Gobber stares down at the scrawny looking lad before him. “It’s uncanny… Ya’ look just like I remember yur’ mom… da?... Hiccup did before he dis’peared.” The old smith wipes the beads of sweat from his brow. “I know ya’ never spent much time in tha’ forge… Why are ya’ here now?”
Chaser looks up from the small bench he was sitting on, “I want to be useful while I’m here. I can’t exactly fly out and help with the fishing anymore.”
“Aye… An’ ya’ probably wan’ ta’ keep tha’ to yur’ self.” The big man slams his hammer down upon a glowing rod of iron, making Chaser wince at the thought of how much damage that same hammer could do to a dragon. “Yur’ wantin’ to see if ya’ can be my apprentice?” With a twist and a pull, Gobber detaches his hammer and thrusts it into Chaser’s arms.
Stumbling slightly from the sudden weight, the young man looks expectantly at the old smith.
Without a word, Gobber looks to an empty spot on the wall, before grabbing his metal ‘tong’ hand and attaching it.
Chaser quickly hangs the hammer in its spot on the wall, only to turn around and have a smaller hammer and tongs thrust into his hands. “Alrigh’... Let’s see wha’ ya’ can do, eh?”
Shifting the hammer to his left hand, he uses the right to grasp the red iron rod Gobber had been hammering away at. Looking to the older man for any instruction only to be met with silence. With a deep breath, Chaser slams the hammer down on the glowing piece of metal. Again, and again he strikes, sending the occasional spray of sparks skyward.
Gobber’s big hand grasps Chaser’s left arm, stopping his swing. “No’ bad. But yur’ wastin’ a lot o’ energy. Let the bounce help bring yur’ arm up for the next stroke. Here, put tha’ back in the forge ta’ heat.”
Following his instruction, Chaser thrusts the rod back into the coals, where Gobber pumps the bellows making the fire inside burn with an almost dragon-like intensity. “Why didn’t you tell me that first?”
“I believe in learnin’ on the job. If I jus’ tol’ ya’, do ya’ think it woulda’ stuck? Alrigh’ it should be hot enough ta’ work some more.”
Removing the iron, Chaser strikes it again, letting the bounce bring his arm back into position for another strike. After a few awkward strokes, he finds himself falling into a rhythm and loosing himself to the task. As the iron cools, Gobber has him heat it again.
“Heat makes the metal easier ta’ work. Work it too long and it cools, and ya’ might as well be beatin’ yur’ head against a rock.” Gobber pauses a moment to examine the lad before him. “But knowin’ yur’ Stoick’s blood, ya’ might just break it in two.” The old smith laughs at his personal joke. Before gesturing back to the forge.
“Umm… What exactly are we making?” Chaser finally asks as he looks at the mostly flattened piece of metal.
“Eh? Oh, Nothin’. I didn’a have any jobs, so I was just working some scrap ta’ keep in practice.” The old smith looks down at the mildly misshapened piece of ironwork, “If ya’ keep this up ya’ might just have the beginin’ o’ a basic sword.” Reaching into a large barrel nearby, Gobber draws out an incomplete blade. The tip had been shattered off, but the tang was still in good shape. “Here… If ya’ want… Hammer tha’ part here like this,” he gestures to the tang. “When ya’ get tha’ done, we can go back to tha’ blade.”
Chaser does as instructed, working for the better part of the morning with Gobber. The old smith watches him closely, amazed by his stamina and speed. In silent fascination he makes note that halfway through the blade’s construction Chaser switched hands. Hammering with his right just as effectively as he had with his left.
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Generations: Broken Prophesy Story
FanfictionIt has been over a decade since the war. Dragons and Vikings found a balance with each other, but tensions build as Tannlaus and Kari's daughters approach adulthood. What do the Norns have in store for the trio of Shadewings?
