Thorfinn POV
I stared at Stoick, Hiccup in his arms as we walked across the village, Stoick and Gobber spoke with one another, I however continued to stare intently.
If he had lied and that's a big if, why would he lie about it?
The burn marks on the ship didn't match what Sliquifiers could do. I'd read about them in the dragon manual - they were tidal class dragons that spat acid, not fire. The singed edges looked more like the work of a stoker class dragon, something that breathed actual flames. But why would Stoick lie about something like that?
My mind raced through possibilities. Maybe he was protecting someone? Maybe there was something about the attack he didn't want the village to know? Or maybe... maybe I was wrong entirely. Maybe Sliquifiers could breathe fire too, and the manual was incomplete.
Ughh I'm not good at this people stuff, I thought as I scratched my snow white hair, which had grown a bit, and I had braided since my time here.
A rough voice reached my ears.
"Are you okay Thorfinn?"
Both Gobber and Stoick were staring at me now.
"I'm fine," I replied. "Just thinking."
They both nodded.
I however looked in a quick glance back at the pier, then at Stoick. The two surviving vikings were still standing there, talking in hushed tones to some of the other villagers.
Stoick is a grownup, I'm sure he knows what he's doing and who's to say he actually lied, I'm sure he knows better than I.
But the doubt lingered all the same.
It wasn't long before we reached chief's home. The wooden structure, I had somewhat lived in loomed above me, it had seemed so imposing when I first laid my eyes on it, now not so much, I guess time changes things like Gothi always says.
Well not really says, more like slams her walking stick on the ground.
Stoick walked inside, leaving both Gobber and I standing outside, he turned to us slowly.
"Good bye, Gobber, Thorfinn, I'll be taking a short rest," he then turned fully to Gobber. "I'll talk to you later about the funeral preparations."
Gobber nodded, and Stoick closed the door behind him, leaving us standing there.
"So?" Gobber asked as he turned to face me, his mustache twitching slightly in what I'd learned was a sign he was thinking. "What do you want to do boy?"
I looked back at him, noting the way his prosthetic hand kept opening and closing.
"Don't you have to sharpen axes and forge new weapons?"
He waved his hand off. "We don't have to take care of Hiccup so much now, so I'll have time for it later on. So what do you want to do?"
I looked at him, his moustache swaying a bit in the wind.
We remained quiet, as I tried not to think of the conspiracy I had formed in my head, which could very likely be wrong. I tried thinking of something Gobber and I could do together, but realized something-
"I don't know," I spoke aloud.
"You don't know what you want to do?"
I nodded. My days since I woke up were mostly the same, take care of Hiccup, carve, hide from dragon attacks, read a few of the books, go to Gothi's every once in a while if just to keep her company or healing.
It was strange, this feeling of not knowing.
Gobber looked at me as he smiled, though it was partly hidden behind his moustache. T
"How about we go troll hunting," he suggested, his voice taking on a more cheerful tone.
I cocked my head to the side at that. In all my reading of the dragon manual and listening to viking stories, trolls had seemed more like myths than reality.
"Trolls are real?" I asked.
"Yes they are, and they love stealing your socks, only the left one's though, what's up with that."
I stared at him for a moment, trying to determine if he was being serious. With Gobber, it was often hard to tell.
"You're not joking?"
"About trolls? Never!" He declared dramatically. "Nasty little things, about knee-high, smell like rotting fish, and they have this obsession with left socks. Lost three good pairs to them just last month."
Despite everything, I found myself almost smiling. "And we're going to hunt them?"
"Well, more like chase them away from the village. They've been getting bolder lately, probably because most of our warriors were away with Stoick. Can't have them thinking they can just waltz in here and steal our socks."
I considered this. It sounded absurd, but then again, so did living with dragons constantly attacking your village. And it would give me something to focus on other than the nagging doubts about Stoick's story.
"Alright," I said. "Let's go troll hunting."
Stoick POV
The door closed behind me, I then brought Hiccup to his room, sat on a rocking chair and rocked, over and over again, his rummaging over my beard, slowly coming to a stop, as he fell asleep a top of it.
The familiar weight of my son in my arms should have been comforting, but instead it only made the knot in my stomach tighten. Every time I looked at him, I thought about what Drago had said, about the future he'd promised - or threatened.
"All will bow to me, or they will burn."
The words echoed in my mind as I watched Hiccup's peaceful face. He was so small, so innocent. How could I protect him from something like Drago Bludvist? How could I protect any of them?
I walked to the craddle, laying him on slowly, I smiled as he kicked his small feet a bit.
"He really is small, huh Valka," I muttered. "Still I'm sure he'll grow to be the best of us, not a doubt in my mind." I added, my finger touching his cheek, Hiccup's hand seemingly subconsciously grasping it with his left hand.
The touch was so gentle, so trusting. My throat tightened as I watched him sleep so peacefully, unaware of the dangers that might be coming for all of us.
I smiled and slowly pulled my finger away sitting once more on the rocking chair.
The weight of leadership had never felt heavier than it did now. Every decision I made could mean the difference between life and death for every person on this island. And now, with the knowledge of what Drago was capable of, every choice felt impossible.
Should I have told the village the truth? Should I have prepared them for what might be coming? Or was I right to try to protect them from the fear that would surely follow?
I thought about the other chiefs who had been at that meeting. Most of them were dead now, their villages likely burned to the ground. The ones who had escaped with me had sworn to keep silent about Drago, at least until we could figure out what to do. But how long could we maintain that silence?
A tired sigh released from my lips.
"Let's keep quiet about Drago Bludvist for now, Berk is unkown from most maps as it's a farily new settlement, nothing followed our ship and we are already prepared for war if he does come because of the dragon attacks, so no need to rial up the village."
With those final words, my eyes closed and I fell to slumber.
I was really tired.