Disclaimer: idem.

Warning: typos. Grammar errors. Sudden unintentional shifting between past and present tenses. False punctuation. Misused of capital letters. OOC-ness.


Chapter 7: Winter

It was six weeks, almost two months after Hiccup's disappearance. The first snow already fell down. Winter came earlier than expected.

After the last dragon raid, many houses were destroyed, including Gobber's smithy. They had worked together to repair the damage and fortunately everything was done before the first snow fell. But now their resources were dwindling. Food was scarce because they couldn't go out fishing. They had to depend on the hens and yaks for eggs and milk. But Vikings needed meat too.

Gobber brought down a doe from his shoulder on to the snow. It has heavy with nutritious meat and fresh scent of blood. It would be sufficient to feed at least a dozen adult Vikings. "How are you doing back there, Stoick?"

To his back was Stoick, shouldering a big boar, bigger than Gobber's doe. "Fine," He answered Gobber's inquiry. He then looked back to the snowy woods; he seemed reluctant to leave the forest.

"We'll go out again tomorrow night, Stoick." Gobber reassured him. "I'm sure the lass is still out there somewhere."

Stoick frowned in sadness, "You're probably right, Gobber." He reluctantly followed Gobber back to the village.

After three days of rallying the villagers for search parties, they grew tired of it and considered Hiccup dead. Stoick knew this. He gave up trying to make the villagers help him find Hiccup. Instead, he and Gobber went out to the woods every night to search for her, and every night they would be back without her, but with plenty of meat for winter supplies. It fed the village and it kept Stoick at ease, so they kept hunting during night time.

They both carried on to the supply room, near the great hall. Three women were there, filling fresh snows and ice into a crate where they saved yesterday's meat. One of the women approached to greet them. "Welcome back, Stoick, Gobber. It seems you were quite lucky with the hunt tonight."

Stoick nodded wordlessly and put the night's prizes into a crate. "These should be sufficient for at least two days. I'm counting on you." The women nodded at his words and they both turned to the great hall to find something to eat.

As the two men departed, the women started to whisper amongst each other. "Poor, chief Stoick. He'd lost his wife, now his daughter is dead too. I don't want to imagine what he's going through right now."

"Right. He's always trying so hard. Being a single father and chief is not easy. What was Hiccup thinking, just up and left her father like that?"

"It's not Hiccup's fault. It was the dragons! She shared the same fate as her mother before her. Didn't you hear the rumours? They found the remnants of her shoes and her tattered bloodied tunic in the forest. There were signs of monstrous nightmare nearby. She was either taken by the dragon like her mother or eaten on the spot!"

"Don't speak too loud! The chief could hear you."

"But don't you think for a grieving father, he looked much too nonchalant for you?"

"What do you mean? It's obvious that he's losing weight."

"I mean he never declared openly that Hiccup is dead. He never declared a new heir for his position as chief. He also never threw a funeral ceremony for her. Isn't that supposed to be tradition?"

"Maybe because they found no body to be cremated; that's why he never threw a funeral."

"Or maybe he's just in denial. Didn't you hear that he sometimes speaks about Hiccup as if she was still alive?"

Some women gasped. "Really? Oh, Thor, that is awful. I really feel bad for him."

"I think he's just in denial. I mean, his wife had died and he practically raised his daughter alone. He might regret not spending much time with her and treated her as if she was still alive."

"Oh, poor man. He should just declare her death, threw a funeral, and moving on. It's painful for him if he keeps going on like this."

"Ladies. What are you gossiping about?"

At the new voice, the ladies gasped and turned red in embarrassment. "Spitelout!" "We didn't see you there!" "Nothing in particular."

The polite smile Spitelout threw told them that he didn't believe that in the slightest. "Anyway, I was looking for Stoick. Did you see him around?"

"Oh, yes. He was with Gobber in the Great Hall."

"Thanks." Spitelout waved them goodbye and turned to the great hall.

As soon as they couldn't see his back anymore, the ladies began to whisper, "I wonder how much he had heard."

"He wouldn't report this to Stoick, would he?"

"He's just as arrogant as his son."

"No, I say his son got that from him."

"If Spitelout's son became chief, we would no doubt be in wars with other clans. We would perish!"

"I almost wished Hiccup was still alive. At least I know for sure she wouldn't lead us to war!"

"Dagur is bad enough. With Spitelout's son as the heir, I have no doubt we would have a war with Oswald's son."

"I hope Stoick doesn't make Spitelout's son as the heir."

"But with Hiccup gone, the only choice would be him."

"What about Astrid? She is more than capable to lead this village."

"But she is not from Stoick's bloodline."

"He treats her as such nowadays—even more than he did his own daughter."

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"Good evening, Stoick, Gobber." Spitelout stepped beside their table. Stoick and Gobber looked up at him and nodded in acknowledgement.

Gobber had never liked Spitelout before, even before he knew Stoick. He was too arrogant and too cowardice for all their sakes. Even more so after he had heard despicable ideas he had spread about his apprentice. He had ideas about sending human sacrifice to the Gods to stop dragon raids, and he had ideas that the perfect sacrifice would be Hiccup. Fortunately no one had agreed to something as repulsive as human sacrifice. It only remained as rumours and he had no intention to tell that to Stoick.

So he stood up gracelessly, pulling up his pants and bid his farewell. "Well, that was a good night, Stoick. I'm off to bed. Tell me if you have any other plans for tomorrow, would you?" Stoick grunted his reply and acknowledgment as Gobber left the building.

The dislike notion was mutual; Spitelout also had never liked Gobber. The man had never appreciated or shared his tastes in a good fight, wine, or women. For far-sighted Spitelout who always thought about himself and his family's reputation, Gobber's whimsical way of living never sat well with him. Even more so when he had taken the tiny weakling Hiccup as an apprentice. In his opinion, a leader should be strong and ambitious, like himself or his son, not a weakling like Stoick's daughter. But Gobber always had the delusion that Hiccup could lead better than Snotlout. He snorted quietly; as if. Hiccup couldn't even win a fight one on one against his son. He always found himself arguing with Gobber about whom would make better leader. So he was relieved when he was gone. Of course, he was not so stupid to admit this to Stoick. He knew that Gobber was Stoick's most trusted friend, even more so than himself—and Spitelout was his brother.

He then sat down at the chair Gobber had vacated. "Sorry to bother you this late, Stoick."

Stoick nodded. "What is it, Spitelout?"

"I overheard the birds talking," He started. "Why haven't you declare your daughter's death already?"

Stoick's eyes hardened. "Is that how much you wanted her death, Spitelout? If there weren't any signs of dragons near where we found Hiccup's tunic, I would've thought that you were the one who killed her."

Spitelout raised his hands in surrender, "I never said that, Stoick."

"But you implied it."

Spitelout sighed. "I just wanted to talk to you about the matter of heir."

"What of it?"

"Don't you think Snotlout is more than capable to lead Berk, Stoick?"

At that, Stoick sighed in exasperation. "No, Spitelout. We've had this talk before. He is selfish and difficult to cooperate with others. He still has so much to learn before we could dream of having him as the heir."

Spitelout frowned in disagreement. "Well, he's grown now than the last time we had this talk. I'm sure with the right education, you can teach him on how to be a great leader. You have to agree that he does have the charisma and capabilities as a leader."

"Yes, but leadership without brain means doom for Berk."

Spitelout's widened and he hit the table in anger. "How dare you say that about my son?!"

Stoick frowned. "I am merely stating the facts; just like you always did when you criticized my daughter's weaknesses as an heir. And you've never heard me complaining about it, because it's true."

"Your daughter was another story! She didn't have the capabilities to become a leader and she was too weak to even be called Viking!"

"Physical strength can be trained and she can and will become stronger. Besides, she is far too young to be talking about succeeding my position. Even with apparent physical weakness, you have to admit that she has better brains than your son. I'll have you know that she started blacksmithing with Gobber since she was five years old, and she is also the one who built our catapults."

"Odin's beard, wake up, Stoick! The only heir you'll have for now on is Snotlout! Hiccup is dead!"

Stoick moved so fast that Spitelout didn't see him. The table moved in front of his eyes and there was a large crack and a heavy blow to his face. When his brain could process again, he was on the ground, his nose was hurting and bleeding. It was probably broken. The table was already broken in splinters everywhere around him. Stoick was looming over him like an angry bear, his shadow casted fiercely by the torches in the room. There were only one or two Vikings left when he came, but now he was sure there were more of them watching.

"Hiccup is not dead. She is still alive. I can feel it in my bones."

His voice was soft, deep, hoarse, and dangerous. Spitelout was sure if he were to say a word, there would be more of his bones broken than just his nose.

"Take this as a warning, Spitelout. If I ever hear you say again that she is dead, I will personally consider you as her murderer and treat you as such." Spitelout's eyes widened in fear. "She is still alive somewhere; if not on Berk, then somewhere on this earth. And I will find her no matter what happen. Because that is my job as a father that I've been neglected."

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Gobber went back to the forge, feeling empty when he found it dark and cold. Broken weapons were stacked into a corner of a table haphazardly, waiting to be sorted and repaired. Without the fireplace going and the only dim light coming from outside, he began to realize that the only colour in this place is grey. It was strange; Gobber had never noticed it before. It was even more prominent now that Hiccup is gone.

Now he always returned to the cold and empty smithy. With the snow coming, works came slow to him, and he found himself seeking Stoick's company more often than not. Stoick still trusted him to train youngsters to fight dragons and they were always hunting together at night. So the smithy always left unattended. He was left feeling strangely empty now that he always returned from a long, exhausting day at the training to the dark smithy, cold fireplace, the mess of old ashes around the fireplace, and stacks of cold weapons left unorganized on the table.

Hiccup was the one who did the small things; small things that he had taken for granted before and now looked gigantic before his eyes. She was always the first one who lit up the fireplace in the mornings when the sky was still dark and the cold mist still visible; that was the sole reason Gobber had never came to cold and dark smithy before. She was the one waking the villagers in the morning with her pound of hammer on steel, the one who kept the fireplace warm and glowing, fetching their lunches, snacks, and dinners, turning on the oil lamps when the sun began to set. She was always the one leaving the latest between the two of them when the night was late enough to retire. She spent late nights sorting through the broken weapons, cleaning the equipment they've used, turning off the fireplace, sweeping away ashes and keeping the fireplace clean…

He felt tears started to well up in his eyes and he harshly brushed them off. It wouldn't do if he cried now, because he believed that Hiccup is still alive. And so is Stoick. Hiccup was still alive; if not on this island, then somewhere on this earth. She was not in Valhalla yet. She was just… taking a little vacation is all. Yes, it felt better to think like that; like she was just going for a vacation for a few months and expecting her to be back, even if they didn't know when that will happen. So he gathered himself together and stepped to the fireplace to get it going. It was not easy; the temperature was too low and the firewood was too damp, but he managed a small fire.

Maintaining a careful eye for the small fire to not let it die off, he began to sort through the broken weapons and decided to start on the easiest for now; the shields. It wasn't entirely made of steel, so he could finish some works while waiting for the fireplace to be hot enough to work on the swords later.

As he worked, he lamented the lack of Hiccup's chattering in the background. Despite his liveliness, he was not the type to chatter when he was seriously focused on his works. Hiccup was the one usually filling in the silence with her curiosity and lively chatters. She had a habit of looking over his shoulder when he was working on something new. He usually found this annoying because she would suddenly poked her head into his line of vision and hindered him from the work, but right now he would do anything for her to suddenly popped into his vision—no matter how much work she would cause him later.

Some villagers saw him worked as they passed over his the smithy.

"He is working again?"

"Don't you think it was enough with only him alone and without Hiccup?"

"He's always an oddball, aside from Hiccup that is."

"He doesn't look too bothered even without his apprentice."

"Isn't awful that he and the chief aren't grieving when Hiccup is already died?"

Gobber frowned. He heard everything. "At least Stoick and I keep looking for her, ungrateful bastards the lot of 'em," he thought to himself. How dare those villagers who had never even treated Hiccup right, now suddenly judged him and Stoick for their belief that Hiccup was still alive and not grieving. He supposed Vikings would always be judgemental idiots. He knew it; he'd experienced it. Even before Hiccup was born, before he met Stoick and Valka, he had been labelled as an oddball. He had accepted his fate; as long as he was not disturbed and he could be of use to the community. Being friends with the chief had its perks, namely not being openly ostracized. So he was sure that he's the only one who was able to understand Hiccup.

Hiccup had always been the odd one. She was born too early and she was too tiny. Valka had worried that she wouldn't survive, but Stoick had believed in her. Stoick believed that Hiccup was strong and he was right. Hiccup survived. Even until now, when her fate was uncertain and claimed dead by people on Berk, Stoick still believed in her. Stoick still believed that Hiccup had survived and was still alive somewhere on this earth.

"Gobber, are you busy?"

The moustached man was interrupted from his musings by a familiar voice. He looked over and saw the almost round figure of Fishlegs. "Hello, Legs. Are you here to borrow Hiccup's books again?" he greeted. After Hiccup's disappearance, the chubby boy visited the smithy more often now. He was usually more interested by the books that Hiccup left. Gobber insisted on building back Hiccup's small room when they rebuilding the smithy and he kept what's left of Hiccup's books inside it. And Fishlegs, being the curious boy he was, had been interested in them. He'd claimed that Hiccup had the most interesting tastes in books, even more interesting than the village's library. Gobber himself had never been there, but he had a feeling that Fishlegs had been confining himself in the library these days.

"Yes, if you don't mind me there." Fishlegs was still the timid boy he usually was, but now he had the air of determination around him. Gobber couldn't exactly name it, but they boy had certainly changed. "I can help around too, if you don't mind. I'm not as skilled as Hiccup, but I can clean or something."

Gobber's eyes softened and he motioned the boy to come inside. "Sure, lad. It's kinda lonely here without Hiccup's voice." Fishlegs' eyes turned conflicted when he mentioned Hiccup's name, but he obeyed and came inside. "As usual, you can take whatever you need in Hiccup's room. Just don't break anything."

"Sure, Gobber." The boy opened the worn, orange fabric before he looked up and down Hiccup's bookcase. Gobber noticed that he kept the fabric open. He took a few books and came back out, closing the fabric back. "Is there anything you need help cleaning?" He asked.

Gobber pointed at the broom by the corner of the room. "The ashes need to be cleaned. They're been here for at least a week." Fishlegs openly grimaced at that before he hurriedly grab the broom and sweeping the ashes around the fireplace.

They worked together in silence before Gobber spoke, "You're not much of a talker, are you, kid?"

Fishlegs looked up at him for a moment, "Well, no. No one ever took me seriously anyway."

"'Cept Hiccup, tho'." Gobber smiled.

Fishlegs also smiled, "Except Hiccup."

"Unlike most of us, she's never taken anyone for granted." Said Gobber.

There was a mournful silence save for the sound of his hammer and Fishleg's broom. Despite whatever he thought to save himself from grieving Hiccup's disappearance, her absence inevitably left a big hole in Gobber's life. Mourning was natural for him to do when she was gone, despite how many times he'd told himself that Hiccup hadn't died yet.

"How are you coping, Gobber?" Fishlegs asked carefully.

Gobber didn't look up from his work. "What do you mean, kid?"

"I mean, with Hiccup's… disappearance." Fishlegs was obviously didn't want to say the word 'death', and quickly replaced it with 'disappear' instead—not that it was comforting.

Gobber contemplated his answer. Obviously he was not happy, but he felt more emptiness and loneliness rather than sadness. But he wasn't sure if he should open his heart yet to the boy who had only recently noticed Hiccup because of her disappearance. "I'm okay." Fishlegs frowned, knowing that it was a lie, but didn't question him further. "What about you?"

"It was weird," The chubby boy answered carefully. "At first I was feeling very guilty. I mean, I've never hurt Hiccup—I don't think I ever could, but at the same time, I was thinking about what would become of her if I have the courage to actually stand up to her." He frowned distantly.

"If I stood up by her, would she stay? Would she still be here now? Would Snotlout stop bullying her if I did? I imagined I would've just become another bullied victim together with Hiccup. But would that be better for her, to have someone by her side? Or would it just made her feel guilty? Because Hiccup was that kind of girl, you know? She always took the blame for herself and took responsibilities on her own shoulders. Even though we all know how small her shoulders were."

Fishlegs stopped rambling and there mournful silence was back. Each was lost in their own thoughts.

"I want to be like her one day." Gobber looked up to the boy at that. "I want to have her strong determination, that sense of obligation and responsibilities she had. She had always been different, but she was never afraid of showing that. She was smaller than the rest of us—people never even called her a proper Viking, yet she was always the first one to wake up in the morning, helping the women grew crops, keeping herself updated on the inventories of food, cooking for both breakfast and lunches in the great hall kitchen,…" he trailed off, not because of grieving, but simply because what she did was too much for Fishlegs to mention one by one. "I think she was more of a Viking than the rest of us."

Gobber smiled at that, humming his agreement. His repeated motions over the shield were now filled with ease.

"I envied her, you know?" Gobber stole a glance at the wistful smile the boy sported. "She handled being different so well. I knew as well as her that I was also an oddball, struggling to fit in, when in reality I was just wanted to be like her. She put up with the bullying and did whatever she liked; painting, reading, inventing, daydreaming, even exploring the woods; the things that no normal Vikings would do. I wish I have the strength she had, to be able to do the things I like and enjoy them even when I'm being judged for it."

The man's eyes softened. "You do now, don't you?" Fishlegs looked up at Gobber who didn't look up from his work. "You're dedicated your time reading the books in the library and even preserved Hiccup's books. You're looking and absorb every bit of knowledge around you, just like Hiccup did and I know she would've if she's still here now. I don't think that is a bad thing. It showed that our ancestors' journals weren't going to be a waste of time now."

Gobber's respond made Fishlegs smiled and he returned to sweeping, even when there was nothing to be cleaned now.

"I stopped hanging out with the others." That news made Gobber rather surprised. He had never thought Fishlegs had it in him to refuse Snotlout's orders. "Not just me, though. I heard Ruffnut and Tuffnut are also distant with each other."

Now that news was a shock to him. Gobber knew better than anyone that the twins had never been separated from each other. Honestly, he was curious. "What happened to them? I know Tuffnut always shows up in training—I'm the teaching instructor, so I know he never skipped classes. He is getting stronger—not as strong as Astrid, but he's getting there. About Ruffnut, I only hear she was training under Grandmother Gothi, but that was it."

Fishlegs frowned. "We were in disagreement. They were in denial, I think." He didn't look up. The floor was spotless now, but Fishlegs didn't stop sweeping. "You know, the night when Hiccup disappear, I was the one who suggested us to help the others search for her. And believe it or not, Ruffnut was the first one amongst us who agreed. Snotlout refused to look, as predicted, but I didn't believe it when Astrid also refused to come with us."

"So it was just me and the twins going into the woods that night, to help the others find Hiccup. We were the first ones who found the scorch marks belonged to a monstrous nightmare and we followed the trail. When we got to the scene, there was so many fresh burnt marks—a monstrous nightmare was definitely there only recently—but we didn't find Hiccup. I didn't expect us to find Hiccup's bloodied tunics. We instantly assumed the worst after that. We were stunned to silence even after the others found us and the chief personally retrieved what was left of Hiccup's belongings."

"On the way home, the first one to crack was Tuffnut. He was screaming and blaming Ruffnut for Hiccup's death. Ruffnut, who was obviously blaming herself, crumbled after Tuffnut's accusations. She ran ahead of us and after that I barely heard from her again, until the news about her training to be a herbalist under Elder Gothi. People said that the Elder choose her because her parents are skilled herbalists too. But I personally think it was because Ruffnut thought she could replace Hiccup, at least for Elder Gothi. We all knew how close Hiccup was with the Elder and she doesn't have any heir. It was obvious that Tuffnut was also blaming himself and he accused Ruffnut out of frustration; he didn't actually mean it. I thought I must be the best listener in this village, because he always came to me first whenever he needed to speak his mind."

Gobber's eyes softened. "I see."

"Personally, I thought the best listener in this village is you, Gobber." The boy looked up at him and Gobber raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Why is that?"

"I've been spilling my thoughts to you, but you didn't interrupt or judging me or anything." He said. "I'm sure that's why Hiccup was always so comfortable around you."

The man smiled wistfully. "I sure hope so too, kid."

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Fishlegs was still reading the books he had borrowed from Hiccup's room in the smithy when Tuffnut appeared in the library's doorway and silently trudged up to him. He warily wondered how Tuffnut found him and what business he had with him. He had never told anyone except Gobber that the library was now his secret favourite spot.

He was silent. Fishlegs was still disturbed by this new person that looked like Tuffnut, but acted nothing like him. The old Tuffnut he knew would have laughed at his face and insulted him because reading was not what Vikings do. But this new Tuffnut just wordlessly sat beside him, leaning on a bookcase and started to clean his axe. Fishlegs knew that Tuffnut rarely talked now, even to his own sister, but he had never imagined he would come to him wordlessly like this.

Tuffnut never said anything to explain his presence and he didn't bother him—not really; so Fishlegs didn't ask and turned away from him to go back to his reading. Soon enough, Fishlegs was absorbed to the words in the books and forgotten entirely about Tuffnut's new silent presence by his side. They were like that until the sun down and when Fishlegs got up and gathered his books to leave, Tuffnut also wordlessly got up and silently went back home without saying anything, leaving Fishlegs to walk home by himself. The first thought that ran through his head was, "that was awkward. Let's never do that again."

Two days later, as usual, Fishlegs contained himself in the library, in the company of the books that he loved. Once again, Tuffnut came and sit beside him. Once again, Fishlegs was left wondering what was in his friend's mind, but didn't ask. It was awkward the first few days, but without he knew it, it became some sort of routine between the two of them.

Fishlegs learnt that there was no pattern to Tuffnut's visits. It looked like he just visited whenever he liked it and went away whenever he felt like it. He didn't really stay until sun down either. Sometimes he came earlier than him or went away earlier than him. Sometimes he visited just once a week, or twice a week. There was that one time he visited three days in a row. But it was always the same; they would just sit together, doing their own things, wordlessly. It wasn't an awkward silence now; just a comfortable silence of two friends who enjoyed each other's company.

The chubby boy suddenly realized that Tuffnut might be lonely. Ruffnut was training under Elder Gothi, so she could have someone to talk to. But Tuffnut was training together with the other teenagers, like Astrid and Snotlout—and they never hang out together anymore. Gobber might be more than willing to listen to Fishlegs or talk to Astrid, but he doubted that he would be so gracious to Tuffnut, the one who had bullied Hiccup so torturously together with Snotlout back when she was still alive. They both knew Gobber could be cruel when he wanted to be. That was why he thought that he was the only one Tuffnut could go and talk to without judgment. But the old, awkward Tuffnut who couldn't really express his feelings was still there, so he didn't say anything and let him when Tuffnut was only sitting there and cleaning his axe while he was reading. Fishlegs knew he would talk when he was ready.

It was three weeks and ten visits later that Tuffnut started to talk (and yes, Fishlegs counted that). He talked about the smallest things at first, "It's rather cold today, isn't it." "The training was especially difficult today." "Snotlout was being an idiot again." "I sparred with Astrid earlier." "She is ridiculously strong."

Then before long, it became, "I want to become strong like her." "I want to protect people I care about." "I wonder how Ruffnut is doing." "We rarely talk nowadays." "I kinda wish Hiccup is still here." "She would know what to say to her."

Then it became deeper. "I wish I've never bullied her in the first place." "We never meant anything serious." "We just wanted to mess with her a bit." "I know we were just jealous of her." "She was allowed to paint." "I wanted to paint too but father said painting is not what proper Vikings do." "She was allowed to read." "Ruffnut wanted to read too but mother said that reading is not what normal Vikings do." "She was allowed to craft." "I wanted to craft things too, but father pushed an axe to me and said that I am destined to kill dragons." "She was allowed to play in the woods and even cook." "Ruffnut wanted to do that too, but mother pushed her to learn how to concoct healing paste from plants instead of teaching her how to cook."

"We were never allowed to do what we wanted to do. So we pushed her around; we wanted her to do what we're forced to do too. But she never did, she just did what she likes, and we were jealous. People openly ostracized her and labelled her an oddball—even Mildew tried to threw rocks at her. So we thought that being different is bad, being different like Hiccup is not something we are supposed to do. So we tried to fit in. When Snotlout openly threw mud or eggs at her, we followed because we thought it looked 'cool'. When he openly insulted her, we followed because we thought it would fit us in."

"No one's death has been opened my eyes like Hiccup's did. We never actually fit in in the first place. Like Hiccup, we are weird. We just pretend that we fit in so people accepted us. But now that she's dead, all I want now is just to become stronger. I want to be stronger, so I can protect Ruffnut and mother and father. So nobody would die like Hiccup did."

Fishlegs gulped his dry throat and chocked on his own tears. Tuffnut didn't cry, but he did. He supposed perhaps Tuffnut had run out of tears already when he realized all of these, so he cried instead. Tuffnut just looked at him when sobbed disgustingly and snorted an amused laugh. "Idiot, why are you the one crying? I'm the one who supposed to do that." Fishlegs wailed louder. Tuffnut smiled wistfully but he stayed, waiting for his tears to stop. He never judged him or mocked him for crying. He just waited until his crying stopped.

That day, before the sun down, Tuffnut asked for his favour. "You must've read every book in this library by now, don't you?"

"Not every book, but I suppose you can say so. Why?"

"Can you tell me which the best book about herbal plants is? I want to give them to Ruffnut tonight. Maybe after that we can talk without being awkward again."

Being the gracious person he is, Fishlegs gave him the most detailed book about plants that he had ever read. It was thick, hard-covered, coloured dark green, and had the picture of a pink flower and many kinds of leaves. The title was written in elegant, curvy runes, "HERBALIST GUIDE. Written by Janison Hawkethorney." It was rather worn and dirty with charcoal. Only Fishlegs who knew why it was like worn out like that; it was because Hiccup used to read them repeatedly and brought it with her everywhere when they were small.

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Two days after Tuffnut's confession, he hadn't visited again but that was fine. Fishlegs supposed he was busy training; after all, he said it himself that he wanted to be stronger.

He wandered into the woods that day for a change. He usually cooped himself up in the library, but Fishlegs was not stupid. He knew it was a bad habit and staying cooped up in a damp dark place is not healthy. So he decided to breathe some fresh air. Besides, it's not really his first time in the forest either. He used to came here often with Hiccup, back when she was still alive, when they were still friends. They were still barely seven years old then. But even then, without him, Hiccup still meandered into the forest no matter what people say. He supposed the forest really had that kind of air that made someone feel safe.

The forest was cold and covered with snow, but that didn't stop him. He wore the thickest bear coat he could find and brought along a book and some charcoal. He wanted to write something as a journal, like the ancestors had done before them who left their journals so they can learn from their past mistakes.

He supposed writing small unimportant things could be a good start. He found a comfortable and dry spot to sit on. It's not too far from the village that he'd lost, but far enough that he'd need to have a good walk. He started to write inane things. First he was writing about himself; who he was, when he was born, who his parents were, what kind of community he was living in, about Berk, then about his friends. He wrote about the happy-go-lucky Gobber, the mean and bully Snotlout, the very stoic cold Astrid, and the twins' mischief. He was just about to start to write about Hiccup when someone stumbled upon him.

Fishlegs looked up at the sound of foot stepping over fresh snow and his eyes found Ruffnut's. He was so shocked that he was unable to say anything, while Ruffnut looked no less like a mice being cornered by a cat, ready to sprang away anytime. They just stood there, neither moved or dared say anything. He supposed Ruffnut must be out searching for some herbs, since she is training under Elder Gothi now.

He tried to diffuse to tension. He smiled awkwardly. "Hey, Ruff. Long time no see."

Ruffnut looked at anywhere else but him right now, but she shrugged. "Yeah. You too."

More awkward silence. "U-um, why are here?"

"Elder Gothi wanted me to look for herbs."

"But it's winter."

"This particular plant only grows in winter."

"Really?" Fishlegs was interested now. "What is it?"

Ruffnut snuffled from feet to feet, like she couldn't wait to get away. "Snow-drop."

Fishlegs smiled. He remembered that plant. "For other elders, I suppose?"

Ruffnut looked rather intrigued that he knew what it was for. "Yeah. You know about it?"

"Yeah. I confined myself in the library not to sleep the day away, you know." He closed his journal and stood up. "Let me help you find it."

Ruffnut looked like she was about to refuse, but then she nodded hesitantly and followed him when he turned away. "You know where to find it?"

Fishlegs nodded. "Yeah. It's been a long time, but I used to wander the forest along with Hiccup when we were kids." The mention of Hiccup's name brought an icy silence that was almost as cold that snow around them. He knew that he should stop talking but his mouth wouldn't stop. "We were still at least five or six back then. We were close because we had the same interests. We usually go visit the library, searching for good books to read, and wondered into the forest to play. Hiccup was always the one who lead the way. She knew this forest like the back of her hand—she never got lost. Not in this forest."

Fishlegs smiled at his own memories that seemed like from another life entirely. "She was a cheerful lass back then, you know. Always curious and always came up with ideas, no matter how ridiculous they were. Once, she dragged me to the river to look for trolls. Apparently she had read a folklore book about trolls and was determined to prove its existence." Fishlegs laughed at the memory. "She loved a book about herbal plants and after reading it together, we would play into the woods searching for said plants. Hiccup would always jot down where she found them so she could pick them whenever she needed to. The book became filled with her scribbles, but even then we only able to find about a dozen plants from the whole book."

"But soon after that, Mildew accused her being cursed by Thor in front of public just because she had painted a poor painting of Thor. Everything changed then. Snotlout began to bully her because she was different and he threatened me not to befriend her again. If not, I will become as much a victim as her." The silence was heavier now.

Fishlegs frowned at his own weakness. "If only I was stronger," he said. "If only I was brave enough to say 'no' to Snotlout. If only I stayed by her side, then perhaps Hiccup would be happier. Even though I was bullied, but at least I stayed by her side. We could suffer together; it would be more bearable that way, instead of letting her suffering alone. But I was selfish. I wanted to fit in too. I have never saw Hiccup as an oddball. But I…" He trailed off.

"Anyway, we're here." Fishlegs stepped into a small clearing. On the snow-covered ground, grew countless of small snowdrops. It's green stems looked like grass and it's small blossoms hung almost lifelessly towards the snow. "I hope you know the way back. This place is a bit far from the village."

Ruffnut passively stared at the small snow-covered garden filled with snowdrops. She didn't look like she heard him anymore. Fishlegs supposed he was a bit too far when he was talking about his memories from Hiccup earlier. "So yeah, I'll see you around, Ruff." He awkwardly saw himself out.

"I was selfish too," Fishlegs froze when he heard Ruffnut's soft voice. "I was jealous of Hiccup. She seemed happy doing her own things. Even when the folks labelled her as an oddball, as a runt, as a hiccup, she seemed content doing the things she liked. She never let the whispers, gossips, and name-calling pushed her around. She struggled through them and did things that made her happy. Now that I think about it, it was probably the only thing that made her content."

Fishlegs had heard Tuffnut's version of this tale, but he listened anyway. "I've always wanted to be a herbalist like her, always wanted to know the things she knew. It never struck upon me that I can just ask her how to be one instead of calling her stupid names. Now that I think about it, maybe Hiccup was not the only one who didn't fit in. Perhaps all of us have never fit in in the first place and just pretended to be so just to have someone to push around."

"Anyway, thanks for showing me the way, Fishlegs. I can find my own way back, don't worry." She then entered the clearing and gathered the snowdrops into the basket she brought along.

Fishlegs was staring at her back for some time before decided to leave. Her words lingered in his head. "Perhaps all of us have never fit in in the first place and just pretended to be so just to have someone to push around." Fishlegs knew how right she was. None of them in that group has ever fit in; not him, not the twins. Not even Astrid.

He stole a last glance to Ruffnut's back to make sure she was okay and his eyes strayed to the book on her basket. It was the same book he had given Tuffnut two nights before. The same book that Hiccup had loved.

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Author's note:

Sorry for the long wait, everyone. Goodness, this chapter is awfully hard to write! I have never wrote this level of guilt, regret, and sadness before, and this chapter reeks of them. And this is just one part of it. It was getting too long so I had to cut it into two parts. I still have Astrid's story to write. It's going to be even more difficult. I have never written in Astrid point of view before so it's going to be a challenge.

But even with how difficult this was, I have fun with it! I love writing people of Berk. I especially love my interpretation of Gobber and the twins. I've written them in Fishlegs' point of view because I thought I should start to tell stories from the characters' conversations instead of long-ass descriptive paragraphs. That's also the reason why I decided to cut almost all descriptive paragraphs that I think wasn't really important, but then I get paranoid because I thought it wouldn't be enough. So yeah. That's part of why this chapter is so late. I hope you are comfortable with it. Tell me if you have trouble imagining things when reading it, so I can do it better.

Now, I've done a very small research about snowdrops. I know it doesn't really grow in winter, but in early spring. But for the sake of the plot, please pretend that it does, okay? And I've chosen snowdrops because it has the substance to act as an antidote for certain poisons and is helpful for treating Alzheimer disease. But at the same it contains poisons too. Now I am not a chemist and reading about it confused me, so I only left it at "helpful to treat the elders" because I don't really understand. So please cut me some slack.

I'm truly sorry for the late update. But I hope this chapter is enough to quench your curiosity for now until next month. Thank you for waiting so (im)patiently. Please tell me what you feel about this chapter in the review box below. Thank you too for everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited this story so far. I'm really glad you're all enjoying this story.

MMM: Hiccup will be fine, but it'll be at least one more chapter before you see her. Thank you for reviewing :D

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Guest: Thank you and I'm glad you're enjoying this story so far. I hope you will be back for more.

Thank you everyone who reviewed this story. I'm sorry I can't reply to all of you. Please understand that internet in my country is still a luxury and costs a lot of money. I also don't receive any profits from this work. So I really appreciate all of you who spare your precious times into reading this story that is still far from perfect. The only thing that keeps me going is your responds that told me to keep going. So thank you. I love you all 3 I'll see you in the next chapter. Bye :D