Gobber's POV
I was inspecting the village shore like usual, though those duties had started to change after little Hiccup's birth and Valka's death, which had left Stoick a different man, if anything else, I still couldn't believe it had been a year since then.
The waves lapped against the sand, calm and rhythmic, until a sudden tide rolled in, catching me off guard. A wall of water surged over my boots, soaking my foot and peg leg alike. Bah, blasted sea, always finding a way to sneak up on you.
As the wave retreated, something caught my eye, nestled just on the edge of the sand, small waves crashing into it, over and over. Too big to be a fish, I thought. My curiosity piqued, I hurried toward it, my peg leg sinking slightly in the sand.
When I reached the thing, I stopped short, my breath catching. It was a boy, no older than five, his blonde almost whitish hair matted with saltwater. His eyes were closed, and his chest wasn't moving.
I knelt down beside him and gave his face a light slap.
"Wake up!" I barked, though I wasn't expecting much. Poor lad seemed beyond saving.
But then his eyes flew open, two pure balls of sapphire, staring straight into mine. He coughed violently, saltwater spilling from his lips in great heaving splashes.
"Koff, koff, koff," he sputtered, fighting for breath. I leaned back, watching him with worry, after all watching a five year old cough back from death was something no viking wanted to see.
MC POV
"Koff, koff, koff."
The sound tore from my throat, harsh and raw, as I vomited up seawater. Each cough burned, but air finally found its way back into my lungs. I blinked, disoriented, the world tilting and spinning around me.
"Hey, lad. You okay? Who are you?"
The deep voice startled me.
I turned my head to find its source, a burly man with a blonde mustache thick enough to rival a broom, a horned helmet perched atop his head, and a peg leg sinking slightly into the sand. His right hand was missing, replaced by a metal mace, something which I found distinctly weird.
"What?" I croaked, my voice hoarse and weak.
"Who. Are. You?" he repeated, slower this time, like he was talking to someone daft.
I opened my mouth to answer, but my mind came up blank. My name, my past, it was all a fog. All I could recall was screaming. Endless, gut-wrenching screaming, I couldn't tell how many, they all seemed to jumble like a ball of yarn.
Then the images came. Fire, so much fire, devouring everything in its path. Shadowy figures, beasts, soaring through the inferno, no roars came from them, just a whipping sound of things going at amazing speeds while blasts surged around me, a filtering of blue before turning to fire's normal orange.
My arms trembled, and my whole body was on edge, I felt paralyzed, from head to toe. The hem of my shirt, tattered and caked with salt, caught under my fingertips. Without thinking, I lifted it, exposing my chest.
There, running from my left hip to my pectoral, was a burn mark. A swirling scar, blackened and raw, stood out against my pale skin.
The man's expression shifted instantly, worry replacing his gruff demeanor. He crouched closer, tearing away the rest of my shirt with surprising care. I flinched but couldn't move away, my legs still trembling beneath me.
"We need to get you to that Old Bat, quick," he muttered, pressing a hand lightly to my chest. "Can you walk?"
I couldn't respond. The screams in my head drowned out everything else. Fire consumed my vision, and the swirling scar burnt, I didn't know how it burnt it just did.
"Oh, for Odin's sake," the man grumbled before scooping me up into his arms. His hold was firm but careful, like he was afraid I'd break.
"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he added.
I couldn't even nod. My head lolled against his chest as he carried me away from the beach. His peg leg thudded against the wooden bridges and cobblestone paths, each step jarring but steady. I barely noticed the curious stares of villagers as we passed. Everything blurred together, my senses dulled by exhaustion and the lingering screams in my mind.
At last, the man kicked open the door of a small house with his peg leg.
"Old Bat! We need your help!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the space.
I felt myself being laid down on something soft.
A bed?
My vision blurred again, but not before I caught sight of a wiry old woman with twin blonde braids and a cane. She moved toward me, her eyes sharp despite her hunched posture. And then, everything went dark.
When I woke, the world was quieter. The screams, fire and whipping sounds had stopped, the burning had fainted, finally my mind was quiet. My body felt heavy, my limbs weighed down by fatigue.
I blinked against the dim light of the room, my gaze settling on the man from the beach. He was slumped in a chair nearby, his head tipped back, snoring loudly.
The room around us was cluttered. Shelves groaned under the weight of jars filled with strange liquids. Animal pelts, eyes, entrails, everything was littered around, honestly it felt very eerie.
A creak drew my attention. My head turned sluggishly toward the stairs, where the old woman from before was descending. Her cane tapped against the wooden steps, punctuating each movement. She shuffled over to the man and jabbed him sharply in the stomach with her cane.
"I'm up, I'm up!" he yelped, nearly falling out of his chair. His eyes darted around before settling on me.
"And so are you, by the looks of it," he said, grinning.
Before he could say anything the lady smacked the headboard.
"Oh yeah, right," he said after which he stood and walked over, gently propping me up against the headboard. The blanket covering me slipped off, revealing my bandaged chest. My skin tingled under the wrappings, a dull reminder of the scar beneath.
Meanwhile, the old woman rummaged through a cupboard, her cane swatting aside jars until she found what she wanted. She returned with a bottle of green liquid and thrust it into my hands before pointing at my mouth with her cane.
"I need to drink this?" I asked, eyeing the murky contents. The smell hit me before I even uncorked it, sharp and foul.
She nodded, her expression stern.
"Ugh, this smells horrible," I muttered, grimacing.
She slammed her cane against the floor in response, making me jump.
"Don't make the Old Bat angry," the man said with a chuckle which stopped as soon as he let the words out as he was smacked on his back with her cane.
Terrified of what she might do, I pinched my nose and downed the liquid in one go. It was vile, slimy, and bitter, and I gagged as it went down.
"Ugh, that's disgusting! What is this, toad paste and water?" I coughed.
"Could be," the man replied with a shrug. "Only she knows what's in the potions."
The old woman ignored him, pointing her cane at my bandaged chest.
"What?" I asked, still recovering from the awful taste.
"We need to come here once a week to change your bandages and put on more of the paste for the burn," the man explained.
"You got all that from her pointing?"
"You get used to it."
I wanted to ask more, but he cut me off.
"Anyway, name's Gobber. Who are you?"
I wanted to reply, but all that came up was screams and fire but this time much more mellowed out, as if they were drowned in honey, but then I heard a scream one which I could distinguish from all the rest, though I couldn't make all of it out, there was one word which I could.
"-- Thorfinn!!"
Looking up at the two blondes standing in front of me, looking expectant for some reason. I muttered what felt like my name.
"Thorfinn," I muttered. "My name is Thorfinn."
[A/N: I know that if his chest was burnt the shirt should have been burnt too, there will be an explanation for that lol, I didn't just forget though then again maybe I did]