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“I’m sorry there is only one bed.”
“It’s okay, miss. We appreciate you letting us spend the night at your home.”
“I couldn’t let you and your dragons spend the night in that snow storm.”
“We’ll make sure they don’t break anything, miss.”
“Don’t worry about that. I know how they can be when they start playing. Just make sure everything is in order before my father comes back in the morning. He can be a little grumpy.”
“We will.”
“Okay, then. Have a good rest.”
The lady was out and the only bed just in front of us, looking toward us as if laughing at our disgrace. I had to be fast: Astrid wouldn’t let me win in a million years.
“Mine!” we both shouted at once running like frantic dogs to conquer the bed and jumping, jumping on it and crashing our heads together on the soft mattress.
“Ow!! careful there!”
“Ow you, bighead Viking!”
“Me?! Am I supposed to be the bighead warrior here?! Really?!”
“You can keep complaining in that corner. I arrived first,” she said pointing to a humid dark corner of the room.
“I don’t think so. I arrived first.”
“You’ve never been faster than me, Hiccup. You couldn’t win this thing from the start.”
“Okay then, if you don’t want to admit the truth, you’ll must fight for the bed.”
“You got it.”
I'm not a bighead Viking; what I really am is a big-mouth Viking. She beat me in less than two seconds.
“Okay, okay! You win!! You always win!”
“You already knew that,” she replied with a satisfied smile.
“Yeah… right.”
I accepted defeat and got up slowly, ready to find a corner to snuggle between the wings of my dragon friend, but she got up behind me and grabbed my sleeve laughing.
“Hey, I guess I can make room for a skinny lame. You won't take up too much space.”
“I'm not feeling especially flattered, you know?”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Fine. I'll let you enjoy the snoring of a lame, skinny Viking in the front row.”
“And will you let me braid your hair this time?”
“I guess I can do that as a thank you for sharing your bed with me.”
“You mean that bed your dragon is sleeping on?”
“Oh, gosh…”
“It’s okay,” she said sitting on the floor and patting the place next to her, “more time to braid.”
“Yaay…”
“You’ll thank me sooner or later.”
“Fine, you got it, milady: I’m all yours.”