Chapter Text
When you think of a Viking you normally think of the classic horned helmet, the bulging muscles, the gigantic weapons, and the absolute lack of fear that they had.
Well, those Vikings are exactly the type of Vikings that Berk has.
Each Berkian has been training since birth- Hel, probably from the womb, to fight and kill dragons. Dragon killing is what earns a Viking respect and glory in Berk.
A Deadly Nadder is the traditional starting point. Killing one of those will at least get you noticed. A Gronkle’s tough exterior makes it hard to kill, which means you’d definitely get the attention of your crush. Zipplebacks are basically a two-in-one combo, twice the heads, twice the status. The Monstrous Nightmare, which has the tendency of setting themselves on fire, is a sure fire way to get famous. Only the best Viking have ever killed them.
And finally, the Nightfury. No one has ever seen these dragons and lived to tell the tale- at least, that’s what Gobber says.
To kill a dragon you had to have the guts and the physique.
One particular Berkian child has neither. In fact, most other Berkians would say that she’s not a Viking at all. With her shy demeanour and small stature, Asteria didn’t fit in at all on Berk. Though it wasn’t just that.
If you asked her what her first memory was, Asteria would reluctantly tell you it was of the other kids making fun of her name. It isn’t a bad name per say, it just wasn’t a traditional Viking name.
Asteria Himmin.
A mix of Greek and Norse names that, when put together, meant ‘Star Sky’. If you asked the other Berk kids they’d tell you that it was a fitting non-Viking name for a non-Viking-like girl.
Outwardly, she was a plain looking girl. As plain as a loaf of Mrs. Ingerman’s bread. A day old loaf, maybe. She wasn’t the prettiest of the batch, but hopefully, someone would take a liking to her, just like how some people prefer day old bread.
If she were to describe herself Asteria would say she was smaller in size with absolutely no muscle with mud coloured hair and boring leaf coloured eyes. If you asked a Berkian bystander, they probably wouldn’t even remember what she looked like, she was too insignificant to remember. Though she would be right about her size and lack of muscles, in reality, Asteria had light brown hair that shone in the light and bright green eyes that drew you in.
Apart from the weird name, the small physique, and the lack of Viking muscle, there was one driving factor that kept her apart from all the other Berkians.
She played the lyre and dreamed to be a skald, a Viking who would travel from place to place singing songs and telling stories.
Of course, when she told her parents this, they laughed. As did everyone else on Berk.
Berk was an island that churned out iron-willed and strong Vikings, not weak, pathetic lyre players who wouldn’t even be able to fight off a Terrible Terror.
Despite becoming the laughingstock of Berk, Asteria knew that becoming a skald was her calling. She wanted nothing more than to spend her days plucking the strings of the instrument and travelling around the vast archipelago.
Maybe, she thought, it would be easier if she had a dragon. Having a dragon would solve all her problems. She’d no longer be the butt of all the jokes, people wouldn’t look down on her, and she’d finally be able to escape dreary Berk.
Asteria dismissed the though, knowing full well that it was impossible.
Right?