Hello again, guys. Thank you, as always, for your support! I love knowing that people are still enjoying this story. :)

With that, here's chapter 21: Hiccup needs some marital advice; where's the best place to get it? The only Viking on Berk who's not married, of course. XD This chapter was requested quite a while ago by Anonymous, who asked to see a chapter with Hiccup and Astrid in their older years. Thank you for the suggestion, sorry for the slow response, and I hope you enjoy it!

As always, reviews are never required but always appreciated. Thanks for visiting and please enjoy!

The sun had just disappeared over the distant horizon, bathing the village of Berk in inky blue moonlight, and Gobber had finally returned home from a long day of labor at the forge. While he definitely did enjoy his time in the village smithy, now that he was beginning to get older he also relished the time he was able to spend at home, relaxing in front of the hearth with Grump lying happily beside him, resting his aching stumps and soaking up the heat from the flames.

Gobber had just started to doze off in his pelt-covered chair when there was a frantic knocking at the door, and within a second, Gobber was bolt upright, bushy eyebrows furrowed. He very rarely got visitors at his house, since he spent almost all of his time at the forge—generally, if someone was visiting, there was a problem…

Gobber got up, sticking one flat hand in Grump's direction to keep the Hotburple still (not that the dragon seemed very inclined to move anyway), and he grabbed his axe prosthetic from where it lay beside his chair, slowly attaching it to his forearm as he crept towards the door. The knocking returned a second time, a little harder, and Gobber slowly gripped the door—before throwing the it open and rearing his axe back over his head, giving a fierce battle cry of "Yaaaaaah!"

"Aaah!"

"Yaaaaah!—Hiccup?"

"Gobber!" Said young man had thrown both hands over his face as if this might protect him from a battle axe to the skull, "For Thor's sake! It's me! Put your axe down!"

Gobber lowered the weapon to hang at his side, staring at his apprentice in disbelief. "Hiccup! What're ye doin' here? Ye pract'lly made me ruin my undies!"

Hiccup finally lowered his hands once he was sure his mentor was not going to chop him in half, rolling his eyes at the blacksmith's casual accusation. "Well, sorry. It's just… kind of an emergency."

Gobber frowned deeply, concerned despite himself. "What did yer dad do this time?"

"What? No, it's not my dad… not this time, at least. It's… me, I guess. I need to tell you something."

Gobber analyzed Hiccup for a moment—the twenty-year-old was twisting his odd little braid around one finger anxiously, avoiding eye contact. Something was definitely up. Gobber didn't usually like letting visitors into his shabby hut, but… it was Hiccup; he could make an exception. "… 'Kay. Come on in." Gobber stepped aside and Hiccup entered, Gobber shutting the door behind him and following him over to the fireplace.

"So… Where's yer Night Fury at?" Gobber made idle conversation as he grabbed a small table and dragged it over—he only had one chair in the house, after all, so Hiccup would just have to make do.

Hiccup managed to laugh slightly as he bent down to affectionately stroke Grump's chin; the lazy dragon rumbled happily but didn't move. "Catching dinner, I suppose." Gobber pushed the table to Hiccup and the boy sat on it without comment; this wasn't the first time he had visited Gobber and been met with strange accommodations, after all.

"So…" Gobber dropped into his chair across from where Hiccup sat and began to undo his axe prosthetic, "What exactly were ye needin' to talk to me 'bout?" The blacksmith knew all too well, after all, that Hiccup was generally not inclined to visit him at his house, due to the very real possibility that he would get his head removed from his shoulders by a half-asleep Gobber. Whatever Hiccup had to get off his chest, it must have been of crucial importance.

"Well…" Hiccup fiddled with a few straps on his scratched leather armor, "It's… kinda… kinda very important. Promise you won't laugh at me or anything."

Gobber shook his arm once the axe was removed, "Ye know I can't make promises like that, Hiccup."

The young man rolled his eyes. "Well, that's good enough. … It's about Astrid."

It took Gobber exactly one second to start laughing. "Astrid? Girl problems, eh? Lil' trouble in paradise, there, Hic?"

"Well, no… I wouldn't really call it a problem…" Hiccup shifted on top of the table, obviously uncomfortable. "It's just… there's something I need to do, you know… concerning Astrid."

The boy's voice trailed off into near silence as he balled his fists nervously, and Gobber stared at him for a few seconds without comprehension.

"… I'm not gettin' ye, lad."

Hiccup let out a sigh at this, before finally looking Gobber in the eyes. "Gobber. I'm going to propose to Astrid." A beat of silence passed, Gobber staring at Hiccup like the boy had just spoken Latin, and the dragon trainer heaved an irritated sigh before enunciating, "You know—propose. As in, ask her to marry me."

Hiccup's eyes had cast down, half-dreading Gobber's response (which he expected in the form of Gobber laughing in his face), but it wasn't two seconds later that Gobber had him in an enthusiastic headlock and was giving him the noogie of the century, while Hiccup flailed in his grip, shouting in indignation.

"Hiccup!" Gobber yelled, "Yer gonna do what?"

"Uh—propose?" Hiccup repeated confusedly, pushing at Gobber's arms to no avail, but the blacksmith's grip just tightened.

"Well, whaddaya know! I'm so happy for ye, Hic! That's great!" Finally Gobber released him, sitting back in his chair and grinning at his apprentice while the young man tidied his hair, a bit miffed but smiling at Gobber's spirited response. "So, how did this come 'bout, eh?"

"Well…" Hiccup smiled, eyes bright, though he scratched his head a bit in embarrassment. "I've just been thinking about it for a long time, and I figured—well, maybe it's time we, eh… tied the knot. You know?"

Gobber gave a gap-toothed grin. "Well, good for you, Hiccup. I hope that works out for ye." He started to get up, presumably to do whatever Gobber needed to do before bed, but Hiccup grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged.

"Hey, hey. That wasn't exactly what I wanted to tell you."

"Wha—it wasn't?" Gobber demanded, incredulously. "What more could ye need to tell me 'bout? Did ye see Odin's ghost or somethin'? Have ye performed a miracle? Are ye growin' yer foot back?"

"Ha ha," Hiccup deadpanned. "No. What I wanted to tell you, Gobber, is that I need some advice."

"Advice for what?"

"Advice for proposing to Astrid!"

It was at this point that Gobber really did laugh in Hiccup's face. He threw his head back and guffawed, like that was the most ridiculous request he'd ever heard. "Don't be stupid, Hiccup. Why would I have any good advice for ye 'bout that?"

"Well, I don't now!" Hiccup blustered; he hadn't anticipated getting Gobber's advice to be this difficult. He had thought the blacksmith would be thrilled to help him, to be honest. "You're the one always going around saying you were a 'regular romantic back in the day'!"

"Well, I was!" Gobber retorted defensively, "But that don't mean I have any good advice 'bout marriage."

"What are you talking about? That's exactly what that means!"

Gobber laughed, planting his hands on his hips. "Hiccup. Think 'bout it. How many adults on this island are married?"

"Well, all of them."

"Except for…?"

"Except for…" Hiccup shifted awkwardly. "… you."

Gobber patted Hiccup's head. "Exactly. Why doncha go ask yer dad? I'm sure he's full of good advice."

"I can't ask my dad! You know him. If he knew I was going to propose, he would freak. Out." Hiccup looked a little frightened at the very prospect, eyes distant like he was glimpsing the end of the world inside his head. "And within ten minutes the entire Viking Archipelago would already have our wedding planned and be asking us what we're going to name our first ten children."

Gobber grimaced at the thought, considering his best friend's tendency to overreact, especially when it came to his son. "That… don't sound too far off the mark, really. Okay, I… guess I can help ye."

"Really?" The grin returned to Hiccup's face. "Thanks, Gobber. You're a lifesaver! So… how do you think I should go about it?"

"Well…" A sage smile crept to Gobber's face as he began to pace lazy circles around Hiccup's table, preening a little; he enjoyed getting the opportunity to share his very worldly knowledge on these kinds of things. "Ye definitely need music. Sing her some poetry."

"Gobber, I can't sing," Hiccup protested, swiveling around on the table to follow Gobber.

"Sure ye can!" Gobber dismissed him with a wave of his stump, "I mean, yer dad's not too bad at singing, and I reckon it runs in the family." Gobber shrugged like this was perfect logic and the answer to Hiccup's problems, before continuing, "And ye need to give 'er a gift, too. Like a pair of nice golden earrings!"

"Astrid hates jewelry."

"Don't matter. And location's important, too! Like, the forge would be a good place. Lots of molten steel, razor-sharp blades… Very romantic!"

Hiccup groaned; he was beginning to understand why Gobber did not get married. "Gobber, I am not proposing to Astrid in the forge. Why can't I just… take her on a flight or something?"

"Hey, who's the romance expert here, huh?" Gobber demanded.

Hiccup rolled his eyes but grumbled begrudgingly, "… You are…"

"That's right. Now, the last thing ye need to definitely do is perform a dance for 'er! Start real slow, romantic, then break out one o' these!" Gobber performed a brief, very complicated move with his feet flying in all directions, which Hiccup gaped at in confused mortification, before Gobber continued excitedly, "Sweep 'er off her feet! She'll be like—like molten steel in your hands, then."

Hiccup cringed briefly at the analogy, before objecting, "Gobber, I can't sing, Astrid hate jewelry, I don't want to propose in the forge, and if I couldn't dance even with two legs, then I really doubt I'll be able to now. I mean… do you really think any of this is going to make her any more likely to say yes?"

"Hiccup, Hiccup, Hiccup," Gobber chided, shaking his head, "Trust me. It'll all go smooth as smooth can be if ye just follow my advice."

Hiccup let out a deep breath. "Well… I'll take her flying, and then I guess I can try the singing, dancing, and gifts. I mean… I don't have any other bright ideas, unfortunately."

"Good lad." Gobber gave Hiccup's armored shoulder a congratulatory beating, signaling that the conversation was over and it was time for the young man to get out of his house, and Hiccup stood from the table with a sigh. He was not exactly convinced of the merit in Gobber's ideas of romance, but it was better than nothing, which was exactly what he had managed to come up with on his own. Who knew? Astrid might even actually like the weird romantic gestures.

"Well… thanks again for the advice, Gobber. Uh, you won't tell my dad I was here, will you?"

"'Course not. Come back n' tell me when ye've proposed!"

"All right…"

As Hiccup walked out, already planning his course of action for proposing to Astrid the next day, he glanced up to the stars and mouthed a prayer to the gods that there was some substance to Gobber's self-proclaimed romantic tactics.

Mid-afternoon the next day, Gobber was busily tidying the forge, the usual queue of customers asking for saddles at the window gone during the lunchtime hour. Stoick had left to go name a newborn, leaving Gobber to himself.

There was a sudden knock at the window, and Gobber glanced over to see Hiccup standing there, hair mussed and looking generally a little worse for wear.

"Hiccup!" Gobber cried, waving frantically and hobbling over as quickly as he could manage, "How did it—didja do it?"

"… Well, I followed all of your advice, minus the forge bit…" Hiccup replied hesitantly, coming to lean against the windowsill.

Gobber raised both eyebrows expectantly with a wide grin. "Well? And? She loved it, didn't she? She said yes 'fore ye even finished yer sentence, didn't she? C'mon, Hiccup. Don't hold out on me, now. What happened?"

"Well… I wish I could say it went that well…" Hiccup bit his lip, glancing down at his feet awkwardly. "She laughed at my singing, she hated the earrings, and she just about died when I tried to start dancing..."

Gobber was starting to frown, wondering just what was wrong with the lass that made her adverse to his obviously wonderful ideas, when Hiccup finally looked up from his feet with a bright, slightly embarrassed smile.

"But… in spite of the fact that I made a total idiot of myself… she still said yes."

It took Gobber a beat before he laid claim to his indirect victory. "Ha ha!" Gobber cried out triumphantly, excitedly grasping both of Hiccup's shoulders from over the sill and shaking them violently, "Ye see? Ye see, Hic? Nobody knows the ladies better than I do!"

Hiccup started to look peeved, prying Gobber's hands off of him. "Hey! Whatever made her say yes, it was not your 'ideas.' They were a disaster! It's a wonder she even stuck around to see the whole thing!"

"But she still said yes, didn't she?" Gobber crowed, and Hiccup rolled his eyes, dropping the argument. No matter how much he had abjectly humiliated himself, he was still betrothed to the first and only love of his life… so just this once, he was willing to let Gobber have this "victory."

Next time, however, Hiccup would be sure to ask his father instead, because in hindsight, maybe asking the only single Viking on Berk for romantic advice was not the brightest idea.

Angela: I'm really glad you liked it and thought it was funny! Thanks for reading and reviewing. :)

Guest: I'm really glad you liked it! I have definitely modified Gobber's abrasive personality a bit in some chapters, particularly in the ones where Hiccup is younger, and I'm glad you still think that it feels natural and in-character. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing! I hope you continue to enjoy all future chapters. :)