a stone cliff and smashing into the water below. “Gonna be great.”

“I was hoping I could treat you meself, but with how everything’s been and is showing to be, this looks like the only way to go about it now.” They entered their home, and Stoick guided Hiccup towards the firepit. “Those kids need training, give ‘em something to focus on.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but notice the detail. “‘Those kids?’” he quoted.

“Well, of course. You’re the only one that’s ever even held down a job,” Stoick said proudly, “and everyone else round here’s turning to mush without dragons beating down their doors. Only the ones who’ve truly lost somethin’ seem even to remember that the threat’ll come back.”

Hiccup stirred. “How do you know it will?” he asked.

“Son,” Stoick sighed, putting his hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. “You’ll learn, as a leader, the threats… never stop. If it isn’t dragons, it’s people. There’s countless warlords out there who’d gladly take our island as their own. You remember the stories I told you?”

Hiccup grimaced and began counting on his fingers. “Ragnar the Rock, Griselda the Grievous, Ivar the Witless, Krogan the… err…”

“I don’t think he had a title,” Stoick filled. “But mostly I was talking about Alvin, and the other one. The one who burned down the hall of chieftains with armored dragons.”

The young man gulped. He remembered his father telling him that story one night and remembered the description of saddles on dragons giving him uncomfortable anxiety when they were used for war. “Drago,” Hiccup supplied. “Drago Bludvist.”

“That’s good,” Stoick praised. “It’s not the name that matters though. It’s who they are. Alvin the Treacherous was my friend, Hiccup. And he betrayed my orders. Whereas Drago… he’s a threat unlike any other. I can only hope Odin himself came from the world tree and struck him down. But there will be another Drago, someday. Just as there will be men who betray you. Enemies from without and from within.”

“Wow, this is a really wonderful pep talk,” Hiccup grimaced, feeling his insides churn. “I can’t wait to be a leader now. Thanks, Dad.”

Stoick laughed. “You’re sharp,” he told him, “but you need something sharper.”

From beneath his cape Stoick pulled out a sheathed sword. The hilt was steel covered in strips of black leather, with a cross guard that immediately displayed Gobber’s master craftwork. The sword’s metal caught the light of the sun and glowed near gold as he drew it from the scabbard. An intricate design was engraved in the metal and Hiccup realized they were deep Nordic ruins. Offensive ruins were shaped on the flat of the blade, while defensive ones were on the hilt and the guard. The pommel of the blade was rounded and the engraving for fire shined bright in the light.

“Gobber helped me with it,” Stoick admitted as Hiccup twirled it in his hand. “You ain’t too suited to a great axe or hatchet, with your weight and your stance. It’s a chieftain’s blade. Flecks of gold that we found in the mind smelted into the metal.

Hiccup felt as if he could hardly breath. When he worked in the forges, most of the time he dealt with hardly more than scrap metal, twisting and melding it into ugly armor and weapons, or working on side to improve Toothless’s harness and flight tail. But this… if Gobber hadn’t crafted all of his working prosthetics by himself, Hiccup wouldn’t believe he was capable of something so beautiful.

He was at a loss of words, and the blade felt heavy as he returned it to his waist. Stoick was beaming at him with pride. “Happy birthday, Son.”

Hiccup felt, for one of the few times in his life, like his Father could actually see him. “T-thank you. Thanks, Dad.” He nodded. “Umm, I gotta… I gotta get my stuff.”

He hurried upstairs, gathering his pack and his new shield. As he gathered his gear, Hiccup could feel the need to run away ebbing out of him. People saw him. Astrid and his father, Gobber as well. They understood him a lot better than he’d thought. He couldn’t just disappear from that.

But he couldn’t slay dragons. Not with what he knew about them. Things needed to change, and Hiccup began to feel a responsibility to change them. 

He left the house willingly, pack and shield tied over his back, and newly forged sword attached at his waist belt. They went first to the square and gathered up the others before heading down to the docks. 

Stoick had some of the workers prepare them a longboat for their journey. They were given two barrels of basic provisions, a crate of supplies, and a couple of maps to make their journey.

“Now remember, you’re heading South at this angle,” Stoick tapped on the map. “Look for these landmarks along the way. If the ravens find you while out at sea, let them guide you.”

“I got it, Dad. I can read the map fine.”

Stoick chuckled. “There’s so much you know that I never taught you. I’m sorry for that, Hiccup.”

Hiccup blushed, feeling immensely uncomfortable. “It’s nothing,” he waved it off. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

“Tuffnut watch out!” someone called from the ship.

They turned just in time to see the teen be struck in the face by the flat end of a large wooden oar. He toppled over the edge and into the water. After a moment, his hand came back up over the side. “I’m okay!” he gasped, sounding waterlogged and not very okay.

Ruffnut, who’d been holding the oar, began laughing cruelly.

Hiccup looked back up to his dad. “We’ll be fine,” he repeated, though now sounded much less assured. 

They sailed outward from Berk, putting the rising sun on their starboard side. The wind blew in their favor. They were pushed southward at a quick pace, and Berk’s tall cliffs quickly faded behind them. 

As they went onward, Hiccup stared at the well-lit forest. A dark shape moved near the edge of the island before suddenly taking flight and moving upward into the high layer of clouds. Hiccup now felt a comfortable assurance, knowing Toothless would be tracking them from above.

He turned forward as they met the thick cloud of mist that surrounded their island. The sword on his waist felt heavy as they passed into the fog and continued on towards the dragon slayer’s island.