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Chapter Text

Fifteen-year-old Hiccup Haddock raced down the hill towards the forge. There were dragons everywhere.  As he dodged fellow Vikings defending the village, anyone who spotted him shouted harshly “What are you doing out?” or “Get back inside!”  Didn’t they realize that he was going to his assigned dragon raid station at the forge?

As he neared the forge, he failed to see his father, who snagged him by the collar and hoisted him off the ground.  “What is he doing….What are you doing outside?  I thought I told you to stay inside if there’s a raid!”

Hiccup couldn’t believe that his own father had forgotten that his assigned dragon raid battle station was the forge.  Just how was he expected to get there from his house anyway?  Use a nonexistent tunnel?  Fly?  As if he could do that! 

“I’m going to the forge, Dad. To help Gobber,” Hiccup replied, carefully avoiding his characteristic sarcasm.

“Then get there quick!  You can’t be outside!”

“Yes Dad.”  Hiccup knew there was no point in arguing.  “Could you put me down please?”

Hiccup’s father didn’t realize that he was still holding his son in the air.  Dropping him none too gently to the ground, he growled “Get going!  And don’t let me see you outside again.”

Hiccup sprinted for the forge all the while wondering how he could cope with conflicting orders.  If he left his house during a raid, he would be scolded for going outside.  If he didn’t go to the forge to carry out his assignment, he’d be punished for that!  Didn’t his dad realize that the orders were in conflict?  No matter what he did, Hiccup was in the wrong.  It was a no-win situation.

In any case, Hiccup had no intention of staying in if the right opportunity presented itself.  Suddenly a familiar whistle pierced the night sky followed by cries of “Night Fury!  Get down!”  Hiccup looked towards the sky above the sea in time to see a silhouette block the stars, followed by a blast of purple plasma which destroyed a catapult.  In the light of the fireball Hiccup glimpsed a dark shape with broad wings speeding past the destroyed weapon.

“Yesss!” he cried.  Tonight he would get his chance to shoot down the Night Fury.  At last he could impress Astrid and his dad.  His bola launcher was ready.  All that he needed was a moment without Gobber in the forge.  Then, as he reached the door to the forge, he skidded to a halt.  Standing at the door, holding a wicked-looking club, was Bucket.

“Bucket!  What are you doing here?  Shouldn’t you be defending your farm with Mulch?”

“Chief’s orders.  I’m to make sure that you don’t leave the forge, by whatever way I can,” Bucket replied, motioning to the club.  “You’re to man the hatch, nothing else.  If you try to leave, I’m supposed to knock you out with this and put you safely in the forge.” 

“But Bucket!  I’m not going to go anywhere!  You need to help Mulch at your farm!  I’m fine!”

“Sorry Hiccup.  Chief’s orders.”

Without another word, Hiccup entered the forge and stood at the hatch, watching the raiding dragons and the villagers fighting them with a glum expression.  At least Gobber, the blacksmith and his mentor, wasn’t there to harass him.  Hiccup had noticed that Gobber’s axe hand was missing from its rack.  He was out fighting the dragons.

Hiccup’s bola launcher, which he had named “The Tangler” was ready in the back of the forge.  There was no way that he was getting it to the cliffs past Bucket, and it was too big to go out the back door.  His opportunity was gone, maybe for good.  He saw his fellow teens fighting the fires that the dragons had set and thought “Their job is so much cooler than mine.”  He got a glimpse of Astrid as she doused a fire only to have a dragon’s fireball explode behind her and reignite it, just missing her as she raced to refill her bucket.  He smiled as he saw her determined expression, but the smile faded as he glumly thought that he’d never again get the chance to impress the beautiful blonde that he was crushing on.  If there would be a guard on the forge from this point on, there was no way that he’d get the chance to shoot down a Night Fury.  His weapon invention days looked to be over.

Bucket noticed Hiccup’s gloomy expression as he carefully watched his new charge.  He didn’t like his new duty.  Hiccup was his friend.  He thought that the chief’s order was overly harsh, particularly having him there with a club.  But, orders were orders.

As Astrid raced to refill her bucket, she saw Hiccup watching her, as usual, from the forge hatch.  What was unusual was his expression.  Instead of the goofy, dreamy look that he usually had when he watched her, he looked gloomy.  She had missed his initial smile.  She idly wondered what could be wrong for a moment, but then noticed Bucket standing in the forge doorway cradling a club.  “The Chief has finally done something about his crazy inventions,” she thought.  “It’s about time.  Maybe a little less clean-up after a raid.”

Then she recalled Hiccup’s glum expression in the hatch.  She thought of the motivation behind all of Hiccup’s crazy inventions, that being regaining the favor of the village.  Finding a way to fight dragons using his brains.  He didn’t have the physical strength to fight them in any other way.  His route to achieving that goal was effectively blocked.  At that moment her heart sank, feeling sorry for her former best friend.  He really only wanted to do his part fighting dragons.  But the raid was still in progress.  She had a job to do.  With that her concentration returned to the task at hand, firefighting.

As Hiccup watched Astrid race away, a villager approached the hatch with a mangled sword, demanding another and spewing the usual insults at Hiccup, drawing his attention away from his crush.  One villager with a damaged weapon led to another, then another.  Soon a line had formed, and Hiccup was too busy to think about much other than swapping good weapons for wrecked ones and trying to ignore the stream of insults from his fellow Berkians even as he fought to fill their demands.  During a brief lull he stared at the pile of broken swords, maces, spears and bolas and groaned.  “Looks like this is going to be my life from now on,” he thought dejectedly.

Chapter Text

Four years later…

Hiccup Haddock woke slowly in his bed in the loft.  Downstairs, his father, Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Hooligan tribe, was snoring.  It sounded like a herd of yaks stampeding and shook the house.  “ How can anyone snore that loud?  The gods can probably hear him in Asgard!”   Hiccup thought with a groan.  A thought that he’d had many times over the years.  Hiccup looked anxiously towards the ceiling, half expecting a lightning bolt from Mjolnir to crash into the house from a wrathful Thor, upset at having his sleep disturbed.  Something had to be upsetting the gods, given the number of thunderstorms over the past few days.  What, oh what, had Berk done to upset Thor so?

Of course, an oversized snore went with an oversized man.  Stoick was nearly seven feet tall with a massive flaming red beard and long red hair, weighing in at nearly four hundred pounds.  Hiccup had dealt with his father’s snores for years now, so maybe that wasn’t the cause for the gods’ wrath.

Still, there was a bright side to the storms…no dragon raids.  Dragons didn’t raid Berk in stormy weather.  Maybe Thor was actually doing Berk a favor.  Wouldn’t that be a twist, having the gods help Berk with its dragon raid problem?

Well, there was no going back to sleep now.  He hadn’t gotten much sleep anyway, with so many concerns swirling in his mind.  He needed to think, and there was no way he’d get any coherent thinking done with all that noise.  There was a much better place for that.

With a sigh, he rose and dressed, pulling on his dark green leggings, loose green tunic, fur vest and warm boots.  He grabbed his dagger and stuck it in his belt.  Then, as an afterthought, he grabbed a cloth pouch with some dried salmon and a flat barley cake that he kept in his bedroom for late night snacks.  It was possible that he would be at his destination for longer than normal.  Best to be prepared.

The young Viking climbed the ladder to the ceiling hatch and exited to the roof, then carefully walked to where the back of the roof met the steep hill behind the house.  It was still dark, but a waning three quarters moon gave more than enough light.

Hiccup headed into the forest towards his secret hideaway, the cove at Raven Point.  It was a large, steep sided depression with one hidden access point.  It had a small oval shaped lake roughly centered in the cove and could only be accessed via a pinch through which his wiry frame could easily pass and a relatively easy descent from there.  Even though it was somewhat obscured, he easily traversed the game trail through the woods, and then the branch trail to the access.  He moved quietly, ears pricked for any sounds that might betray a hazard such as a stray dragon, or more likely the ever-dangerous wild boars.  Occasionally, a twig that he’d missed snapped underfoot.  But, for the most part, his movements were silent.

Hiccup often wondered why no one had ever mentioned the cove, or if he was the first to find it.  Many in the Hooligan Tribe believed that at night gnomes and trolls came out in the forest.  They were reluctant to enter the forest around Raven Point even in daylight.  Some thought that it was haunted by evil spirits.  Hiccup chuckled quietly at that thought.  He’d been there many times over the years to escape his tormentors or simply to get away and think.  He’d never encountered gnomes, trolls or spirits, although he had once been treed for hours by a boar.  He’d been in huge trouble with his Dad and with Gobber, the village blacksmith to whom he was apprenticed, over that bit of tardiness.

Dawn was just beginning to break when he slipped into the cove, wandered over to his favorite thinking rock next to the lake, and sat down with a sigh.  Too many problems to ponder all at once.  Chief among these problems was how to gain at least some respect from the tribe, something he had been fretting over for years.  He had failed Dragon Training in a spectacular and nearly fatal fashion four years earlier.  At fifteen he had been much smaller than the average teen.  He had trouble with weapons, having never received any practical training from his father who was always too busy with village business or problems.  There was never a problem too small for the Chief to attend to, he’d say.  “ Yeah, except for his fishbone of a son ,” Hiccup thought bitterly.

Now he was two months past his nineteenth birthday and was still scorned and ridiculed by his fellow teens as well as the village at large.  Many, including his cousin Snotlout Jorgenson, called him “Useless.”  Other nicknames, such as “Fishbone,” “Twig” or “Stickboy” were still used, but less common than earlier in his teen years.  Snotlout had frequently beat him up, often just for the Hel of it.  When the other tribes visited, the heirs, all more buff and Viking-like, would also abuse him.  Dagur, Heir to the Berserker tribe and now their chief, would throw knives at him.  Thuggory, Heir to the Meathead tribe, would tackle him to the ground and pin him, or pick him up and hang him by his shirt from a tree branch, sometimes upside down.

Then there was Camicazi, Heir to the all-female Bog Burglars tribe.  The wild-haired blonde with pale blue eyes had been his friend but had a penchant for kleptomania and pranks which usually ended up being blamed on Hiccup.  In the past two years, having developed into a buxom and aggressive young woman, she had openly flirted with him at tribal meets, much to his embarrassment and Cami’s amusement.  He liked Cami, but his heart belonged to someone else.  Thankfully, Cami had more recently become interested in another young Hooligan.  Despite that, she still delighted in flirting with Hiccup, enjoying how uncomfortable that made him.

His growth spurt had finally hit, and he just topped six feet tall.  He had stunning emerald green eyes and a shock of unruly auburn hair that resisted any kind of order.  He was still thin, but years of working in the forge had developed wiry muscles which were hidden by his loose tunic.  And those muscles had mostly ended Snotlout’s physical abuse.  On one particular day, Snotlout had been taunting Hiccup about his failures in just about everything and shoving him around.  Finally pushed over the edge by a particularly crude comment about Astrid, Hiccup had flattened Snotlout with one hard left to the jaw.  After that, Snotlout steered clear of that fist, and only beat up Hiccup if he had help and managed to ambush him.  The verbal taunting continued unabated, both from his peers and nearly all the villagers, something that Hiccup did his best to ignore despite how much it hurt.

During dragon attacks he was stuck in the forge, either handing out weapons or starting repairs on damaged ones.  Gobber would often leave the forge to fight, leaving Hiccup to cover the hatch for him.  A large man who could be more than a bit of a muttonhead, Gobber was an excellent and inventive blacksmith.  He was a double amputee, minus his left arm to the elbow and his right leg to the knee.  He’d lost these limbs to dragon attacks, both limbs bitten cleanly off.  It was a miracle that the losses hadn’t killed him.  The wounds had sealed quickly, preventing him from bleeding to death.  Another bizarre mystery.  Hiccup idly wondered if dragon saliva had healing properties.  Or maybe the heat in a dragon’s mouth instantly cauterized the wounds, as Vikings would often do with hot steel.

Like Hiccup, Gobber was left handed. The loss of his left hand should have finished him as a blacksmith.  But, inventive soul that he was, Gobber had devised a number of interchangeable hands to use in place of his normal hook.  Blacksmith attachments such as different hammers, files, and weapons such as a short axe.  Too bad he hadn’t invented something more than a simple peg to replace his leg and foot.

Over the years Hiccup had used his clever mind to invent weapons that would compensate for his physical shortcomings.  He had to work on the weapons in secret, building them in his own little room in the back of the forge.  Sometimes they had to be assembled after removing them from the back room.  There was, it seemed, never the opportunity to safely test his inventions and work out any bugs.  As a result, all had been spectacular failures, often causing significant damage to the village and branding him as a menace.

He thought grimly of his failed inventions.  The “Spear Chucker,” basically an oversized crossbow or ballista.  The prototype had proven clumsy to aim, and his only shot grazed the top of Gothi’s hut, damaging the roof.  He’d had to repair that with no help and shuddered with the thought of the oversized arrow going lower and hurting or killing Gothi, the village elder and healer.  The weapon was promptly scrapped by Gobber, even though Gothi had not seemed overly upset by the damage.  His net launcher met a similar fate.  On its only use, he had only managed to net (and enrage) some of his fellow Vikings fighting a clutch of Deadly Nadders.

His multiple water bag slingshot had also failed.  It was meant to douse the flame on a Monstrous Nightmare.  It had taken him months to make water bags from sheep and yak stomachs that were thin enough to break on impact.  On its first trial, he’d hit a Monstrous Nightmare that Stoick was fighting with disastrous results.  Hiccup hadn’t realized that the gel which the Nightmare excreted to make its body flame up floated and would spread like whale oil on water.  He was lucky that that mishap hadn’t done more than slightly singe his father.

He never built his Zippleback cutter, mainly for lack of materials and a place to build it.  The idea was to have a trip wire attached to a large swinging axe to behead the gas head of a Zippleback when it tried to breathe the explosive gas into the house.  Visions of slicing up one of the hut residents with the giant axe finally stopped him from even trying that one.

Hiccup had tried to invent other tools to help the firefighting crews, but always seemed to come up short.  The best method seemed to be some sort of bucket or trough mounted to the roof peak of a house, able to be tripped by a simple rope release.  However, even those who thought the idea had merit balked at the labor of filling them during the dry season or after being used.  It seemed that any idea of his was shot down by the tiniest of objections.

It got so bad that Stoick had assigned a guard to the forge to keep Hiccup in during dragon attacks after his last weapon, a small multiarmed trebuchet able to throw several stones at once, had malfunctioned and did major damage to the Great Hall.  After that debacle, he designed but never built a repeating catapult.  The device had four arms in a circle.  Firing the loaded one would draw the next arm into position to be loaded from a v-shaped slide with rocks in a row before being cocked for firing.  When he ceased his efforts, he was still pondering how to make it a rapid fire device.

He hadn’t even gotten to try his final completed invention, a large bola launcher that he called “The Tangler.”  It was his attempt to bring down the dreaded Night Fury.  He’d even planned to fire it towards the sea so that it would cause no damage if he missed.

Hiccup had spotted the Night Fury eclipsing the background stars on one attack and had watched for it thereafter.  He had noticed that it always attacked from the sea.  But the launcher sat with other junk in the forge’s back room, covered with a tarp.  He had only just finished it and was doing fine tuning when the guard, Bucket, was assigned.  Surprisingly, although Gobber knew it was there, he had never scrapped it.

Bucket was a friend, and Mulch’s brother.  Hiccup often helped Bucket and Mulch with their livestock. They were two of the very few Hooligans that he counted as friends.  Bucket had been struck by lightning years earlier and now wore a bucket on his head.  While the strike hadn’t killed him, it had done brain damage which left him somewhat slow and unable to fight dragons.  But he was loyal to a fault and made a steadfast guard for the forge.  There was no way that Hiccup would hurt his friend by sneaking away to try a new weapon during dragon attacks.

Then there had been the utter disaster of dragon training.  He’d been nearly engulfed by Gronkle lava during the first round of training, saved only at the last minute by Gobber snagging the reptile by the lower jaw with his hook causing the lava burst to miss.  Training against the other dragons had gone just as badly.  In the team training against a Zippleback, his water toss failed to reach the spark head.  He was knocked unconscious by the Zippleback gas, again being saved by Gobber from the small explosion that followed.  The final humiliation came with the Terrible Terror.  After jumping Tuffnut Thorston and biting his nose, the Terror had decided that Hiccup’s head was a suitable perch and landed on it, gripping his helmet with its claws.  After giving his peers a huge laugh at Hiccup’s inability to remove the Terror from his head, it finally got bored and flew back to its pen.  Following the Terror incident, he was finally dropped from the group.  He was lucky that he had barely escaped being killed on more than one occasion.

Hiccup thought back to his father’s words after the debacle with the shot trebuchet.  Stoick had asked why he couldn’t obey the simplest orders, and he had replied, “I can’t help myself!  When I see a dragon, I just have to kill it,” while making a neck snapping motion with his hands.

His father had replied “You’re many things, but a dragon killer is not one of them.”

Maybe his father was right.  Maybe he was destined to never be a dragon killer.

If only he’d had some support for his schemes and had been allowed to test and fine tune his inventions before actually using them.  They might have helped to fend off the dragon attacks, which had gradually worsened since his confinement to the forge.  More villagers had been lost to the dragons in the last four years, and he knew that Berk was gradually losing the war.  The only strange thing was that in the last year, Night Fury sightings had become less frequent.  That, at least, was a welcome development.  Fewer of the large weapons such as the catapults had been destroyed in attacks, helping to reduce the damage from the attacks a little.

Being under constant guard during dragon attacks had quenched his enthusiasm for inventing new things.  Most of his inventions had been aimed at fighting dragons.  Try as he may, while he had tried to dream up something not related to dragon fighting, he had found little success.  He doubted that anyone would be receptive to his ideas anyway.  He still idly sketched new ideas from time to time, but much less frequently than he had before Bucket had been assigned as his guard.  Often he would start sketching an idea only to abandon it in frustration.  If he couldn’t build his ideas, what was the point?  And if he could, all that he would likely get were more sneers and insults.  Better not to even bother.  It was painful either way.

After being restricted to the forge under guard, Hiccup had resolved to become Berk’s best blacksmith, surpassing Gobber’s skills.  Initially, Hiccup worked only on repairing weapons, working with little enthusiasm.  He had refused all of Gobber’s attempts to have him forge new weapons.  After a couple of months of sullen, uninspired work, Gobber had finally decided that something was wrong and had a long talk with Hiccup.  Much of Hiccup’s frustration surfaced during that talk.  Gobber did his best to ignore Hiccup’s rant, and gently, over the next few weeks, finally coaxed Hiccup into crafting new conventional weapons for the village.

Grudgingly, Hiccup finally accepted that he had some worth as a blacksmith and began working again to improve his skills, if only with muted enthusiasm.  He gradually put more and more effort into becoming a master blacksmith and had largely succeeded.  His creations were some of the finest ever seen on Berk.  Hiccup had thought that his skills as a blacksmith might at least earn him some respect from the villagers.  That their image of him as a menace, as Useless, would begin to fade.

But that hadn’t happened.  Four years had passed since his inventions had caused any damage and the disaster of dragon training, but customers at the forge would still grumble “Did Useless touch this?” to Gobber, not wanting anything to do with a weapon Hiccup had repaired or crafted.  He had learned to remain silent in the face of such taunts and to try to not let them discourage him.  He had found that his razor wit and snarky replies only made things worse.  Gobber wouldn’t answer the question, simply asking the person to inspect the weapon to see if they were satisfied, which they always were.  It hurt Hiccup that Gobber wouldn’t defend his work, but he knew that doing so would only hurt the two limbed blacksmith and his business.  One day they would find out, for Hiccup always engraved “HHHIII” in an out of the way place on the weapons that he made, one that could only be found by looking for it.

Ah well, at least Stoick hadn’t disowned him as heir.  Only Gobber’s protests and his praise for Hiccup’s skill as a blacksmith, which now rivaled his own, had prevented that.  So far!  That, and the skills which Hiccup had learned from his dad in diplomacy and dealing with the tribes from the other islands.  Spitelout Jorgenson was still agitating to have his son and Hiccup’s cousin, the buff, brash, arrogant and basically clueless Snotlout take Hiccup’s place as heir.  Snotlout wouldn’t know diplomacy if it bit him in the butt.  Seemingly endless tries by Stoick to get Snotlout to learn at least a few of these skills and be a backup if something happened to Hiccup had failed to penetrate his thick skull.  Snotlout seemed to think that any problem could be solved with a sword or a mace.  He failed to see any problem with inciting conflict rather than negotiating peace.

With a sigh and some difficulty, Hiccup put the thoughts of the past out of his mind.  The sun was rising higher now, and he wanted to see if he could think of any innovation or action which might bring him the respect of the village and his peers.  He had a couple of hours before he had to be at the forge.  But nothing was coming to mind other than revisiting his firefighting ideas, and his thoughts drifted to a more personal problem, Astrid.

Astrid Hofferson was his crush.  They had been friends since they were five, and by age ten Hiccup knew that she was the love of his life.  Beautiful with sapphire blue eyes, she had long sun blonde hair which she wore in an elaborate braid draped over her left shoulder with unruly bangs cascading over her left eye.  She wore a studded maiden’s kransen and had a light dusting of faint freckles under her eyes.  Her lithe figure was breathtaking.  She often wore a wooly skirt overlaid with studded leather strips and a bird skull belt over blue leggings with leather knee pads, a red tunic, fur-lined knee-high boots, layered fur-lined iron pauldrons on her shoulders and bracers on her forearms.  The victor of Dragon Training with Hiccup’s class, she had become the Shield Maiden that she’d always dreamed of becoming.  And that was the problem.  Shield Maidens stayed single for life.

Hiccup and Astrid’s friendship had waned after her uncle, Fearless Finn Hofferson, was killed by the Flightmare.  It had hit a low point when they were training against a Deadly Nadder.  She had leapt off a barrier wall to escape the Nadder, landing on him and embedding her axe in his shield.  She had nearly torn his arm off trying to get the axe and shield free before finally ripping the shield free from his arm and swatting the Nadder on the nose with the shield axe combination.  He still recalled her scornful words from that day: “Is this some kind of joke to you?  Our parent’s war is about to become ours.  Figure out which side you’re on.” 

Still, he had earned some respect from her, at least, for saving her life when the Flightmare had returned.  Hoping to redeem the Hofferson name by defeating the dragon which had killed her Uncle Finn, she too was paralyzed by the dragon’s mist.  Luckily for her, Hiccup had followed her and managed to drag her to cover before the Flightmare could return to finish her.  She never revealed what happened and demanded that Hiccup stay silent as well, embarrassed by her failure to defeat the dragon.

After Dragon Training, Astrid became totally involved with training both herself and the younger Vikings who were preparing for Dragon Training.  She also became one of the premier dragon killers on Berk, fighting to defend the village during raids.  She rarely talked to Hiccup now, except when she came to the forge to have her axe serviced.  At least those conversations were friendly, given her preoccupation with becoming the best Shield Maiden ever and her love of weapons.  Those visits, though infrequent, led to talks about her axe and weapons in general, which were lively and gave Hiccup hope that their close friendship at least might be rekindled.

There was little other opportunity for them to spend time together, what with Hiccup’s work in the forge and her mainly associating with the other teens during off times.  In those infrequent times when they ran into one another outside the forge, such as at the Great Hall, his attempts to draw her into conversation were usually politely rebuffed.  It was as if her mind was only on her responsibilities at those times.  Still, Hiccup was nothing if not persistent.  He continued his attempts to improve their relationship, albeit cautiously.  He was afraid of alienating her if he pushed too hard.

Hiccup had made Astrid several gifts over the years, which she’d accepted gracefully if with little enthusiasm for the giver.  After her victory over the Monstrous Nightmare, he had crafted a necklace from one of the dragon’s red scales, caging it in silver wire to mark her achievement.  When she made her first kill defending Berk, a blue and gold Nadder, he recovered a number of smaller blue and gold scales and made her a bracelet to commemorate her victory.  He had crafted a couple of daggers and a compound bow and arrows for her armory, as well as a couple of deadly double-bladed spears as birthday or Snoggletog gifts.  The compound bow was modeled after a Mongol bow that Trader Johann had shown him on one of his visits.  Although her eyes had lit up at the gifts, they had done nothing to help his attempts to spend time alone with her or court her.

Hiccup’s best gift to her was his first, her double-headed axe.  Her axe was at the forge now, having been damaged in the last dragon attack.  She didn’t know that Hiccup, not Gobber, had made her axe when he was ten, his first solo project in the forge.  It was a special commission from her father for her tenth birthday.  When he found out about the order, Hiccup had begged Gobber to let him make the axe and provide any help that he needed.  After hearing Hiccup’s pleas for several days, Gobber finally relented.  Hiccup had poured his heart and soul into making the axe.  It was a bit large for her at ten, by design, to allow her to grow into a proper Shield Maiden’s weapon.  Double-headed with a long hardwood handle, spiral wrapped in strip leather with iron studs, it was a thing of deadly beauty.  Its double crescent head was unique to all the axes on Berk save Gobber’s axe hand.  Despite his crush on her, when Hiccup delivered the axe to Astrid’s father, he had only said that Gobber asked him to deliver it.

Hiccup had a secret plan even then.  He had helped Gobber refine a method for getting the forge hot enough to melt iron, allowing castings to be made.  Rather than using a wooden shape to make a sand mold to cast the head, Hiccup had carefully carved a two-piece mold into blocks of the hard lava rock that was common on the island.  He had even devised a pin and clamp system to secure the mold.  Drilling the sockets for the pins and the opening for the molten steel on the top of the mold had been one of the harder tasks. Making the mold had taken so long that he almost missed the deadline.  But he had the mold stored away so that he could make an exact duplicate of her beloved axe.  And that was what he was doing right now.

He was remaking her original axe, which had been cracked beyond repair.  In addition, he was making an exact duplicate axe so that she had a spare when her beloved axe needed work.  She had complained bitterly that she couldn’t practice properly with a loaner axe from the armory, because none were close enough in weight, balance and above all, shape, to hers.  That threw off her training.  Hiccup’s reminder that she should practice with other weapons just in case hers got broken hadn’t gone over well.  Maybe the gift, which was targeted for her nineteenth birthday in about two weeks, would rekindle their friendship and hopefully much more.  But then, she was so focused on being a Shield Maiden, and he’d heard her say more than once that, like any true Shield Maiden, that she would never marry.  She had not only rebuffed Hiccup’s attempts to woo her, she had shunned the advances of every boy on Berk.  Any romantic involvement was out of the question.  He sighed softly at that depressing thought.

Hiccup’s mind wandered to what it would be like to hold Astrid in his arms, or to kiss her.  He could almost taste her sweet lips in his imagination.  What would it be like to stroll through the village holding her hand?  He could envision sitting snuggled together watching the sunset from Thor’s beach or lying under the stars pointing out the constellations, wishing on falling stars or watching the northern lights.  He thought about having meals with her in the Great Hall, his arm pressed against hers.  He abandoned those thoughts with a groan.  It seemed like his fantasies would never become reality.

Hiccup’s thoughts drifted to their earlier days, playing as young children.  These games would often end with them wrestling on the ground in complete abandon, giggling as they tickled one another and finally lying side by side on the ground laughing.  The games were always Viking versus Dragon, with Hiccup usually ending up as the dragon.  Thinking of these games made him resolve one thing:  There would always be a Hiccup and Astrid.  Always.  Whatever she wanted that to mean.  Even if it only meant being her friend and weapons maintainer.  For her, he would always go the extra league even if it gained him nothing more than the occasional smile.  Beyond that, what chance did he actually have with her?  He was Hiccup, renowned screwup in the eyes of Berk.  She was Astrid, Shield Maiden extraordinaire, the beautiful Pride of Berk.

As he thought about that, he realized that lately something had been off with Astrid, as if something was troubling her.  Hiccup wondered what was bothering her.  From where he stood, everything in her life seemed to be perfect.  Exactly what she wanted it to be.  But then, a snippet of conversation that he had overheard from some of the women on Wash Day as he had wandered by came to mind.  Something about her parents wanting her to marry.  Was that true?  Hiccup knew that marrying would devastate Astrid.  Given the chance, he’d marry her in a heartbeat if his Dad would come up with the bride price.  But there was no way that Astrid would ever agree to that, was there?

As he continued to mull over this dilemma, the sun continued to rise.  Hiccup had rarely been in the cove this early, and a sound that he had effectively tuned out caught his attention…running water.  He had been so lost in his thoughts, oblivious to everything else, that he had failed to notice the sounds.  On the far side of the cove, in sunlight, was a waterfall.  It had rained heavily for the past several days, including several thunderstorms, which meant no dragon attacks.  This waterfall was rather vigorous, obviously runoff from the rain.  While Hiccup had seen it before, it was generally just a gentle trickle, or didn’t run at all.  Hiccup had never been to the cove after prolonged rains.  He had wondered where the lake’s water came from and why it never varied much in depth.  Possibly it was fed by a spring beneath the lake, but with that, and now the vigorous runoff, why was the water level staying the same?

As he thought about this mystery, Hiccup carefully scanned around the cove.  Then he noticed a stream exiting the lake towards a wall of the cove still in deep shadow.  This was something that had never been present in his visits to the cove.  Was there another pond over there, not visible from the cove entrance?

Hiccup got up and walked toward the stream.  He followed it away from the lake, and then stopped suddenly.  It was going into a large opening hidden deep in the shadows of a crease in the cove wall.  Why had he never noticed that in the past, he wondered.  It was a cave, and a rather large one at that.  The entrance was at least eight feet tall and six feet wide.  With the vegetation around it, plus being set deep in a cove wall alcove, it was nearly invisible unless one was right next to it or the sunlight was from just the right angle.

“That’s really odd,” he thought.  Up until now, there were no known caves on Berk above sea level.  There were several sea caves around the island which always flooded at high tide.  He studied the entrance.  This was a different kind of stone from the normal lava rock of the volcanic island.  The walls of the entrance were largely smooth, with a jumble of breakdown rocks on the entrance floor.  Some short, stout, sharp looking stalactites hung from the cave ceiling just inside the entrance along with a number of thin fragile looking soda straw stalactites.  Near the one side was a stone curtain which looked for all the world like a giant strip of bacon.  All in all, a fascinating find.

“I wonder where that goes, ” he thought.  He’d check out the entrance, but not go in since he didn’t have a torch for light.  The urge to explore the cave became nearly irresistible.  Carefully walking towards the entrance, he suddenly heard a small crunch underfoot.  He froze and looked down.  There were what looked like black dragon scales littering the cove floor near the cave mouth. 

“What the Hel?” he muttered and bent over, picked up a handful of scales and examined them.  They were dragon scales!  And judging by the color, they could only come from one dragon…a Night Fury!  Could there be a Night Fury living in the cove?  If so, why had he never seen it?  He’d been to the cove countless times over the years.  And if a Night Fury did live in the cove, why had he never been attacked?  Absently, he shoved the scales into a pocket in his tunic.

At that moment, he could swear that he heard a low growl coming from the cave.  Peering into the darkness, he saw what looked like two luminous green eyes staring at him.  Could it be?  And him only with a dagger to face the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself!

If this was really a Night Fury in its lair, why hadn’t he already been attacked?  Didn’t dragons always, ALWAYS go for the kill?  The Book of Dragons said, “Never engage this dragon.  Hide and pray it doesn’t find you.”  Well, he was found and there was no way to hide, now was there?

Just as Hiccup finished that thought he heard another low growl.  He needed more information but staying where he was suddenly seemed very unhealthy.  Maybe, if he was careful, he could avoid provoking the dragon and escape with his life.  At that point, a picture appeared in his mind, a picture of himself backing away from the cave entrance.  Shaking his head, he wondered where that had come from.  Slowly, Hiccup backed away from the cave, keeping an eye on the entrance.  No sudden moves…  He’d learned that working with Mulch and Bucket’s livestock.  Maybe that would work here and he’d live to see another day.

Slowly, he backtracked, keeping a wary eye on the cave area and glancing to the side only occasionally to make sure he didn’t run into anything as he slowly made his way backwards to the cove entrance.  Still no attack.  His back hit the cove wall.  He was at the entrance.  No choice now, he had to turn his back to climb out of the cove.  He finally made it to the top of the cove wall, and the tension of his narrow escape caught up with him.

Hiccup turned to face back into the cove and sat with a boneless thud as his muscles all seemed to turn to mush at once.  At least he hadn’t fainted.  As his mind settled, he looked back into the cove and tried to spot the cave.  No luck, even though he knew where it should be. 

A Night Fury lived in the cove!  That could solve all his problems!  But how could he corner and kill it?  Did he even want to try to kill the dragon?  He doubted that he could.  And even if he did, how could he get the head out of the cove?  He wanted to keep the cove his secret and do this on his own.  Even if he succeeded, the others would probably think that he’d simply found one that had been killed by other dragons or had died of illness.  No, killing a Night Fury no longer seemed to be the solution to his problems.  He couldn’t kill the dragon.  He wouldn’t kill a dragon!

He kept staring into the cove, becoming lost in thought.  And under it all was one nagging, persistent thought.  “ Why was he still alive???”

Chapter Text

The Night Fury dozed lightly near the entrance to his cave.  It was getting close to dawn, time for him to catch some breakfast from the fish in the lake.  He was known to his fellow dragons as Night Stalker.  A young dragon, only 19 years old, he had already perfected his attack skills on the Vikings of Berk.  He defended the dragons of the Queen who raided the Vikings to feed her voracious appetite.  Failure of any dragon to provide a large enough portion for the Queen’s meal meant becoming the portion instead.  That is, except for the Night Fury.  His role was escort, to defend the raiding dragons from the Vikings’ large weapons.

The queen was an enormous dragon, as tall as a small mountain.  She seemingly never left the volcano on Dragon Island that was her home.  Night Stalker had only ever seen her head and upper body.  He didn’t even know if she had wings.  But she was huge.  Her eyes were as large as a tall human.

The whole situation with the Queen bothered him, which was why he was in the cave rather than back on Dragon Island.  He had found the cave over a year earlier, using it as a place to rest after a particularly tiring raid.  The Queen hadn’t seemed to mind his rest, keeping mental tabs on him. 

After resting, he spent some time exploring the cave before heading back to Dragon Island.  He was thinking that it could be used as a staging area for attacks on the Vikings.  It would allow the raiders a place to rest, out of sight, before attacking the village.

As he explored the large cave, he noticed that in certain places, the Queen’s mental contact seemed to fade away.  He decided that something in the rocks above the cave provided enough shielding from the Queen’s mind control that he might avoid being enslaved by her thoughts.  He had also noticed that the distance from Dragon Island weakened the strength of the Queen’s telepathic signal.

This gave him an idea.  Maybe he could use the cave as a way to break the Queen’s control over him.  He buried that thought deep.  All dragons had some telepathic ability.  Night Furies had a very strong telepathic ability, but the Queen was by far the most powerful telepath, using her abilities to enslave other dragons to do her bidding.

To test his theory, he began taking refuge in the cave after an attack and managed to avoid being drawn into some raids.  He would go back after a time, using the excuse that he needed to rest.  Gradually, he lengthened his stays, hoping that the Queen wouldn’t notice.

In time, he had enlisted four other dragons to his cause, hoping to build some sort of resistance to the Queen, maybe even have them as leaders in an all-out rebellion.  These dragons had taken refuge in four other caves linked to the cove:  A blue and gold Deadly Nadder named Stormfly, a brown Gronkle named Crusher, a Zippleback named Spew and Spark and a reddish Monstrous Nightmare named Firestorm.  All had become friends of Night Stalker and had sought refuge in the Raven Point Caves for the same reason.  Three years earlier, the four had escaped from Berk’s dragon training arena following several lucky shots from Nadders and Night Stalker, all made at the direction of the Queen.  She didn’t like her minions to be at the mercy of the Vikings.  Unknown to the Queen, their long captivity had made them less vulnerable to her mind control.

The caves all connected from the cove to the cliffs next to the sea.  Some of the seaside openings were natural, and some had been opened by some cooperative Whispering Deaths.  These seaside entrances meant that they could skim around the island low over the sea and enter their sanctuaries without being seen by the native Vikings.

What the Night Fury and the others couldn’t know was that the lava flows overlaying the caves were exceptionally rich with veins of native copper metal interwoven through the cracks in the rock.  The metal was what provided the shielding (1).  If there had been enough of the copper, they would have been completely shielded from the Queen’s mind control.

Unfortunately, hiding in the cave didn’t always protect him from the Queen’s control.  On those days, he and the others would end up back at Dragon Island or taking part in the raids on Berk.  Why this was, Night Stalker had no idea.  Perhaps the shielding in some of the areas of the caves was better than others.  He made a mental note to check this out, knowing that he was risking coming under the Queen’s control again.  Her influence was nibbling at his mind at the moment, seeming to grow in strength over the past few days.  The weather had been stormy, which prevented raids.  Surely the Queen was growing hungry.  Maybe she got stronger when she was hungry.  And maybe the storms interfered with the mind control.

It was a wonder that he and his friends hadn’t been killed by the Vikings, given the number of raids that the Queen had forced them to make.  Night Stalker thought about all the dragons that had been killed by the Vikings on their raids.  They were protecting themselves and their food, after all, he thought.  If we didn’t attack them, maybe they wouldn’t kill us.  But how would it be possible to break the Queen’s control of her dragon horde and stop the attacks?  If that could be done, could Viking and dragon live in peace?  But how?  No answer came to mind.

Part of what troubled Night Stalker was the growing number of his fellow dragons who had been eaten by the Queen.  If weather prevented raids on the Vikings, she sometimes would simply eat some of the dragons in her lair.  They seemed to be unable to break her siren call and were drawn to their deaths in her jaws.  And in her mind, she could always lure more in.  She really didn’t care if her slaves lived or died so long as they did her bidding.

The light of early dawn began to penetrate the cove.  Night Stalker rose, stretched, and started walking towards the cave entrance to catch his breakfast.  There were fish in the little lake, and they were easy to catch.  He didn’t want to try ocean fishing using the sea entrance, since that would expose him to more direct mind control and a flight back to Dragon Island.

Suddenly, he froze, and carefully laid back down.  That little Viking was in the cove again!  And what was he doing there so early?  The Night Fury was familiar with the boy visiting the cove, having seen him visit many times.  But he’d never shown up this early before.

Night Stalker enjoyed watching the young Viking from the security of his cave.  He had a special rock that he often sat on motionless for hours, lost in thought.  Sometimes he would toss small stones into the lake or skip flat ones across it.  But most often he’d just sit on the rock.  He was the only Viking that the Night Fury had ever seen in the cove.  After a time it had become obvious that this was the boy’s secret place.

Curious, Night Stalker had reached out with his mind to see the boy’s thoughts.  He didn’t understand Norse, but he could see the pictures that formed in his mind.  He was disturbed by the images of what looked like weapons to fight dragons but got the sense that none of them had worked.  Still, there were quite a lot of images of Vikings fighting and killing dragons.  Another image disturbed him even more, a dark shape blotting out the stars and shooting a plasma ball to destroy a catapult.  This Viking had seen him!  Or at least his silhouette.

Most often, however, the pictures in the boy’s mind were of a female Viking with long yellow hair.  Was this his mate?  Or did he want her to be his mate?  Night Stalker could also sense emotions.  The boy’s emotions were often sad or yearning when the female’s image was in his head.  He could identify a name with the picture in the boy’s mind:  Astrid.

Those images and emotions often saddened the Night Fury.  Since he had come of age, he had not encountered a female Night Fury.  He yearned to find a mate of his own.  But rumors had spread amongst the dragons that a particularly nasty human was hunting and killing every Night Fury that he could find.  Night Stalker was beginning to wonder if he was the last of his kind.  He hadn’t encountered or even heard of another Night Fury now for more than four years.

At that point another thought entered his mind.  Night Stalker had noticed that as he grew older, his telepathic strength seemed to be growing.  He was beginning to have an easier time blocking the Queen’s thoughts and mind control.  Could it be that the Queen herself was killing off older Night Furies before they became strong enough to challenge her?  Could a Night Fury become strong enough to lead a rebellion against the Queen?  Surely she could not fend off a massed dragon attack.  Night Stalker buried that thought deep.  Should the Queen discover it, he could be next on the menu.

Putting those thoughts out of his mind, the Night Fury concentrated on the boy’s thoughts once more.  They had shifted to the female again, although a nasty looking weapon also appeared in the images.  Could she be a warrior, and a danger to dragons?  That would be bad.

Suddenly the boy’s thoughts shifted again and the image of a waterfall appeared in his mind.  “ Uh, oh.”  Night Stalker thought.   “This isn’t good. ”  The Night Fury watched as the boy scanned the cove, with the image of the lake, and then the stream which was entering his cave, appearing in the boy’s thoughts.  The Viking rose and walked toward the stream, and then followed it towards Night Stalker’s cave.  “ This is bad ,” he thought.  “ I really don’t want to have to kill him to keep my secret.  I enjoy watching him too much, and maybe learning something about our enemy.”

As the Viking approached the cave, Night Stalker sensed images of the boy entering the cave with a long stick with a fiery ball on the end.  Something he clearly didn’t have.  But there was an excitement there, an urge to enter the cave at a later time.  Then he heard a crunch, and watched the boy stop, bend over and pick up something.  The image of Night Fury scales appeared in his mind.  Then an image of the ground littered with Night Fury scales.  He’d been found!  Without thinking, he emitted a low growl.

Now the image of two green eyes appeared in the boy’s mind.  Night Stalker’s eyes.  This was getting worse and worse.  What to do?  If he blasted the boy, he might be missed, and more Vikings might come and discover him!  He would at least lose his sanctuary.  He didn’t move, undecided as to what to do.  The boy was carrying a small weapon on his belt but had not reached for it.  He sensed a mixture of fear, curiosity and finally confusion in the boy’s emotions.  Night Stalker growled softly again, this time on purpose.  Maybe the boy would leave and keep the secret.  He tried to project a picture of the boy backing away from his cave into the skinny Viking’s mind and wondered if it would work.

Then, the boy slowly started to back away, slowly making his way back to where he had entered the cove.  Interesting.  It seemed as if the boy had received Night Stalker’s projected thought.  Could the boy really be receptive to Night Stalker’s thoughts?  As the boy backed away, the Night Fury continued to sense pictures of keeping animals calm, not provoking them.  This was curious.  Then the boy reached the entry point, turned, climbed to the inland rim of the cove, turned and sat.

Confused images appeared in the boy’s mind.  Images of killing and beheading Night Stalker.  Images of other Vikings congratulating him.  Images of the female hugging him.  Images of him failing to get Night Stalker’s head out of the cove.  Thoughts of failure to kill the dragon.  A desire to keep the cove a secret.  Wondering why he hadn’t been killed?  It would be easy enough to blast the boy from here.  Should he do it?

Chapter Text

Like Hiccup, Astrid Hofferson had awakened early in the morning after a fitful sleep.  It wasn’t a snoring parent that woke her, though.  A nightmare had awakened her, instead.  A dream of being tied to a husband doing nothing but maintaining the household and having babies.  In the dream, her Shield Maiden days were far in the past, gone forever, and she was forbidden to fight.

Rolling over and groaning in exasperation, she tried to go back to sleep without success.  After some tossing and turning, she decided that there was no going back to sleep.  Maybe she could get some night training in.  She tossed back her blankets and swung her legs out of the bed.  She was nearly fully dressed, a precaution against dragon raids.  She only needed to pull on her studded skirt, boots and pauldrons.  Grabbing the Thor-damned armory axe, she climbed the ladder to the roof hatch above her room, exited the house and descended to the ground before heading to the forest.  She smiled as she saw the light of the three quarters waning moon.

“Great!”  she thought.  “Nice light for night training in my favorite spot.”   Astrid had located a spot in the forest not too far from the forest’s edge with widely spaced, large trees years earlier.  She had cleared the undergrowth and other tripping hazards, giving herself an area where she could swing or throw an axe, practice tumbling and dodging, and generally hone her skills.  She reached the spot quickly and began her workout routine with some stretches to limber up, and then started axe practice.  Feeling grouchy, she knew that a lot of trees were going to be hurt tonight.  Her low war cries echoed through the forest.  A low volume was needed to avoid waking other villagers and keep her spot a secret.

As Astrid went through her routine, tumbling, dodging and flinging the axe at various trees, she grudgingly acknowledged that Hiccup had a point about training with other weapons.  Over the few days that he’d had her axe, she had gotten better with the loaner axe.  She hoped it would not make transitioning back to her axe a problem.  After about three quarters of an hour, judging by the moon’s position, Astrid decided that she had trained enough and sat on a fallen log at the edge of her training area to rest and think.

As she rested on the log, her thoughts drifted to the nightmare and its cause.  Her parents were becoming more and more insistent that she marry.  They were even threatening to marry her off to an heir from another tribe.  One suggestion that her father Hakon had made was Thuggory, heir to the Meathead tribe, or Dagur of the Berserkers, who had become chief under suspicious circumstances.  Marrying an heir would mean leaving her family and Berk, something that she didn’t want to do even though marriage to another tribe’s heir would be advantageous to Berk and fetch a handsome bride price for her parents.  She couldn’t imagine being wed to Dagur, who was totally deranged, or Thuggory, whose name fit him perfectly.  She would probably kill either of them if they didn’t kill her first for failing to submit to their wishes.  She had met both heirs when a Thing was held on Berk.  Both had crudely flirted with her when they weren’t occupied by heir business, much to her disgust.

As for the young men in her tribe, they were already pairing up.  After years of flirting which only repulsed her, Snotlout Jorgenson had finally lost interest in her and paired up with, strangely enough, Ruffnut Thorston.  That pairing baffled her.  How in the world did Snotlout manage to hook crazy Ruffnut, particularly after she had once buried him alive?  Husky Fishlegs Ingerman had a long-distance romance going with Heather, a raven-haired, green-eyed beauty who lived with the Peaceables Tribe with her adoptive parents.  Heather’s true parentage was unknown.  Astrid and Heather had become close over the years.  Astrid had some suspicion that Heather might be Dagur’s missing sister.  They had similar eyes, and Astrid had overheard Stoick commenting that the carved horn that Heather always carried looked like the one he had given Oswald the Agreeable for the birth of Dagur’s baby sister.  If that were true, she fervently hoped that Dagur never found out. 

Then there were Tuffnut Thorston, Ruffnut’s fraternal twin, and Camicazi of the Bog Burglars.  Talk about pairing two pranksters!  None had married yet, but it was only a matter of time.  Then there was Dogsbreath, who was a bit older.  His name was truly fitting.  His breath would probably kill a dragon at twenty paces.  He was another true young Viking, vile, arrogant, someone who would never even consider the wishes of someone like her.  Only the shallowest of the Berkian girls, all younger, had the slightest interest in him, all of them swooning over large muscles.

That left Hiccup Haddock.  The village screw-up and the only other Hooligan boy her age.  She sighed softly as she thought about Hiccup.  Despite her firm intentions to remain a single Shield Maiden, she did have a soft spot in her heart for Hiccup.  When they were very young they’d been best friends, often playing together.  Their favorite game had been “Shield Maiden versus the Night Fury.”  Of course, Hiccup was the Night Fury.  He would use his arms as wings and make the signature whistling sound of the Night Fury and pretend to fly over the village while Astrid protected the village with a stick that was supposed to be a sword or an axe.  Once she had actually hit him hard with her pretend weapon, but he hadn’t minded.  Their games often ended with a tussle and tickling match, laughing with abandon, finally ending with them lying side by side on the ground silently enjoying each other’s company.

They had started to drift apart after Astrid’s Uncle Finn had been killed by a Flightmare.  Known as Fearless Finn Hofferson, he had apparently been frozen in fear of the Flightmare before it killed him.  That had started Astrid on a serious quest to become the best Shield Maiden on Midgard to fight the Flightmare and reclaim the family honor that had been lost with Finn’s death.  Her parents noticed the change in Astrid following Finn’s death.  She became more serious, training with a fierce resolve with her childish weapons.  That fiery resolve led to them commissioning Gobber to make her beloved axe. But, her single-minded resolve began to worry them as the years passed.  In the past two years, they had started to urge her to settle down and have a family as she grew more and more restless with the state of the Hofferson honor.

At about the same time, Hiccup had been apprenticed to Gobber at the forge, giving them even less time together.  She fingered her loaned axe as she thought of the countless times she’d gone by the forge and watched Hiccup working, often struggling with heavy iron tools or weapons when he was younger.  She thought about her beloved axe.  Hiccup didn’t know it, but Gobber had let it slip that Hiccup had made the axe and that he had poured his heart and soul into making it.  She smiled softly at that thought.  He’d done that for her, even though her father had ordered it assuming that Gobber would make it.  It fit her perfectly.  She couldn’t fathom how Hiccup had made that happen.

Hiccup had crafted other gifts for her as well over the years.  One of the daggers he had made for her, with small red stones embedded in the brass handle, was a constant companion, sheathed in her belt.  She was wearing the Nightmare scale necklace he had made for her under her tunic, and often wore the Nadder scale bracelet he had crafted.  No one else knew that Hiccup had made them, thinking that they were gifts from her parents.

She’d often seen him watching her with a dreamy expression on his face when he thought that she wasn’t looking.  It had happened often, particularly when she was on the fire brigade and he was stuck in the forge’s hatch watching his peers fighting the fires that the dragons set.

Astrid had seen some of the crazy weapons that Hiccup had built before Bucket was assigned to keep him in the forge during raids.  Most might have worked, she thought, if properly developed.  In particular, she liked the idea of the giant waterbag slingshot.  Having had to fight fires so often, she realized that it could have been used from the central water trough locations to fight fires all over the village.  A full battery of the launchers could have been much more effective in firefighting than the bucket brigades.  But, as with all of his other inventions, it had been poorly employed and ordered destroyed by his father.  Sadly, Hiccup’s inventions had caused much damage to the village and virtually none to any dragons.

Dragon training had been an absolute disaster for Hiccup.  Astrid winced at the memory of how close he’d come to being killed on multiple occasions during the training before he was finally dropped.  It seemed as if he’d had no weapons training at all, she thought glumly.  Why had Stoick even let him enter dragon training?  Another mystery.  And Stoick hadn’t even been there to help or encourage him, off on yet another expedition to Helheim’s Gate in another futile attempt to locate the dragons’ nest.

Yet, despite his clumsiness in Dragon Training, she was sure that he had courage.  The fact that he kept trying new weapons in the face of his father’s wrath was evidence of that.  Then there was the Flightmare incident not long after Dragon Training was finished.  Aurvandil’s Fire had returned to Berk, and along with it, the Flightmare.  Astrid had gone out alone to fight the dragon and restore the Hofferson honor which had been hurt when her Uncle Finn had apparently been frozen in fear of the Flightmare, resulting in his death.  Hiccup had followed her, and when the Flightmare had immobilized her, too, he had tackled her, preventing the Flightmare from grabbing her, and had dragged her to safety.  Hiccup realized that somehow, it was the mist that had paralyzed her.  Although this information would have proven that Finn had not been frozen by fear, Astrid was ashamed of what had happened and made Hiccup keep the rescue a secret from the rest of the tribe.  Thus, Finn’s reputation, and that of the Hoffersons, remained tarnished. Now she wished that she hadn’t done that, both for her family’s reputation and in light of all the abuse that Hiccup continued to receive.

Thinking about the Flightmare incident triggered a vague memory.  She recalled Hiccup trying to scrape as much of the gooey coating of Flightmare mist as he could off of her exposed skin and her clothes as she lay paralyzed on the ground under a large tree.  The mist had soaked her head to toe.  She seemed to recall that he collected the thick liquid in a pouch that he had with him and had complained about it making his hands numb.  “I wonder if he saved that mist?” she idly mused.  “If he did, maybe we could use it to prove that Uncle Finn wasn’t frozen by fear and reclaim my family’s honor.  But I’ll bet it’s long gone.”

Her thoughts drifted to the conversations that they had had recently at the forge when he was working on her axe or some of the other Hofferson weapons.  He always seemed friendly, genuinely enjoying spending a little time with her.  And yet, there was a reserve to his interactions with her as well, almost as if he was a little afraid of her.  She hadn’t failed to notice that Hiccup had finally hit a growth spurt and had filled out, if only a little.  He now handled the heavy iron and steel at the forge with relative ease, hinting at more muscle hidden under his clothing than he’d had at fifteen during dragon training.  He had developed a strong, angular chin as well with his growth spurt.  She couldn’t fail to notice how his emerald green eyes sparkled when she was there.  Those eyes…she thought with a sigh.  All in all, he was pretty easy on the eyes.

Hiccup had changed after Bucket was assigned to guard him in the forge.  The fire seemed to have gone out of him.  He went about his duties in the forge with precision, but he seemed to take no joy in the work.  He had no friends amongst the teens.  He took their taunts stoically, not even bothering to snark back at his tormentors like he had before being trapped in the forge.  Only once had he shown any of his old fire; the time he’d decked Snotlout with a single hard left.  Tuffnut had dubbed his fist “Thor’s Mighty Hammer” after the incident.   She realized with a start that Snotlout’s crude comment about her had caused Hiccup to punch him out.  On further thought, she realized that she had been mostly ignoring him as well.

She’d seen him practicing with a sword in the forge when he thought no one was looking, sparring with an imaginary enemy.  Astrid had noted that Hiccup had a growing skill with the sword, and sometimes thought that she might be able to help him train.  Certainly no one else was helping him, and his father had never seemed to bother with any training at all.  He was certainly intelligent; his crazy weapon designs proved that.  He was just a little impulsive, always trying things before they were ready.  He had become a truly skilled blacksmith.  The weapons that he crafted were always impeccably done.  Yet despite that obvious skill, he was modest to the point of shyness.  None of the other Hooligans, save Gobber and herself, seemed to value his work.  They simply berated him, calling him too slow, dismissing his work no matter how good it was, still thinking him to be the clumsy screwup that he’d been when he was younger.

She had to admit that Hiccup was the only boy that she found even mildly interesting.  He was kind of attractive in his own dorky way.  When he smiled at her when she was at the forge, his smile lit up the room.  It seemed obvious to Astrid that Hiccup had feelings for her, despite how hard he tried to hide them.  A plan started to form in Astrid’s mind. What if she spent more time with Hiccup?  He was the only remaining eligible boy her age in the village.  If she started spending time with him, maybe her parents would back off.  He surely would not hinder her quest to become the best Shield Maiden ever, he was too sensitive to do that.  And, despite being the village pariah, he was still the Chief’s son and Heir to the chiefdom.  Surely her parents could see that he wasn’t a terrible option by any means.  Maybe they could become close friends again and deflect her parent’s matchmaking away from her while she stayed a single Shield Maiden.  Add in a few touches here and there and it could look like a courtship.  Surely her folks remembered how close they’d been when they were little.  It wouldn't take much for them, and the whole village for that matter, to jump to conclusions about her and Hiccup.

And it would be nice to reestablish the friendship that they had when they were little.  She really didn’t have any close friends except maybe for Ruffnut. But, given the time that she was spending with Snotlout, they had drifted apart.  Maybe she could volunteer to help him with his sword training?  What other ways could she spend more time with him?  But how to get around the problem of spending time with the village outcast?  Surely that would hurt her social standing in the village. Then again, why did she care?  If her own parents were so dead set on marrying her off to someone from another island, surely the rest of Berk wouldn't lift a finger to keep her there.    

Maybe she should just talk to Hiccup about it.  Yes, that was what she would do!  Astrid resolved to talk to Hiccup about her problem as soon as she had an opportunity.  She would ask him if he would pretend with her to be a couple. They could begin to show signs of affection, like holding hands and spending time together.  They could have their meals together.  That would certainly draw attention, since Hiccup normally ate alone.  Surely he would help her, if for no other reason than to keep her on Berk.   She hoped that she could avoid hurting him in the end, given his obvious affection for her.

As Astrid pondered these thoughts, she heard the small snap of a twig breaking nearby.  Instantly on alert, she grabbed up the axe and swung in the direction of the snap in a defensive stance.  It could be a wild boar, and she surely didn’t want to be attacked by one of those vicious beasts.

Instead, she saw a tall, slender figure moving quickly down a nearby trail, concentrating on his path.  She recognized the figure instantly in the moonlight.  What was Hiccup doing in the woods this early in the day?  Where was he going?  Intrigued, Astrid quickly and stealthily followed Hiccup.  She lost sight of him a couple of times but was able to spot his tracks in the soft earth of the trail in the moonlight.  After all, one can’t be a Shield Maiden without being an expert tracker.  But he disappeared from sight again and she slowed, trying to figure out where he’d vanished to.

Moving forward slowly, Astrid tried to find the trail again, then stopped suddenly when she came to the edge of a cliff.  Where did this come from?  She’d never seen this place.  She was looking into a cove which was apparently unknown to the rest of the tribe.  She looked down into the cove, and in the dawn’s early light she spotted Hiccup move towards a large rock next to the pond and take a seat.  She sat down at the rim to watch what he was doing.  But, for the next hour or so, he just sat there, apparently lost in thought.  He barely moved during that time, just resting his chin in his hands and looking somewhat dejected.  What could he be thinking about?

Astrid noticed that the sun had begun to rise and illuminate the cove.  Hiccup still hadn’t moved.  “I’d better get back,” she thought, and just as she rose to leave, she saw Hiccup look to one side of the cove, scan towards himself, then climb down off the rock and start to move along the pond’s edge.

“What is he doing ?” she thought.  “ It looks as if he has spotted something.”

She watched as Hiccup continued to carefully move along the pond’s edge, and then turn towards the far wall.  He continued to move slowly, then suddenly stopped as he neared the wall.  He then took another step, stopped suddenly, bent, and picked up something which he examined intently, stuffing it in a pocket after a few seconds.  Then he stiffened and stood frozen in place for several moments.

Hiccup then started to slowly, carefully back away from where he’d been.  What was he doing?  What had he spotted?  Was there something dangerous in the shadows at that end of the cove?  Amazingly, he didn’t seem to be frightened.  It seemed more like he was just edging away from something that he thought was dangerous and was trying not to be seen by it.  She continued to watch as he carefully made his way backwards around the pond’s edge and then disappeared from sight under the near rim of the cove.

She decided to move along the cove rim to a sheltered spot away from where she thought he might exit from the cove and ducked behind some cover.  Soon she saw his head emerge from a cleft in the rock and watched as he topped the rim, turned and slumped to sit at the rim staring back at where he’d been.  What was going on?  She could see enough of his face to recognize confusion and just a little fear in his expression.  After watching him for several minutes, Astrid had had enough.  She rose and quietly walked to where he was sitting.  As she neared him, she carefully made some soft noises so as not to startle him and cause him to fall into the cove.

Hiccup heard the noise and looked to his right, spotting Astrid, the loaner axe in its holster on her back.

“A-Astrid?”  he stammered quietly.  “W-What are you doing here?”

Chapter Text

Why am I still alive???   The question rattled around Hiccup’s brain again and again.  If that was a Night Fury in the cave, why hadn’t it attacked him?  He set aside for a moment his thoughts of earning glory by killing the beast.  Other questions began to swirl in his mind.  Could there be more to dragons than anyone imagined?  Could Vikings and dragons coexist and end this costly bloody war?  Why did dragons attack the village?  Why did they mostly make off with livestock and fish?  Dragons had killed hundreds of Vikings over the three hundred years that Berk had existed.  Berkians had likely killed thousands of dragons.  The hides, teeth, claws and scales were all valuable trade items, and more often than not dragon meat had helped to sustain the village.  But this could not go on forever.  Despite everything, the population of Berk was slowly declining.

Was that cave the Night Fury’s home?  Or was it just a temporary lair?  In either case, the number of scales near the entrance suggested that the dragon had been there many times.  How many years had it been coming there?  Why had he never seen any evidence that a dragon was staying in the cove that he visited so frequently?  And what was that odd picture that had appeared in his mind when he was in front of the cave?  So many questions that needed answers…

The urge to investigate the cave grew in his mind.  What if there was a way to befriend a dragon?  Was that even possible?  If he could learn more about dragons than what was in The Book of Dragons , basically what dangers they posed and “Extremely Dangerous. Kill on Sight,” maybe he could learn if they were more than ravenous killing machines. Maybe find out why they attacked Berk, and maybe find a way to stop the attacks and end the war if they possessed any intelligence.  The fact that he’d been spared suggested that there was more to dragons than met the eye.

 “ Screw the danger,” he thought.  “ I’m going to find a way to explore that cave.  If I meet the dragon, the worst that could happen is that it would kill me.  What do I really have to lose?  It’s not as if anyone in the village would miss the Berk screwup.  Not even my father.  Well, maybe Gobber would, given that he would be shouldering the full load at the forge again.  But I should finish Astrid’s axes before I do.  I don’t want that job undone.  Maybe she’d miss me, just a little.”

Meanwhile, Night Stalker continued to watch the confused swirl of images in the boy’s mind.  It seemed as if the hatchling’s point of view was changing.  A dangerous idea began to nibble at the edge of his mind.  Then, he sensed a second presence, a possible complication.

At that moment, Hiccup heard a slight scraping noise to his right.  Slowly turning, he looked up into Astrid’s glorious blue eyes.  “A-Astrid?”  he said quietly.  “W-What are you doing here?”

Astrid stopped and sat down next to him, keeping some distance between them.  “Watching you,” she replied.

“Watching me?  Why would you want to watch me?  How did you follow me here?  What are you even doing out here at this time of morning?” he asked.

“I was out early to do some night axe training with the loaner axe like you suggested,” she replied.  “I’d finished my workout and was sitting in my training area, thinking, when I heard a noise and saw you sneak by in the woods nearby.  You are actually pretty stealthy.  If I hadn’t heard you snap a twig, I wouldn’t have even noticed you.  And the soft ground made you easy to track in the moonlight when I lost sight of you.”

Hiccup totally missed the compliment in her statement, such was the depth of his depression.  “Thinking, huh?  That’s what I come here to do.  You know, trying to think of ways to escape being the village screwup,” he said with a sigh.

Then he realized what Astrid had just said.  “What could you possibly need to think about in the woods in the middle of the night?” Hiccup snorted.  “From where I sit, your life looks pretty much perfect: Shield Maiden, Berk’s best warrior of our generation, winner of dragon training, training the youngsters to use weapons and fight dragons.  Why would you even bother to follow me into the woods, except maybe to ask why I’ve had your axe for so long?” he concluded with a bitter tone.

Astrid heard despair in Hiccup’s last statements.  Did he really think that her life was perfect?  Did he really think so little of himself that all he was good for was sharpening things?  Didn’t he realize that he’d actually made most of the village’s weapons recently?  That he’d surpassed his mentor in many ways in the forging of Berk’s arsenal.  Sure, he’d never lived down his reputation as the village screw up, but really?  Then she thought about the harassment that she saw him take at the forge, in the Great Hall, and elsewhere on a daily basis.

“Well, I was curious about what you were doing out here so early in the morning.”  Seeing that this seemed to be a sensitive topic, she decided to change the subject.

“How did you find this place?” Astrid asked, her expression shifting to show genuine interest.  “As far as I know, no one else knows about it.  I certainly didn’t, and I’ve done a lot of exploring on the island.  It’s so secluded.”

“I’ve been coming here for years,” Hiccup replied.  “I found it by accident when I was 13.  I was wandering in the woods to stay away from Snotlout and the twins, and nearly walked right off the edge.

I’ve walked all around the cove rim.  This is very nearly at the tip of Raven Point.  I don’t know of anyone who has even bothered with this area.  I think that they’re afraid of it.  Some think that it is haunted, and no one really wants to come here at night.  You know, gnomes and trolls.”  He gave a small, lop-sided smile after that statement.  “Never seen any myself.  I guess my name scares them away.  Of course, there are wild boars in the area and they can be pretty nasty.  One of them treed me for hours a couple of years ago.”

“You must have a lot on your mind, given how long that I watched you sit on that rock,” Astrid noted.  “But then I saw you get up and walk towards the cove wall.  You looked like you’d found something that you’d never seen even though you’ve been coming here for years.  What did you find?”

Hiccup thought for a moment before replying.  He saw a keen interest in her eyes.  His secret was out, but how much should he tell her?

“I found a cave,” he said finally.  “This is the first time that I’ve been in the cove before dawn, and I’ve never been here after several days of heavy rain.  There’s a waterfall that was never there before, and a stream that looks like it drains from the pond into the cave.”

“Okay, but I saw you bend over and pick something up.”  Astrid looked him in the eye as if daring him to lie, and then glanced towards where he had been staring at the cove wall.  “Then you backed away like something in the cave frightened you.  Just what is going on, Hiccup?”

Hiccup was taken aback by her comments.  She’d seen everything.  What to do?  Should he share his suspicions?  Then it occurred to him that going into the cave alone might not be the best idea.  A little backup might be good, and who better than the best Shield Maiden on Midgard?  And who knows, maybe a little trust would help rekindle their friendship.

Hiccup took a leap of faith.  “Something in the cave growled at me,” he said, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.  “And I could see two large green eyes glowing in the dark.  Plus, I found these.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of black scales and handed them to Astrid.

Across the cove, Night Stalker was now watching the images in the minds of both young Vikings and trying to understand their words.  He recognized the female as the one the boy thought of often, and recognized an unwavering warrior’s mind.  “She could definitely be a threat,” he thought grimly.

Astrid took the scales and her eyes grew wide as she realized what the scales, as large as a good sized medallion, must be.  “Could these be what I think they are?” she whispered.

“I think so,” Hiccup replied.  “I’ve seen scales all over the village after an attack, and on dragons that were killed.  I’ve never seen black scales, or any dragons with black scales.  They can only belong to a Night Fury.  I’ve seen something block the stars on a clear night when a Night Fury attacks.  And it always attacks from the sea, so it’s unlikely that any scales would be found in the village.”

“Is that what you think is in the cave?” Astrid asked.

“Maybe.  But that’s puzzling.  In all the years that I’ve been coming here, I’ve never seen a dragon in the cove.  And yet, it must come here frequently, because there are a lot of scales in front of that cave.  It has odd formations near the entrance that could scrape them off.  But if that is a dragon, why didn’t it kill me?  Gobber said in training that they always, ALWAYS, go for the kill.  And the Book of Dragons says to never engage this dragon, but to hide instead.  So if that is the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself in the cave, why didn’t it kill me?”

“Maybe it was something else,” Astrid mused.  “Could it be a bear?”

“A bear? As if!” Night Stalker quietly huffed in dragonese upon seeing the image in both minds.

“I don’t see how a bear could get into the cove,”  Hiccup replied.  “I’ve only found one way down, and it’s small.  I doubt that Dad could fit through it, so a bear probably wouldn’t fit.  Besides, there haven’t been any bears on Berk for a couple of generations.  And those eyes were too widely spaced for a bear.  The cave could have a seaside entrance.  A dragon could fly in and out.  But a bear? No.”

“We have to tell your Dad about this,” Astrid stated, a determined look in her eyes.  She started to stand to head back to the village.

Hiccup grabbed her arm, causing Astrid to glare at him.  “No!” he said emphatically.  “He’ll just go in with warriors and kill the dragon.  In that tight space, it’s likely that many of us could die fighting it.  Besides, I want to keep my cove a secret.  I’m planning on coming back with a torch to explore the cave”

“Are you crazy?” Astrid nearly shouted, glaring at Hiccup.  “If there really is a Night Fury in the cave, it will KILL you.”

“Then why didn’t it kill me earlier?  It didn’t seem to be that far back from the entrance.  It could have been on me before I could go a couple of steps.”  Hiccup decided to take the plunge. He started waving his arms as he went on.  

“It got me wondering if dragons aren’t what we think they are.  Wondering if it was possible to tame or befriend one?  I mean, even though I’m trapped in the forge during attacks, I’ve watched the dragons and there seems to be some intelligence behind the raids.  They always go after the food stores and livestock.  They never take any of the grain stocks.  Different dragons seem to have different tasks.  The Gronkles always go for the fish drying racks.  Nadders target the sheep.  Nightmares go after the yaks.  Zipplebacks create diversions and raid the storehouses.  It’s almost as if the houses that they destroy are a diversion.  And the Night Fury only seems to attack our large weapons, like the catapults.  What if they aren’t the mindless beasts that we think they are?” he asked with excitement in his voice.  “What if there is a way to end this war, all of this bloodshed?  I have got to find out.  Maybe I’ll learn something useful.  But, if I get killed, it’s really no great loss to the village.  They’d be glad to be rid of the village screwup.”

Night Stalker’s eyes widened as he saw the images of each dragon species performing their assigned attack roles in the youth’s mind, and then narrowed in intense concentration.  To his knowledge, no other human had figured out the Queen’s attack plan!  That was followed by images of the hatchling seeking him out and a feeling of resignation.

Astrid had watched Hiccup waving his arms with an amused expression during his little rant but her eyes widened and she gasped at the last statement.  Did Hiccup really think that he was that useless?  That he’d willingly give his life just so that the village would be free of him?  Then she thought about how many times she’d heard him being referred to as Hiccup the Useless, or simply Useless.  How often he’d been verbally or physically abused by just about everyone in the village.  If he really felt that hopeless, he had been hiding it very well.

“Hiccup, don’t you realize how valuable you are to the village?” she asked urgently.  “You’re doing more and more work at the forge instead of Gobber.  You’ve made most of the new weapons in the last couple of years.  In some ways, your skill has surpassed Gobber’s.  Hel, I mean you were doing great work even when you made my axe at ten!”

Astrid covered her mouth in shock, realizing what she had just said. Her intent was to steer Hiccup away from his suicidal impulse.  But she’d spilled the beans.  Gobber had told her never to reveal to Hiccup that she knew that he’d made her axe.

Hiccup looked at Astrid with a stunned expression.  “So Gobber let it slip, eh?  No one else, not even my Dad, knew that.  He must have had too much mead and forgot not to tell you.  No one, especially you, was to know that until I decided to reveal the secret.  If I decided to reveal it,” he concluded with a sigh.  Astrid had never let on that she knew.  Why?

“But why, Hiccup?  Why did you want to keep making my axe a secret?  It’s beautiful and fits me like a glove.  I mean, it’s almost as if you measured and weighed me in my sleep, and then figured out who I’d grow to be.”  Her cheeks reddened at the thought.  So did Hiccup’s.

Before Hiccup could reply, loud cries came from overhead.  Hiccup and Astrid both looked up to see a small flock of Terrible Terrors flying over, headed towards the far side of the island around Thor’s Beach.  “Great,” Hiccup muttered.  “What are they doing here?”

In his cave, Night Stalker had been focussed on the two Vikings arguing.  He was beginning to feel the female’s warrior resolve wavering.  Then he felt the presence of the Terrors as they passed overhead.  He reached out with his mind to hear their thoughts, momentarily shifting his focus.  One Terror in particular had noticed the two Vikings at the cove’s rim, prompting memories of captivity, being confronted by young Vikings, and sitting on a Viking boy’s head.  Night Stalker recognized that boy as his young Viking, and gently suggested, mind to mind, that the Terror leave the flock to land near the boy.

Suddenly a Terror detached itself from the flock and spiraled down, landing just to Hiccup’s left.  The Terror was green, with brown markings on its back and brown wings.  It just stood there, staring at Hiccup’s side with a puzzled expression.  It licked its left eye and continued to stare at Hiccup.

“Hiccup, you need to run,” Astrid whispered, slowly standing and reaching for her axe.

“Wait!” Hiccup replied urgently.  “Don’t move.  It’s not acting aggressively.  Let’s wait a couple of minutes and see what it does.”

Astrid froze in mid-motion, then slowly returned to a more relaxed, but still wary, stance.

“Okay.  But I still think that it’s just sizing you up for an attack,” Astrid whispered skeptically.

Both teens watched the Terror cautiously for several minutes.  Hiccup remained seated, as still as a statue, while Astrid squirmed nervously but almost imperceptibly, fingering her axe handle at her back.  The Terror stood stock still, eyeing Hiccup.  It almost seemed as if it was having a staring contest with him.

Hiccup reached a decision.  He quietly mouthed, “Let me try something.  I think I know what this dragon might be after.”  He recalled the Terror which had perched on his helmet in dragon training.  Could it be the same one?  Several Terrors had escaped the training ring around that time.

Cautiously feeding feral cats around the village had earned their trust, and eventually several furry friends.  Practically the only friends that he had.  Was it possible that this dragon had smelled the dried fish in his pouch?  If so, why hadn’t it simply attacked him for the food?  He slowly reached into the pouch on his left side and pulled out a piece of dried salmon.

“Hiccup, what are you doing?” Astrid hissed in disbelief.  Her eyes narrowing, she watched in shock as Hiccup tossed the piece of fish to the Terror, which snapped it out of the air, swallowed it, and looked expectantly at Hiccup.  He pulled the rest of the fish out of the pouch and tossed it to the dragon, saying, “Here you go, little fella.”

The dragon let the pieces of fish land on the ground and eagerly snapped them up.  It looked at Hiccup once more.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t have any more.”  Then he remembered the barley flat cake that he had packed.  He pulled the cake out, broke off a piece, and tossed it to the Terror.

The Terror sniffed the barley cake and, giving Hiccup a disappointed look, kicked the cake piece aside.  Rather than fly away, it walked to his side, sniffed him, sniffed the pouch which had contained the salmon, and then stuck its snout into the open pouch and rooted around for more fish.  Finding none and quietly snorting in disappointment, it curled up next to Hiccup’s leg and started to purr.  On reflex, Hiccup reached down with his left hand and began to absently scratch the Terrible Terror’s head.  It purred louder.

Astrid’s eyes got wider, and her mouth dropped open at the sight.  She couldn’t believe what her eyes were showing her.  Dragons were only good for killing, eating and trade.  They couldn’t be tamed.  And yet here was one, curled up at Hiccup’s side, purring!?!

Night Stalker was also startled at the turn of events.  The Terror curled up against the boy, and neither Viking responded aggressively?  Then again, the female was still radiating hostility.

“Hiccup, what is going on?  I thought that you wanted to be a dragon killer.  And yet, here you are feeding and petting one!  Are you really on their side?  If so, Stoick needs to hear about this.”  Astrid was confused.  Every instinct cried out, “Kill the dragon.  Hiccup is a traitor.”   Despite her eyes showing her something different and wavering in her resolve, she stood to head for the village and report to the chief like a proper Viking.

“Astrid, wait!  Hiccup pleaded.  “You don’t understand.  Don’t you recognize this Terror?”

“Humph!  They all look the same to me.”

“Do you remember the Terrible Terror that perched on my helmet in dragon training?” Hiccup asked.  “You guys all got a great laugh out of that one.  And the fact that some of them escaped when someone failed to close the pen door after feeding them following that incident?  I think that this might be the same Terror.  I have no idea why it didn’t attack me after attacking Tuff that day.  Maybe it liked the way I smelled?  I just don’t know.  And I haven't seen it since.  Please Astrid, don’t tell my Dad or anyone else.  We need to figure out why this happened.  If you keep it between us, I’ll tell you why I wanted to keep the fact that I made your axe a secret.”  Maybe a little bribery would work.

At that moment, a growl and snorts sounded from the brush about 30 yards to Hiccup’s left, and a wild boar emerged.  It pawed the ground and made ready to attack.  Astrid, still standing next to the still seated Hiccup, pulled the axe from her back, ready to fight off the boar.  “Run,” she mouthed quietly to Hiccup.

 At that moment, the Terrible Terror leapt to its feet, faced the boar and snarled.  Undeterred, the boar began to rush the trio.  It only got a couple of steps when it caught a fireball in the face, and then a second.  The first shots didn’t deter the boar.  It continued its charge only to be hit in the face by four more fireballs from the Terror.  The Terror leapt into the air and landed on the boar’s head and began to claw at it.  That was too much.  Its fur smoldering, its face slashed by Terror claws, the boar turned and ran, squealing in pain.  Leaping from the boar’s head, the little Terror landed next to Hiccup with a very smug look on its face.

Hiccup and Astrid both stared at the little Terror in amazement.  “I-It defended you!” Astrid gasped, her eyes wide in awe.  The little dragon had just destroyed all of her preconceived notions.  “A dragon defended you!  How can that be?”

Hiccup slowly stood and looked down into Astrid’s eyes.  It still felt a bit strange that he was taller than her.  Before he could say anything else, the little dragon, still staring where the boar had been, snorted in disgust, preened itself for a moment, then turned and climbed up Hiccup’s side to perch on his shoulder, gripping his fur vest like a pirate’s parrot.

“Owww,” Hiccup cried.  “Your claws are sharp, little guy.  If you’re going to do that, I’m going to need pauldrons, bracers and leather armor!”

Astrid took in the sight and started to laugh.  No one had ever seen a dragon perch on someone’s shoulder before.  The dragon stared at her with an indignant look on its face.  “Looks like you’ve got a friend,” she said with a giggle.

Hiccup just stared at her.  Astrid giggling?  Astrid never, ever, giggled.

Hiccup turned his head to the Terror.  “Thank you, little bud,” he said.  “You saved us from that boar.  You’re quite the shot.  I think that I’ll call you Sharpshot.”

That snapped Astrid out of her giggles.  “What!  You’re naming a dragon!”  Astrid was incredulous.  “So now you’re going to have a pet dragon!  Really, Hiccup?  Where will you keep him?  You know what will happen if the village finds out?  You won’t be the pariah anymore.  They’ll call you a traitor.  At best, you’ll be exiled to Outcast Island.  At worst, they’ll execute you!”

“Aww, I didn’t know you even cared, Astrid.  Why now, all of a sudden?”

Hiccup’s reply stunned Astrid for a moment.  She didn’t think Hiccup thought that she cared so little for him.  They were friends, after all.  Weren’t they?  Maybe he didn’t view her visits to the forge as being as friendly as she thought they were.

“I just don’t want Berk to lose its best blacksmith,” she lied.  She wasn’t quite ready to reveal what else she’d been thinking about.

The mental picture he’d had in the cove came back to Hiccup. “Let me try something,” he said.  He looked closely into Sharpshot’s eyes and said, “Why don’t you stay here at the cove, boy?” and thought about the little Terror flying into the far end of the cove and perching in a tree.  Sharpshot looked at him curiously with his large eyes, and then launched from Hiccup’s shoulder and glided to a tree on the far side of the cove.  “Well, I’ll be damned!”  Hiccup muttered.  “I can’t believe that worked.”

Astrid stared at Hiccup, her mouth open in disbelief.  “It did what you told it to???  I don’t believe it!  Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know, Astrid.  I just don’t know.  When I was at the cave mouth, I - I got an image of myself backing away from the cave in my mind.  Could it be that dragons can read people’s thoughts and maybe project theirs?  What if that is true?  I need to think about this.” He ran a hand through his wild hair, and then nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  “Please don’t say anything to anyone about the cove, what I think is in the cove, and especially what just happened.  If what I think happened really did just happen, maybe we can find a way to have peace with the dragons.”

Hiccup thought for a moment, and aimed another mental picture at Sharpshot, one of Hiccup giving him some fish.  “I’ll bring them when I come back if you stick around,” projecting a picture of the Terror staying in the cove.

At the mouth of his cave in the cove, still hidden from the rim, Night Stalker gave a gummy smile.  He had remembered seeing the boy’s image in the Terror’s memory and had suggested it land next to him.  What had happened next was totally unexpected.  Night Stalker couldn’t believe that the boy had actually fed the Terror!  And it not only accepted the Viking, it defended him!  Amazing!  He had also seen the image that the boy formed in his mind to get the Terror to fly into the cove along with the following images of food for the Terror and staying in the cove.  It seemed that he had understood that Night Stalker had sent him the earlier image and tried it on his own.  Maybe he could communicate in a fashion with the little Viking.  Not only that, the yellow-haired female that the boy thought of so often was there with him.  She seemed to be growing less hostile to dragons than he had expected, given what had happened.

The Night Fury came to a decision, based on what he’d seen both in the boy’s mind and what had just happened.  Possibly gaining an ally against the Queen made the risk worthwhile.  If things went bad when the boy entered the cove, he could always escape using the seaside entrance.  If worse came to worse, he could always kill anyone who ventured too close.

Slowly, Night Stalker ventured out of the cave and into the cove, in full view of the Vikings on the rim.  He spread his wings and waited.

Astrid caught the movement from the corner of her eye.  “Hiccup!” she whispered urgently.  “Look to your left!  Slowly.”

Both teens turned their heads slowly to look into the cove.  There, standing on four stubby legs, its wings spread wide, stood a Night Fury.  It had a blunt, rounded head with four ear flaps visible.  Its long, broad wings resembled those of a bat.  Directly behind the wings, on the base of the tail, were two small triangular fins.  The tail ended in two large triangular fins.  Down its back, a row of small dorsal spines ran to the midpoint of the tail.

Astrid’s eyes widened in amazement.  Could she be seeing something no one had seen before and lived to tell the tale?

“Gods,” Hiccup breathed.  “It’s beautiful!  And it’s not as large as I thought it might be.  But why is it doing that?  Why is it letting us see it?  Do you realize that we may be the first to ever see a Night Fury…and live to tell the tale?”

Sensing that he’d been seen, Night Stalker shot a small purple plasma ball at the waterfall, causing a small steam explosion in that end of the cove.

“That clinches it!  It really is a Night Fury,” Hiccup exclaimed.

An image appeared in his mind.  Himself standing facing the Night Fury, the two staring at one another.  “ What in Thor’s name is going on?” he thought .  “Is the Night Fury planting pictures in my mind ?  At that, the dragon folded its wings, turned, and disappeared into the shadows where the cave entrance was.

“Okayyyy.  Now I’m really confused,” Hiccup stated.  “Doesn’t the Book of Dragons say “Never engage this dragon.  Your only chance; hide and pray it does not find you.”  And weren’t we told that a dragon will always, ALWAYS, go for the kill?  Yet it didn’t attack me when I was near it at the cave entrance.  And now, it let both of us see it, and then just retreated into its cave.  I’m beginning to think it was trying to communicate with us.” Astrid snapped her head around to look at him.

“What do you mean, trying to communicate?”  The look in Astrid’s eyes was pure skepticism.

“Didn’t you see a picture in your mind?  Me standing in front of the Night Fury, the two of us staring at each other.”  Hiccup didn’t realize that the Night Fury’s thought projection was focussed rather than broadcast.

“Nope.  I didn’t see anything.  Are you sure you’re not imagining things?” Astrid replied incredulously, narrowing her eyes and furrowing her brow.  Was Hiccup going crazy?

“I don’t know.  But before the Terror left for the cove, I pictured it doing just that in my mind.  Now I really wonder if it is possible for dragons to read people’s thoughts.  That could explain why their raids are so effective.  I really need to think about this.”  Hiccup looked into the morning sky to check the sun’s position.

“I need to get back to the village.  I’m due at the forge soon,” he realized. He twisted to face Astrid, still wary of her feelings about what had just happened.  “Please keep what happened between us for now.  Please, Astrid?”  Hiccup was praying fervently that she wouldn’t tell Stoick what had happened this morning.

“Oookay,” she said after a moment, shaking her head as if to accept a new way of thinking.  Too much had happened in a short time.  But what she had seen had shaken her notions about dragons to the core.  She would keep quiet and think about what had happened.  Could it really be that dragons weren’t the mindless beasts that Vikings thought they were?

“But you promised to tell me why you made my axe and put so much work into it.  And besides, there’s something that I need to talk to you about.”

“It won’t take us too long to get back to the village, and I have a feeling that these conversations are going to take some time.  Besides, I think you’re supposed to be at the arena to work with your students right about now, aren’t you?”

“You’re right,” Astrid said with a groan.  “When can we talk then?  I don’t want to wait too long.”

“How about this afternoon after normal forge hours?  I was planning on working late on a project anyway,” Hiccup replied.

“Okay.  Maybe you’ll have my axe ready when I get there.  Let’s head back.”

“Wait a minute.”  Hiccup couldn’t believe what he had just heard.  “Do you want to take a chance being seen walking out of the forest with the village screwup?  What will the tribe think if they see us?  Do you want someone to get the idea that we’ve been fooling around in the woods?  I don’t want anything tarnishing your reputation.”

“I don’t care,” Astrid replied.  “That’s part of what I want to talk to you about.  My life is not nearly as perfect as you think.”  Reaching out, she took Hiccup’s hand and pulled him to his feet.  Still clutching his hand, she started towards the village, almost dragging him with her. Hiccup, momentarily stunned, turned to follow.  He was actually holding hands with the love of his life.  What was going on?

After they had gone a short distance, Hiccup asked, “Why are you still holding my hand, Astrid?  I mean, it’s really nice, but I didn’t think you liked me that way.”

“I don’t know.  Let’s just call this an experiment, okay?  It may have something to do with what I want to talk to you about later.”

Hiccup puzzled over this comment as they started back to the village.  What did she mean by that?  It was all very confusing.  Hiccup’s mind swirled with jumbled thoughts, trying to make sense of what had happened and what was happening now.

Hand in hand, they walked back to the edge of the forest, each lost in their own thoughts.  Hiccup would loosen his grip from time to time, only to have Astrid squeeze his hand tighter when he did so.  “ Why is she doing this,” he wondered.  He had to admit, the warmth of her hand in his felt very nice and was sending little shock waves up his arm.  “ I can’t believe that Astrid is holding my hand,” he thought.  “ What is going on?  And what does this have to do with what she wants to talk to me about?  Could she finally have an interest in dating me?”   He dismissed the thought.  Maybe she was just looking out for his safety.

Astrid, for her part, was thinking about the courage that Hiccup had shown in the face of the Terrible Terror, and how he thought his way through the problem.  How could he be so bold in the presence of a dragon, and yet so uncertain with her and so timid with the villagers?  She was surprised to find that she liked the feel of his hand in hers and squeezed it tighter when he tried to pull away.  His hand in hers sent an unfamiliar thrill up her arm and was causing a strange feeling deep inside.  Why was she reacting this way?  She really wanted only a pretend relationship with him, not the real thing.  What was going on?

Astrid was still holding Hiccup’s hand when they reached the forest’s edge.  They parted without a word, both wearing small smiles and wondering what had just happened.

Chapter Text

Hiccup reached the forge a little late.  He and Astrid had parted near the forest’s edge.  He didn’t think that anyone had seen them walking holding hands.

Unfortunately, Gobber was already there when Hiccup entered and reached for his heavy leather apron.

“Off lollygagging again, were yeh?”  Gobber said with a frown.

“Dad was snoring loud enough to wake Odin, and I couldn’t sleep,” Hiccup said with a snarky tone.  “I got up before sunrise and took a walk in the woods to think.  Got treed by a boar.  Again.”

“Won’t yeh ever learn?”  Gobber was exasperated.  “I dinna want ta lose me best apprentice!”

“Gobber, I’m your only apprentice!”  Hiccup snarked back.  “You just don’t want to be saddled with all of the work that I do or have to train someone new.  I mean, wouldn’t Snotlout or maybe Tuffnut make a good apprentice?  How about Dogsbreath?  After all, most everyone on Berk simply thinks that I’m Hiccup the Useless.”

Gobber huffed at that statement.  “Really?  Yer goin’ there?  Snotlout is the laziest Viking on Berk.  Unless it has to do with fighting, he is unteachable.  And Tuffnut?  He’d burn the forge down on the first day.  On purpose!  I don’t want that Loki lover anywhere near here.  And Dogsbreath, he may be good using weapons but he has no patience.  That muttonhead would never be able to learn this craft.  Now get to work!  We’ve a few weapons that need fixin’, and yeh still ain’t finished with Astrid’s axe.  She was by yesterday when yeh were at lunch in the Great Hall and was pretty upset.”

“Yeah, I know.  I told her that she should practice with axes from the armory in case her axe is here for service.  She didn’t like the idea, but I insisted that she try.  I think she may have been out practicing earlier today.  I may have heard her war cries while I was treed.”

At that, Hiccup turned to the rack of weapons being serviced and grabbed Astrid’s axe.  Making the new axe head required melting the steel from the old head plus additional bog iron, and then pouring it into the mold.  Once that had cooled, he had heated the blade to yellow heat three times, slowly cooling it in a bucket of ash to normalize the steel.  He had just finished hardening and tempering the blade ends yesterday, heating them to a yellow heat and quenching them in water, followed by heating the blade ends to a dull red heat and allowing it to slowly cool to make the steel tougher and less brittle.  He had also inserted a new oak handle, redone the spiral leather wrapping and inserted new iron studs.  It was ready for a final polish, sharpening, and some special engraving which he had planned.

Hiccup got to work on finishing the axe.  He first sharpened it on the stone grinding wheels, working from a coarse to a fine stone until he was finally satisfied with the sharpness.  He smiled at the thought of Astrid testing that edge.  Then, he wet the finest finishing wheel in the forge with whale oil for a rough polish of the blade.  The final polish of the blade was done with an oiled rag and the finest of sands.  In the background, Gobber had watched Hiccup work with a satisfied smile, which grew larger as he saw the gleam of the finely polished blade.

Hiccup had already carefully cut the patterns that he was going to engrave on the axe into parchments.  He tacked the patterns to the axe head with beeswax and carefully scratched the patterns onto the softer steel on the center of the head.  Once the rough patterns were scratched on the axe head, Hiccup started by first engraving a complex symbol, using a fine tipped, hard graver and a small hammer.  He worked swiftly, completing the symbol in record time.  He examined his work.  Satisfied, he flipped the axe head and began work on the more complex legend that he had planned for the opposite side of the axe.  As he worked with engraving, he thought about everything that had happened earlier in the morning.  At the top of his mind was “Astrid held my hand!”

The day went much like any day at the forge.  Despite wanting him to finish Astrid’s axe, Gobber had Hiccup sharpen a couple of swords and axes in the que, restring a couple of broken bolas, and fix a dented helmet.  He didn’t see the point to Hiccup’s embellishments on the axe.  The occasional tribesman came to the hatch, demanding their weapons and heaping the usual harassment and scorn on the apprentice blacksmith.  Gobber left at lunch and was away for a long time.  He was probably at the Great Hall downing mugs of strong mead.  His mug hand was gone, after all.  He often stayed at the hall for a long lunch, rarely returning any more from the hall to check on Hiccup’s work or to supervise him shutting down the forge for the day.  That, at least, gave Hiccup some small satisfaction.  Gobber trusted his work, even if practically no one else in the Hooligan tribe did.  Well, maybe Astrid did too, especially after what she’d told him.

It didn’t matter that he was the son of the Chief, Stoick the Vast.  In fact, that was a liability.  Everyone compared the tiny fishbone son to his gigantic father.  No matter that he was no longer the utter fishbone that he had been at fifteen, having grown to just over 6 feet tall.  At least working all these years as Gobber’s apprentice had added some muscle to his wiry frame.  The muscle just wasn’t obvious under his tunic.  The same question from this morning was on his mind; how he could ever gain the respect of his tribe, or for that matter, his father.

Hiccup sighed and bent back to engraving Astrid’s axe, free from distractions for a while at last.  The delicate work required his total concentration.  At least he had finished engraving the Norse symbol of protection on one side of the blade.  He continued working on the inscription that he was engraving on the opposite face.  As he concentrated on the work, he didn’t hear Snotlout Jorgenson and his father, Spitelout, arrive at the forge hatch.

“Hey!  Useless!  I need my sword sharpened.  Now!”  Snotlout shouted from the hatch.  Hiccup jumped, startled.  Thankfully, he had paused to check his work.  Otherwise, he might have skidded the graver across the axe and ruined the piece.

“Snotlout,” Hiccup growled with irritation.  “Don’t sneak up on me and yell when I’m concentrating.  You could have made me ruin this piece!”

“I don’t care, Useless!  I need my sword sharpened, NOW!”

Hiccup, growing more irritated by the second, shot back “Leave it.  There is other work ahead of you.  We take jobs in the order received.  There are nearly a dozen pieces ahead of your sword.  Come back tomorrow.  If you need a sword in the meantime, get one from the armory!

Snotlout, furious at the refusal, entered the forge with his sword.  He looked intent on attacking Hiccup.  “I said, sharpen it NOW, Useless, or I’ll beat you to a pulp!”

Hiccup just stared at him for a moment.  “If you beat me to a pulp, I won’t be able to sharpen your sword, will I?” he snarked.  “Besides, are you really sure that you want “Useless” touching your sword?”  He walked over to a bench, picked up a whetstone, and tossed it to Snotlout.  “Here.  Free of charge.  A proper Viking warrior should know how to hone the edge of his weapon anyway, don’t you think?”  This was the most he had snarked at anyone in months.  It had to be a result of the events earlier in the day.

Snotlout caught the whetstone, pocketed it, and snarled back “That will not work for this sword.”

With a sigh, Hiccup walked over to his tormentor.  “All right, let me see it,” he said with a groan.  Hiccup carefully examined the sword blade, noting that its edges were heavily chipped.  “Just what have you been doing with this, Snot?  Fighting rocks?  This is not a simple sharpening job.”

“You’re going to do it now, or else…” Snotlout snarled.

“You’ll do it now, boyo, or Stoick will hear of this,” Spitelout growled.

At that moment, Gobber entered the main forge from the storage room where he’d been checking on the iron stock for a new project after a rare early return from the Great Hall.  He walked up to Hiccup and gestured to Hiccup to hand him the sword.  Facing the father and son Louts, he said “Me apprentice is right.  This blade needs to be ground, retempered and sharpened.  That will take at least two days to do right.  So yeh will either leave the sword to be fixed and borrow one from the armory or order a new one which will take two weeks, and we’ll scrap this one and yeh’ll still need one from the armory.  It’s yer choice.  And if yeh keep abusing me apprentice, we won’t do any work for yeh.  Yer choice.”

Grumbling and not wanting to face down the much larger blacksmith, Snotlout replied grudgingly “All right” while staring daggers at Hiccup.

“If I hear of or see either of yeh abusing me apprentice again or interfering with forge business, Stoick will hear of it.  Do yeh understand?” Gobber growled.

Both Snotlout and Spitelout grunted something that might have been an answer and stalked away grumbling.

“Thanks, Gobber.  But I don’t think that will stop them in the future if you’re not here.  Those two have had it in for me forever.  They both think that Snotlout should be the heir.”  Hiccup turned to go back to his workbench and Astrid’s axe.

“How’s the axe coming along?” Gobber asked.  “It looks finished.”

“Not quite,” Hiccup replied.  “I’m adding a few extra touches, just for her.”

“Yeh really are still sweet on her, aren’t yeh?  Even after all this time.  Yeh know yeh don’t stand a chance with her.  She’s turned down every suitor so far, and yer still a fishbone compared to them.”

“I know,” Hiccup sighed.  “But I still want to do this for her.  It means a lot to me, and maybe it’ll mean something to her.”  Thinking about their morning encounter, Hiccup couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, his chances had improved.

Gobber looked closely at the axe head, noting the runes being engraved on the face.  He flipped the head and examined the protection symbol.  “Yer engraving it?  That’s nice work.  I’m sure she’ll like it.”  He hadn’t read the partial inscription on the opposite face.

“I sure hope so.  I hope I can have it finished when she comes around later.  I told her it would be finished,” he lied.  He had no idea what Astrid wanted to talk to him about.  “I’d better get back to work on this.”

Hiccup took the axe from Gobber and sat back on the stool at his bench.  Frowning in concentration, he resumed engraving the inscription on the axe head.

Gobber looked at his apprentice and smiled.  “I’ll man the hatch and work on these other weapons and let yeh concentrate.  I’ll put Snotlout’s sword at the bottom of the list.  If he bitches, tell him it’s me sayso and let ‘im complain to me.  If the engraving takes yeh the rest of the afternoon, I’ll shut everything down, too.”

“Thanks, Gobber,” Hiccup replied while thinking that Gobber would have to tell Snot about his sword’s priority.  If he told Snot that, he’d only get more abuse.  With a sigh, he bent down with hammer and graver and resumed engraving the inscription.

The rest of the day went quietly.  Hiccup finished the engraving just before closing time and examined his work with a small, satisfied smile.  “ I sure hope she likes it,” he thought.  Although, it was more likely that he’d get a punch in the shoulder for his efforts.

True to his word, Gobber had closed down the forge for the night.  Hiccup waited for a while, but Astrid was still a no show.  “Well, this isn’t getting me anywhere,” he sighed to himself as he prepared to shuck his leather apron.  “Maybe she just got tied up with some late training, ” he thought hopefully.  More likely she had changed her mind, deciding that what had happened that morning was a mistake.  In any case, he decided that he would wait and see if she would come by.

Hiccup went and sat at his workbench and waited as the minutes dragged out.  His thoughts drifted to the cave and exploring it.  He realized that carrying a torch would only leave one hand free for a shield or a weapon.  He began to wonder how he could have light and have both hands free.  What about something to hold a candle?  As he glanced around the forge, he noticed some helmets partway through construction and others awaiting repairs, minus horns.  Grabbing his notebook, he began to sketch an idea for a candle holder.  If he started with a two foot piece of heavy square nail stock, maybe he could make something for his exploration and something to help the island’s miners.  He had often heard them complain about having to have someone hold a torch while another dug the minerals or having to drill a socket in the rock wall to hold the torch.  They couldn’t hold a torch and swing a pick.  If they wanted to drill a socket in the wall to hold the torch, that also cut mining time.  He’d also heard many complaints about heads bumped against low ceilings in the mines.  Why not make a helmet with a light?

His sketch of a candle holder quickly took shape.  An eight-inch spike, sharply pointed at one end.  That could be jammed into a crack in the rocks right above the work, or a support beam or post.  Then, a three-inch teardrop shaped loop handle that curved out to the right side away from the shaft then bending back into the left side of the shaft.  A flattened piece which would be curved in a circle to hold the candle.  Then, after about an inch, curving the stock up into a hook (1).

He frowned at the drawing for a minute.  The steel would be springy enough to use the hook as a handle to open the candle socket, but the sharp edges of a square stock hook and handle could bite into the miner’s hands.  They took enough abuse.  Both would have to be rounded off.  File work for sure.

Now for the helmet.  It would be simple enough to rivet a socket to the helmet to hold the candle holder hook.  Yes, he could make these.  But there would be a problem with this in the cave.  He had felt a breeze coming from the cave mouth.  That could extinguish the candle.  The candle holder would work in the mines, but not so well in the cave.  He’d still try to make these for the miners.  At last, something practical that would get him noticed!

Still no Astrid.  Hiccup’s thoughts drifted back to the cave lighting problem.  He wondered if Trader Johann had ever encountered anything that would help him.  He certainly had a seemingly unlimited number of long and mostly boring tales from his travels.  Hiccup thought about all the exotic items that Johann had brought from time to time.  He was getting thirsty.  A good mug of hot tea would taste great right now.  Wait a minute!  Johann had brought a metal teapot from the far south on one of his trips.  What if…

Hiccup flipped to a new page on his notebook and began to sketch an idea.  “Ahem” a melodious voice announced from the window of the forge.  “Is my axe ready yet?”  Hiccup was concentrating so hard that he didn’t hear her, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he worked on his design..

“Hummph,” she snorted, twisting her mouth into a slight scowl.  No one ignored Astrid!  She spotted Hiccup crouched over his bench lost in thought, sketching something.  Obviously words were not going to work.  She walked into the forge and came up behind Hiccup.  He was still sketching.  He hadn’t heard her approach.  She tapped him on the shoulder and was satisfied to see him jump about a foot in the air, nearly hitting her chin with his head.

Hiccup turned to see Astrid standing there, looking very impatient.  “H-Hi, A-astrid, Hi Astrid, Hi Astrid,” he stuttered.  His crush on her always made him nervous.  “Y-You’re pretty late.  I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Sorry about that.”  Astrid’s scowl turned into a sheepish smile. “Training the new students ran a lot longer than I planned.  They’re such screwups.  Gustav is the worst.  I think he has a crush on me.  He never pays attention.  I had him running punishment laps around the arena and doing a lot of pushups.  I hope it helps.”

“I’m surprised that you didn’t hear me.  What were you concentrating on so hard that your ears shut down?”

His cheeks reddening in embarrassment, Hiccup showed her the notebook page he’d been working on and then the previous one.  “Thinking about a light other than a torch to explore the cave in the cove got me thinking about better ways for our miners to light their work.  One of these might also let us explore the dragon cave and have our hands free, just in case.”

“Oh,” Astrid replied, a puzzled look on her face.  “But how would they leave our hands free?”

“Ah, I forgot,” Hiccup replied, a small smile lighting his face.  He showed Astrid his sketch of a modified Viking helmet with no horns.  “See?  The lamp will hang from the bracket on the helmet.  No hands!  Or, with the candle holder, they could just stick it in a crack or in a support beam.”

“Ah, I think I see.”  Astrid still looked a little puzzled.  “If that works, you might actually have one of your inventions accepted.  But wouldn’t hot wax drip onto the miner’s face if the candleholder  is hanging from their helmet?”

Hiccup looked sheepish.  He hadn’t thought of that.  “Oh, maybe I need to put a brim on the front of the helmet then.  Great idea, Astrid!”

Astrid grinned, proud that she’d thought of something that Hiccup hadn’t.  Then, shifting the subject, she asked, “Anyway, is my axe finished?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s ready.”  Hiccup walked back to the finished weapons rack and retrieved her axe from its special location.  He handed it to Astrid, who gave it a critical examination, frowning as she took in the details and noticing how new the axe looked.

“This doesn’t look like my axe.  It looks completely new.  What gives?  You were only supposed to sharpen it!  Spill, Haddock!”

Her intense glare only made Hiccup more nervous.  He absently rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit that Astrid had seen many times.  “W-well, b-before I sharpened it, I checked it and discovered that it had a bad crack in it.  I had to make a new blade for it.  The handle was cracked as well, so I made a new one too.  It's leather wrapped, just like your old one, and I added some extra tacks to give you a better grip.  I gave the blade a high polish and a coating of beeswax so that it is less likely to stick in your target.  That will need to be renewed from time to time.  All part of the service.  Don’t worry, it should fit you even better than your old axe.  The handle is a little longer, since you’ve grown a lot since I made the original.  It should balance a lot like the old one, though.”

Astrid hefted the axe and held it at different angles.  She noticed that the blade was polished to a shiny finish, glinting in the light from the candles on the walls.  She finally took a couple of test swings.  “That is better,” she said with a slight smile, making Hiccup’s heart race.  She liked it!  “It feels more like an extension of my arm!”  Astrid studied at the axe handle more closely, looking at the new leather and the new tack pattern and nodded.  She tried a couple of different grips and shook her head.  “That does seem better too,” she replied.  She tested the edge on both blades with her thumb and smiled at how sharp both edges were.  And then, a frown crossed her face as she examined the axe more closely.  “And just what else did you do to it?” she asked, sounding annoyed.  Hiccup’s heart sank.

Astrid frowned and looked at the blade more closely.  She set it on her palms and hefted it.  “Wait.  The blade looks and feels exactly like the original.”  Her eyes got wider.  “How did you do that?”  How did you duplicate my axe head exactly?  I mean, I know how metal is cast.  A sand mold is used and is destroyed once the item has cooled.”  After all, she had spent time in the past watching Hiccup and Gobber work in the forge.

“I knew what your axe meant to you and wanted to be able to duplicate it exactly if needed.”  He walked back to his room and came back with what looked like a large chunk of stone with clamps on it.  “I designed and carved a special mold from lava rock.  That’s why making the original took so long.  Your Dad was really upset with us.  He thought it wouldn’t be ready on time.”

Hiccup undid the clamps and carefully opened the mold for Astrid to see.  Her eyes widened and her mouth took the shape of an “O” as she saw the shape inside between the pins and sockets which aligned the two halves of the mold.  “Hiccup!  That’s amazing!  You did this just for me?”

“O-of course.  Even though we had drifted apart at that time, you never stopped being a special friend to me.  I know how much your axe means to you.  But you’re right, there is something else that makes this axe different from the original.  I-I did something to make the axe truly yours.  L-look at the c-center of the blade.  I-I hope that y-you like what I did.”

Astrid looked at the blade itself and her eyebrows rose.  Engraved in one face of the double headed blade was an elaborate eight-pointed star, with four of the points doubled containing cupped semicircles and elaborate designs within the star itself.  In the center of the star was a small stylized sun.  It was the Norse symbol of protection.  The engraving was flanked top and bottom by the rivets which secured the head to the handle.

The Norse Symbol of Protection engraved on Astrid’s new axe

“Hiccup, the engraving…it’s beautiful!” she gasped as a smile spread across her face.  “Did you do this?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup replied, relaxing his shoulders as some of his tension melted away.  “Some time ago Gobber started teaching me engraving for some of the more special pieces that we make…things that aren’t weapons.  I’ve done a few small things, and given the increased frequency of dragon raids recently, I thought that our valiant Shield Maiden could use all the help she could get.  I was hoping that you’d like it and wouldn’t think that I’d defaced your axe.”

“Y-You did all this just for me?  I mean, when did you find the time?”  Astrid looked stunned.  She couldn’t believe it.  Until this morning, she’d been mostly ignoring her friend except during axe servicing visits to the forge, concentrating on training when not resting from fighting off late night dragon raids.  The last one had been particularly bad, several houses burned to the ground, a storehouse stripped of fish stocks, and two dozen sheep and a couple of yaks carried off.  At least none of the tribe had been carried away, although several had been injured.  And, a Thor-damned Night Fury had destroyed four of the village’s catapults.  And still no one had seen it.  Until this morning, that is.

“Well, since we’ve had storms over the last few days, and we never get raids in that kind of weather, Gobber gave me a little extra time to practice my skills.”  Hiccup replied, feeling a little more confident.  “I suggested this to him, and he seemed to think it was a good idea.  I’m sorry that I kept it away from you so long.  Y-You’re sure that you like it?  You’re not mad that I kept it so long?”

“No, I love it!”

“L-look at the other side of the blade.”

Astrid flipped the blade to look at the other side and saw the engraved runes.  They read “I belong to the best Shield Maiden on Midgard.”

A small tear appeared in Astrid’s eye.  Then she walked up to Hiccup and punched him hard on the shoulder.  “That’s for keeping my axe so long!”

“Ow!  I thought that you said you didn’t mind!”  Hiccup recoiled and rubbed the sore spot on his shoulder, shaking his head in disbelief.  He had sort of been expecting the punch, but not so much given how pleased Astrid seemed to be with her new axe.

Astrid reached for the laces on his tunic and Hiccup tried to back away, unsure of what was coming next.  This was not going according to plan.  But he did not evade her grasp.  She pulled him in and planted a strong kiss on his lips and then enveloped him in a tight hug, with the axe clenched in one hand behind his back.  Hiccup wrapped his arms around her in an automatic response.  Was this really happening?

When she pulled back, Astrid grinned at him mischievously and said, “That’s for everything else!  Now, you were supposed to tell me why you made my original axe and not Gobber.  He was the one who was contracted to make it, after all, according to Dad.”

“W-well, t-that was supposed to be my secret.”  Hiccup replied.  “It was my first special project, a commission from your Dad.  When I found out about it, I asked Gobber if I could make your axe.  He thought I was ready and said yes.  But it was something that he was supposed to do and I didn’t want it known that he hadn’t.  And, I really wasn’t ready to let on how I felt about you.”  No turning back.  “How I still feel about you.  How special and remarkable I think you are.  Even though I did leave a clue that I had made it.”

“How you felt about me?  At age 10?  How you still feel about me?  And what clue?”  Astrid’s eyes widened in surprise.

Hiccup smiled at her.  “My secret is out.  On the base of the blade where it met the haft, I carved HHHIII in very small runes.  My initials.  Unless you looked there closely, you’d never see them.”

Astrid tilted her new axe to light the base of the blade and examined it closely.  Her eyes widened, a soft smile appearing as she read the runes.  Sure enough, HHHIII was neatly engraved on the broadest section at the base of the blade next to the handle.

“A-Astrid, I’ve been in l-love with you since I was ten.  No matter that you’ve always been so far out of my league.  I’ve always admired you.  You’re amazing.  You’re beautiful, fearless, the best at everything that you do.  I know you don’t feel the same way about me.  I’ve accepted that you would never return my feelings.   I mean, who could love Hiccup the Useless, Hiccup the screwup.  I know that you want to remain a Shield Maiden, and that Shield Maidens remain single.  If I could still be just your friend, that would make me happy.”

Astrid gazed at her toes and fingered the handle of her axe.  To Hiccup, she looked uncertain.  A war of emotions played across her face.  And the way that she was fingering her axe made him nervous.  Had he said too much?

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Astrid said finally, looking uncertain.  “But if you’ve felt that way about me for nine years now, why have you never even tried to court me?”

“I think that I’ve already said it.  Hiccup the Useless, Hiccup the scrawny fishbone, remember?  How could someone as beautiful, as amazing as you are possibly be interested in someone like me?  I feel so totally inadequate to even be in your presence.”

“This morning you said that you couldn’t believe that I had any problems.  That my life was perfect.”  She sighed.  She looked downcast, almost sad.  “That is so far from the truth.  But given what you just told me, now I’m wondering if what I was going to say to you is the right thing to do.”

Hiccup frowned.  What had he done wrong now?  Everything seemed to be going so well.  “Astrid, you’re being awfully cryptic.  What’s wrong?  I’d do anything in my power to help you.  Whatever you need.  You’re still my friend, just about my only human friend aside from Gobber, and maybe Bucket and Mulch.  At least I think you are, even though we haven’t been very close for a long time.  Please, you can tell me anything.  I won’t judge.”

“No, I can’t, Hiccup.  I don’t want to hurt you, and what I was thinking could cause you a lot of pain.”  Her eyes glistened, and she wiped at them furiously with her free hand to prevent an uncharacteristic tear from falling.

“Please, Astrid.  Whatever is wrong is really making you sad.  I can’t bear that.  Please, let me help.”  Hiccup reached out and gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Astrid drew him into a tight hug.  A tear dropped from her eye and wet Hiccup’s tunic.  “You’ve got it all wrong, Hiccup.  I don’t deserve a friend like you.  You’re not useless!  You’re a great blacksmith.  You’re smart, you’re inventive, kind, modest and brave.  You’ve faced all of the bullying and still find it in you to be kind to people, even if they’ve hurt you.  I’ve been so distant, ignoring you all these years unless I had work for you.  I can’t ask you to do what I was thinking.”

“Astrid, please.  You’ve always been nicer to me than any of the others.  Even that day in the ring with the Nadder when you shouted at me to decide which side I was on, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as what the others did.  A smile or a kind word from you when you are at the forge makes my day.  I would literally do anything for you.  Please?  Tell me what’s wrong, what’s got you so upset.”

Astrid backed away from Hiccup and gestured to the stools.  “We’d better be sitting down for this.”  They both sat down, with Astrid gazing into Hiccup’s emerald eyes.  She sighed.  This was going to hurt him so much.  She started talking and all of the pent-up feelings came gushing out.

“I guess that I should just say it outright.  My parents want to marry me off.  You know that I’ve rejected every suitor that has tried to court me, so they’re trying to arrange a marriage with one of the other tribal heirs.  Dagur and Thuggory have been mentioned, to name a couple.  I’d have to leave Berk, and I don’t want to!”  Astrid grimaced at that thought.

“I also really don’t want to be married, particularly to anyone like those two.  I’ve known for a long time that you liked me.”  She gazed at her feet, and gave Hiccup a shy, almost bashful look, looking at him through lowered eyelashes.  “I’ve seen you watching me with that goofy expression on your face.  I just thought it was a crush.  But you’ve never said anything until now.  You’ve never come on to me at all.  I was hoping that if we spent some time together, if you seemed to be courting me, that my parents would back off,” she said in a rush.  Her eyebrows pinched together, and she looked hopeful and apprehensive at the same time.  “I know that you wouldn’t stop me from being a Shield Maiden.  I like you, Hiccup, but not in that way.  I don’t want you to be hurt by my selfishness.  I don’t know what else to do.  Maybe I should just run away, sneak away the next time Trader Johann is here.”

Hiccup sat there, just staring at the beautiful blonde in front of him, his mouth agape.  Astrid saw his expression and her heart sank.  “ I knew it,” she thought,   “I just should have kept my mouth shut and left.”

“Hiccup?  Say something, Hiccup!  Please!”

Hiccup’s lips tilted up in a slow smile, and there was a softness to his eyes and a bit of a sparkle.  “Astrid, I told you, I’ll help in any way that I can.  This is about as close to having my dream come true as I could possibly hope for.  I’ll be your fake boyfriend.  The last thing that I could possibly want is to have you leave Berk and never see you again.  Long ago I vowed that there will always be a Hiccup and Astrid.  Whatever you want that to mean.  I’d love to spend more time with you.  And if we just stay good friends, I’ll accept that.  But you should know, I do hope that our relationship can grow into something more.  And know this, if it does, I will never stop you from being the Shield Maiden that you’ve become.”

It was Astrid’s turn to sit and stare.  Moisture tugged at the corner of her eyes.  She blinked in an attempt to cover it.  She hadn’t expected this.  Any of it.

Hiccup looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes.  “Besides, if you left, who would help me solve the mystery of the Night Fury in the cove?  I can’t imagine exploring that cave with anyone other than Berk’s fierce Shield Maiden.”

“Oh, you!”  Astrid stood and punched him in the shoulder.

“OW! Why is it always violence with you?”

“It’s not violence.  It’s communication!”  Grabbing his tunic again, Astrid drew Hiccup into a blistering kiss.  As their lips played across each others’ slowly, they both thought “I could get used to this.”   Astrid wondered again why she was getting a fluttering feeling in her core as she kissed Hiccup.  Hiccup felt as if he was close to a lightning strike, his entire body tingling.  He thought he must be dreaming.  This couldn’t really be happening!

Breaking the kiss with a pop, Astrid stepped back and smiled at Hiccup.  “Thanks, Hiccup, for doing this for me.  I really don’t deserve a friend like you.  This is so selfish of me.  I know this will hurt you in the end.”

“No Astrid, you deserve everything that I can do for you.  Berk can’t afford to lose its fierce Shield Maiden.  We can’t afford to lose you to another tribe.  I want to do this.” A smirk tugged at the side of his lips.  “And maybe, just maybe, I’m being a little selfish too.”

Astrid raised her eyebrow.  She couldn’t believe how Hiccup was responding to what she suggested.  At the same time she was wondering why she had thought that she could get used to kissing Hiccup, where those strange feelings were coming from.  This was not supposed to be a real relationship, and he had agreed.  Reaching out and taking his hand, she said “Then let’s get this started.  I’m hungry, and the Great Hall is still serving.  No time like the present to show the village that we’re a couple, even if it is only for show.”  She holstered her new axe across her back and gazed expectantly at Hiccup.

Hiccup stared at Astrid, his mouth agape.  Did Astrid really want to start the pretend relationship right away?  How would this affect her status in the village? Berkians were notorious gossipers.   He wondered how the village would react to him looking like he was courting Astrid.  Would that attract more bullying?

“A-are you sure, Astrid?  Do you really want to be seen together with me like this?  Won’t being seen with the village screwup hurt your reputation?”

“I don’t care about that anymore,” she replied, her eyes glittering in the candlelight.  “If being seen with you saves me from leaving Berk for an arranged marriage, that’s all that matters.  Besides, I’m beginning to get the feeling that there’s more to you than the rest of Berk thinks.  So yes, I’m sure!”  

Hiccup realized then that he had not had breakfast or lunch.  His stomach gave a loud growl, a sadly familiar complaint.  “Okay, let’s go.”

They blew out the candles in the forge, and Hiccup locked the hatch and the door.  Hand in hand, they walked to the Great Hall, both smiling and lost in their thoughts.  Along the way, a number of villagers going about their tasks spotted the pair and froze.  The young couple heard confused whispers from those who were closest when they passed.

“And so, it begins,” Hiccup thought.  Astrid steadfastly ignored the whispers as they continued towards the Great Hall.

(1) Hiccup has just designed the miner’s candle holder.  The candle holder described is the Varney pattern, invented by Nathan E. Varney in Colorado in the 1880’s.  The design eliminates the need to braze or weld the hook and candle thimble to the shaft, as was common with nearly every other candle holder design.  Hiccup has designed it more than eight centuries in advance!

Varney Miner’s Candle Holder, from the author’s collection

Chapter Text

Hand in hand, Astrid and Hiccup entered the Great Hall and headed for the serving line.  A few people had seen them enter holding hands and began to whisper to one another just like those they’d encountered on the way.  As the pair walked toward the serving area, more and more voices hushed and more whispers began.  Astrid’s parents, eating a rare meal away from their house, noticed the sudden quiet and looked up in time to see their daughter holding hands with the Chief’s heir.  Hakon and Ingrid Hofferson exchanged disbelieving glances.  What was up with their daughter?  Her dragon training class was also present, exchanging stunned looks with one another.

Hiccup and Astrid parted as they picked up bowls and spoons.  Each filled their bowl with a rich salmon stew with turnips, beans and onions.  Added to that were barley cakes and some crusty bread.  Both finally selected mugs of ale for their drinks, and sat together at a far table, hoping for a quiet meal together.  It was not to be.

Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut and Fishlegs all left their table and wandered over to Astrid and Hiccup’s table.  Snotlout and Ruffnut walked together with their arms around each other.  Tuffnut had a smirk on his face, while Fishlegs looked puzzled and Ruffnut looked a little nauseated.  “Alright, Astrid,” Snotlout snarked, “Why are you eating with this loser?  And what was with all the hand holding?”

“Yeah, why?  Sitting with him would ruin my appetite,” Tuffnut added, looking disgusted.  Despite his thin build, Tuffnut was known to have a ravenous appetite.  It would take a lot to put him off his feed.

“Did he do something special for you, Astrid?” Fishlegs asked.  Of the four, he was always the thoughtful one.  “I mean, I’ve never seen him do anything that stands out.”

“I’ll bet she’s doing this on a dare,” Ruffnut snarked.  “What’s the matter Astrid?  Did Gustav dare you to hold hands and eat with Useless here?  We know you don’t like wimping out on a dare.”

“Nothing like that Ruff.  And a dare from MiniSnot?  Really?  I’m just thanking him for making me a new axe,” she replied with a subtly menacing undertone, her eyes narrowing as her anger built.  “He had my old axe in for sharpening and discovered that it was too damaged to sharpen again.”  She removed the axe from its holster on her back and handed it to Snotlout.  In the background, Astrid’s parents had wandered over, hanging back and listening curiously.

“This is your old axe!  All he did was polish it and sharpen it.  There is no way that Useless here could make something like this.”

“Look closer, Snotlout.  Or are your eyes so bad that you can’t see the engraving, the new materials and the longer handle?”  Astrid sent a searing glare at Snotlout, who gave a small squeak and moved back a step, his face paling slightly.  The last time he’d received such a glare had ended in bruises from her axe.  This time she looked like she might swing the axe even harder.

“That’s what I was working on when you so rudely interrupted me this afternoon,” Hiccup added, eyes narrowing and his tone laced with a little anger.  After the afternoon’s interruption, this was too much.

Flinching slightly at Hiccup’s tone despite his utter disdain for his cousin, Snotlout examined the axe more closely.  The leather and the studs on the handle looked new.  And for that matter, so did the wood.  There were no chips in the blade’s edges.  Then he noticed the engraved protection symbol.  “So what,” he smirked, handing the axe back to Astrid.  “I still don’t believe it.  No way Useless could make something this nice.”

“You do know how Gobber marks the blades that he makes, don’t you Snotty?” Hiccup snarled.  He was getting more and more upset with the interruption.  His stew was getting cold.

“Sure, GTB for Gobber the Belch on the bottom of the axe blade, or near the hilt on a sword or knife.  So what?”

“Look again.”  Astrid held her axe near a candle on the table so that the base of the blade was visible and well lit.  Engraved there was HHHIII, for Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.

“No way.  I don’t believe you,” Snotlout smirked.  “Useless here can’t do more than sharpen things, restring bolas and maybe make nails.  He just had Gobber put it there to fool you.”

“He made my old axe too, nine years ago.” Astrid remarked.  This earned a gasp from her parents as well as the teens.

“Useless just made that up to impress you,” Snotlout snarked, glaring at Hiccup.  There was no way his clumsy, good for nothing cousin could have done such a thing.  Particularly when he was ten.  He had to be lying.

“He never told me.  Gobber did.  And he told me not to say anything to Hiccup because he said that he wanted to keep it a secret.  I never told him that I knew until today.  If you don’t believe us, ask Gobber.  And go away!  Our stew is getting cold!”  She shot a glare at Snotlout that could have melted basalt.

“Oh, and when we finish with your sword, check the blade.  I made it too,” Hiccup remarked, his face cooling a bit.  He was enjoying making Snotlout uncomfortable, although he might pay for it later.  “Fishlegs, check your dagger.  You’ll find my initials there, too.  Your spear heads as well, Ruff and Tuff.”

Fishlegs pulled out his dagger and held it near the candle, checking the blade.  Sure enough, the initials HHHIII were incised next to the hilt.  His eyes widened at the discovery.  The dagger was one of his most prized possessions, a Snoggletog gift from his parents.  “He’s right!”

“You guys couldn’t know.  You’ve never spent a minute watching Gobber and I work at the forge.  You just take it for granted.  Only Astrid has ever shown any interest in what it takes to make your weapons.  Not too bad for a useless fishbone, eh Snotface?”  Hiccup’s face took on an uncharacteristic smirk.

“Shut up, Hiccup.” Snotlout growled, his face reddening and shuffling a foot.  The teens left, muttering to themselves.  Only Fishlegs had a thoughtful look.  The others were scowling as they walked away.

Hakon and Ingrid walked up to the teen’s table as they began eating.  “Can we sit with you two for a moment?” Ingrid asked.

“Sure Mom, if you don’t mind me talking with my mouth full.  I’m really hungry, and this isn’t as good cold.”

Ingrid stared at the pair opposite her, casually eating their meal together as if it were the most natural thing on Midgard.  As if they’d been doing so for years.  “What is going on?” she asked, her brow furrowed.  “I thought that you had no interest in Berk boys, or in boys at all.”

Astrid chewed a mouthful of stew and swallowed, chasing it with a sip of ale.  “Maybe I’m just seeing Hiccup here in a new light,” she said casually, a calm expression on her face.  “He seems to be very talented in the forge.  He made a near duplicate of my first axe.  The only difference is a longer handle since I’m taller now.”  And the engravings , she added to herself.

“You really made her first axe?” Hakon asked Hiccup, bewildered, a look of utter disbelief on his face as he and Ingrid sat down opposite Astrid and Hiccup.  “When you were ten years old?  I can’t believe that a tiny ten year old like you were then could do work like that.”

Ingrid watched with interest, noting how close Astrid and Hiccup were sitting, their sides touching and their arms rubbing against each other.  Astrid seemed to be totally relaxed, as if such contact with the boy was the most natural thing in the world.

Hiccup took a swallow of his ale and said quietly, “If you don’t believe me or Astrid, ask Gobber.  I had already been working at the forge for two years.  It was my first solo project.  I greatly admire your daughter, Mr. Hofferson.  I did even then.  You do remember that we were best friends when we were little, don’t you?  That’s why I put special effort and care into making the axe.  Gobber did oversee my work, but he never touched the axe, except to inspect my work.”

Having no answer for that, Hakon turned to Astrid, his face beginning to redden in anger.  “Do you seriously want to spend time with the village laughingstock, daughter?  Think of how much that will hurt your reputation.  You will never be able to marry an eligible heir!”

“Dad, I’ve told you a thousand times that I don’t want to marry one of the heirs from the other tribes!  They’re nothing more than muscle-bound muttonheads!  Have you forgotten that Hiccup is the Heir to the Throne of Berk?” she remarked angrily, glaring at her father.  “Maybe I see something in him that no one else does!  For one thing, he is an amazing craftsman!”  For some reason, her father’s attack on Hiccup upset her far more than she expected.

“I should add that I’ve decided to train Hiccup in swordsmanship.  I’ve seen him practicing on his own in the forge when the workload was light.  He’s not bad, but he could use some work with a real opponent.  Practicing alone can only take him so far.  We could always use another defender in a pinch.”

Hiccup decided that it was time to speak up, particularly given her surprising statement about sword training.  After washing down a bite of barley cake with some ale, he said.  “Sir, as I said, I’ve admired Astrid for a long time now.  She is amazing, fierce, beautiful, fearless and oh so smart.  I’ve been too shy to ask her before, but I’ve asked her if I could court her and she said yes.”  The last was a bit of a lie, but it would shift the attention from Astrid.

“I forbid it!” Hakon growled.  “I know my daughter is amazing!  Far too amazing for the likes of you!  You never asked for my permission to court her!  Which I would have denied!”

“I’m an adult now, Dad.” Astrid said softly, impressed with Hiccup’s statement.  “It is my right to choose who I see, if anyone, as I’ve been saying for nearly a year now.”

Hakon looked as if he were going to explode, growing red in the face and staring daggers at Hiccup.  Ingrid placed a hand on her husband’s arm.  “Hakon, calm down,” she said softly.  “Isn’t this what we wanted?  He may be a bit scrawny, but he is Stoick’s son and the Heir.”  She looked at Astrid.  “May I see your axe, dear?”

Astrid handed the axe to her mother.  She examined it closely, finally looking at the engraved inscription.  The axe had been flipped since Snotlout had examined it.  “You wrote this?” she asked.  “I thought that it had the protection symbol on it.”  She showed the inscription to Hakon, who read it with raised eyebrows.

“The protection symbol is on the other side,” Hiccup replied.  “I was going to add “and most beautiful” to the inscription, but it made it too long.”  Astrid blushed when she heard that.

Ingrid flipped the axe and spotted the protection symbol.  She gave the entire axe a thorough scan, impressed with the quality craftsmanship.  “This is fine work, Hiccup,” she admitted.  “Just how long have you been making weapons rather than just servicing them?”

“Well, as I said, since I was ten.  I only did a few at first, still doing more repairs than anything else.  And making weapons isn’t that much different from repairing them.  Especially given how a lot of our tribe mistreats their weapons.  Actually, the first things that I made were nails.  Lots and lots and lots of nails.  I’m sure you know we do other metalwork as well.”

“Well, I’d say that someone who can do work like this is hardly useless,” Ingrid remarked thoughtfully.  Hakon gave a skeptical grunt.  

“That remains to be seen.   I still don’t believe that he made the axes.  To me he’s still useless.  The whole village thinks so!”

“Maybe that’s because of my failed dragon fighting inventions.  I was always eager to try them, and with all the damage they caused, I guess that everyone thought that messing up was all that I could do.” Hiccup said quietly, struggling to remain calm and not wanting to annoy Hakon further.  He realized that his normal sarcastic reply would only make things worse.

Hakon glowered at Hiccup, and then noticed that Astrid had slipped her arm around Hiccup’s shoulder.  She had a determined look on her face.  Hakon knew that his daughter was stubborn to a fault and was not going to back down on this.

Hakon stood and stared down menacingly at Hiccup.  Hiccup shrank back, only to be restrained by Astrid’s arm.  “I guess that nothing I say will change her mind,” he groused.  “But I’m watching you, boy!  You do anything that even upsets my daughter, and I’ll be all over you!  Chief’s son or not!”

He turned to Astrid.  “You finish your meal and get home soon!” he barked.  “This discussion isn’t finished!”

“Hakon, please…” Ingrid said in a pleading tone.  But Hakon had already turned and stomped out of the Great Hall.  She watched him leave the hall and then turned back to face Astrid, looking concerned.

“Astrid, give him time.  He’ll come around.  If you and Hiccup being together is what the gods will, he’ll have to.  Just take the time to be sure that this is what is right for you.  I’ll see you at home.  Don’t be too late.  It looks like we have dragon raid weather, and you need your sleep.”  Ingrid turned and left the hall.

Hiccup turned to Astrid, who still had her left arm around his shoulder.  He wore a thoughtful expression.  “Well, that was awkward.  And why do you still have your arm on my shoulder?  I mean, it’s nice, but they’re gone.”

“There are still a few people here.  It will make people wonder how long we’ve been a thing and how we’ve managed to hide it,” she said, her eyes bright and a small smile on her lips. “You know how Berkians like gossip.”

“In that case…”  Hiccup leaned over and planted a small kiss on her forehead.  “That should help too.  Thank you for standing up for me.”  He saw Astrid blush in the candlelight.  “We’d better finish our stew.  It’s already lukewarm.”

They sat quietly finishing their meal, each with their own thoughts.  Astrid was thinking that the first reveal of her new “relationship” had gone well.  Hiccup, although happy to have Astrid’s attention, was wondering what he’d gotten himself into and what his father would say when he found out.

When they finished, they took their bowls, spoons and mugs to the collection area, and then walked out of the hall.  Standing on the stairs, Astrid turned, cupped her hand under Hiccup’s chin and planted a small kiss on his cheek.  “Thank you, Hiccup.  This really means a lot to me.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to your door?  That will help the illusion,” Hiccup asked, a little disappointed that their evening together was ending.

“Maybe another time.  While I’d like that, I don’t want to make Dad angrier than he already is.  He’ll be watching, and he might come out after you.  Let’s wait until Mom talks him down.”

“Okay then.  Good night, Astrid,” Hiccup replied with a soft smile, giving her a kiss on the cheek for the benefit of anyone who might be watching.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They turned and walked in opposite directions toward their homes.

Chapter Text

Hiccup entered his home, hoping that Stoick was still busy with chief business and that he could go to his room and think about the amazing day that he’d had.  He frowned, worried about what his father might say if he’d heard about the evening’s events.  There was to be no easy escape.  It was like his Dad was waiting just inside the door to ambush him.  He was definitely not expecting the greeting that he received from his father.

“Well done, son!” Stoick boomed.  “I’m so proud of you.  How did you ever manage to snag the Hofferson girl?  She has fought off every other boy in the village, sometimes with the flat of that axe of hers.  She’s a fierce one!”

Hiccup flushed with embarrassment.  “W-what are y-you t-talking about Dad?” he stuttered, absently rubbing the back of his neck.

“Come on, son.  Hoark told me that he saw you two enter the Great Hall holding hands, and that she had her arm around you while you were eating.  No one else has been able to get near that feisty Valkyrie.  I mean, she’s even beat up Snotlout more than once.”  Stoick was wearing a huge grin, something Hiccup couldn’t remember seeing in ages.

“Well, no one has flirted more obnoxiously with her than Snotlout.  He had it coming.  And she has a mean right hook!  But she was just thanking me for making her a new axe,” Hiccup said with a sigh, hoping to escape his Dad’s attention.  He had too much to resolve in his mind.  Not to mention that Stoick would probably go overboard in his reaction to Hiccup seeing Astrid.  “She cracked her old axe beyond repair on a Gronkle during the last raid.”

“Come on son!  Don’t be bashful.  You just did something that makes your old man proud.  You know I’m expecting grandbabies at some time in the future!”  He stared expectantly at Hiccup, hoping for more details.

“Daaad!  Cut it out!  I’m out with Astrid once and you’re talking about grandbabies?  You’re getting way ahead of things.  Okay, she was so pleased with her new axe that I decided to take a chance and ask her if I could court her, and she said yes.”  “ Got to keep up the illusion,” he thought.  For Astrid.  “She even offered to help me with sword training.”

“Sword training?  Since when are you interested in sword training?” Stoick asked with a puzzled frown.

Hiccup sighed, just a little upset that his father seemed to know so little about his son.  “Dad, you almost never come by the forge, so you couldn’t know that I sometimes practice with a sword on slack times.  I’m big enough now that I can at least handle a sword.  I started doing it to test the balance on swords that needed extensive repair, and on swords that I have made.”

“You make swords?” Stoick asked, perplexed.  “And made Astrid’s axe!?!” he questioned with disbelief.  He had finally realized that Hiccup had claimed to have made Astrid’s new axe.

Hiccup let out an exasperated huff.  “I don’t believe it!  You’re so proud of me for going out once with Astrid, and yet you don’t have the faintest idea that I don’t just sharpen swords, restring bolas and maybe make nails at the forge, but actually make weapons ?”

Hiccup was starting to get red in the face. Raising his voice, he growled “For that matter, when have you ever come by the forge to see what your only son is doing?  Oh, yeah, I know!  NEVER!  Did you ever show the slightest interest in my training, other than chief training?  NO!”

Hiccup narrowed his eyes, becoming angrier by the minute.  He continued, practically snarling. “I’m sure that you don’t know that I made Astrid’s first axe when I was ten!  I’ve been making weapons along with Gobber for the last nine years!  I mean, you know I made all those dragon fighting gadgets, which, granted, didn’t work well, and yet you don’t know that I can do regular blacksmith work?  Really?  If you don’t believe me, ask Gobber!”

Hiccup was glaring at his father.  He wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming out of his ears.

Stoick stood silent, stunned by his son’s angry response, and just a little angered by it himself.  “Now wait just a minute, Hiccup!  That’s no way to talk to your father and your chief!”

“Dad, I’m sorry.  I’m glad that you’re happy that I’m seeing Astrid.  But everything else makes me think that you still feel that I’m useless since I don’t fight dragons, just like the rest of the village does.  Despite the fact that you’ve confined me to the forge during raids!  But you have NEVER taken a minute to see what your son can do in the forge.  Or for that matter, never took the time to even think about giving him weapons training or having someone else do it because you were too busy chiefing or “ cleaning up his messes!”, instinctively adopting his father’s accent for the last four words, balling his fists as he said it..

"Well, you haven’t had any of those to clean up for four years now, have you?”  Hiccup’s eyes blazed with an anger that Stoick had never seen in his son.  “Your only interest in your son seems to be that he doesn’t cause any problems!  Or maybe to be an ornamental heir at your side during a Thing!  Which, by the way, you have never once thanked me for playing that role when the other heirs are here.  You only blame me for whatever trouble they cause!  As if I could control that lot!  Their parents sure don’t!  Way to make me feel wanted, Dad!”  Hiccup’s frustrations with his father had finally exploded into the open.

Hiccup released a breath he’d been holding with an explosive sigh, releasing some of his anger.  He was beginning to feel ashamed that he had lost his temper.  “I’m going to bed, Dad.  It’s late, and it’s dragon raid weather,” he said more softly.  “I’ll probably have to be up early to go to the forge and fix all the weapons that this tribe seems prone to abusing.”  Without another word, Hiccup stomped up the stairs to his room, leaving a stunned Stoick behind in the main room.

Stoick watched wide eyed as his son disappeared into his room, his mouth hanging open at the sheer Viking rage that he had just heard from his son.  “ Does he really believe that I think that poorly of him ?” he thought sadly.  After all, he had expressed pride in hearing that Hiccup was seeing the feisty Shield Maiden.  And yet, Hiccup had made several points which had Stoick regretting things that he hadn’t done in the past.  He had never expressed any appreciation for Hiccup doing his part when the Chiefs and heirs of the other tribes were present for the occasional Thing.  He had only blamed him for the trouble that Camicazi caused when the Chief Bertha and her Bog Burglar advisors had visited.  Never done anything when Hiccup complained that Dagur was using him for a knife throwing practice target when Oswald and the Berserkers were present.  And truly, he had never paid any attention to Hiccup’s work at the forge, other than berating him for his dragon fighting inventions.  With an exhausted sigh, he turned and headed for his bed.  It was dragon raid weather after all.  Hiccup had been right about that.

Upstairs, Hiccup took off his boots and laid down on his bed, covering himself with a heavy fur.  He would stay dressed just in case of a dragon raid.  His mind was swirling.  What a day it had been!  Discovering a Night Fury possibly living in the cove.  Befriended and even being defended by a Terrible Terror.  Astrid asking him to be her boyfriend, albeit as a ruse to get her parents off her case about marriage.  And now this with his Dad.  Maybe he’d been too hard on his father.  But then, Stoick only seemed to express disappointment in his son, even when praising him for something.  His mind a swirling jumble, Hiccup slowly drifted off to sleep.

oOo 

Astrid cautiously entered her home, wondering if her parents were waiting to confront her after seeing her and Hiccup together in the Great Hall.  Her suspicions were confirmed.  She was greeted with “So you and Hiccup, eh?” from her mother, standing in the main room with her arms crossed.  Her Dad was nowhere in sight, probably out preparing for a possible dragon raid.  “When did this all happen?  Why, for Thor’s sake, would you have any interest in him when you could be with any of the other heirs in the Archipelago?”

Astrid couldn’t resist the opening.  “Are you including Camicazi in that group?  Really, Mother?”

“Don’t get snarky with me young lady,” Ingrid replied indignantly, giving her daughter a stern look.  “You know what I mean.”

“Okay, look.  I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now, ever since you and Dad have started trying to foist me off on all these knucklehead heirs from the other tribes,” Astrid replied with a huff.  “The other boys my age are all paired up already.  Even if they weren’t, I really couldn’t see myself with Tuffnut or Fishlegs, and I hate Snotlout.  He’s so obnoxious.”

“But why Hiccup, Astrid?  Everyone knows that he’s no Viking.  You could do so much better, with a much stronger warrior at your side,”  Ingrid asked, adopting a concerned look.

“You’re wrong, Mother!  So wrong!  He’s not useless like everyone thinks.  He is a great blacksmith and craftsman.  He’s smarter than any of the other boys on the island, combined, except maybe for Fishlegs.  He’s inventive, kind, modest and brave.  He is Stoick’s heir.  He has done well in that role in dealing with the other tribes at his Dad’s side.  And he’s kind of easy on the eyes,” she added softly.

“Okay, I’ll grant most of that, but brave?  Why do you think he’s brave?  He hides in the forge during dragon raids,” Ingrid observed with a doubtful frown.

“Have you forgotten that the Chief has a guard posted on the forge to keep him from trying dragon fighting inventions during the raids?” Astrid replied hotly, her cheeks reddening.  “He’s shown his bravery in other ways.  You know how much he’s been bullied over the years, beaten up by the other boys, even put down time and again by his own father !  He still finds it in himself to be kind to people, to be positive at least most of the time.  He hasn’t let himself get beaten down!  That takes courage, to come back time after time from all of the bullying and not being bitter.”

“What about the time he punched out Snotlout?” her mother challenged.

“I’ve heard that he was defending me !”  Astrid had just about had enough.  “Snot bullied him more than anyone else, him and his cronies.  But he took it, mostly because he couldn’t fight back against more than one.  On that day, Snot had made some especially crude comments about me.  Hiccup has seen what an obnoxious flirt that Snot is, how much I hate it, and those comments drove him over the edge!  And it ended most of Snot’s bullying.”

“Mom, all of your efforts to marry me off to another tribe have made me think a lot.   Don’t think that I haven’t noticed that Gothi refuses to let me take the provisionary Shield Maiden oath.  I’ve been of age for nearly a year now!”  Taking a defiant stance, Astrid’s face reddened with her upset at her mother.   “She wouldn’t do that unless you and Dad were having her block me.  She knows what a good warrior I am!”

“I don’t want to leave Berk.  This is my home!  It’s caused me to look at Hiccup with new eyes, and I kind of like what I see.  Plus, none of the heirs from those other tribes would let me continue to be a Shield Maiden.  They’d tie me down to be their little housewife, cleaning, cooking and raising children..  Hiccup wouldn’t do that!  He respects me!  That’s why I said yes when he asked me if he could court me.  Now if you don’t mind, I need to get some rest in case we have a dragon raid tonight.  Goodnight, Mom.”

With that, Astrid stomped up the stairs to her room, angry at her mother’s attitude towards Hiccup.  She carefully, almost reverently hung her new axe on its wall rack, removed her pauldrons, her spiked overskirt and boots, and climbed into bed.  Mostly dressed, she could be up and respond quickly if there was a dragon raid later in the night.  Going to sleep proved to be hard.  She was still seething over her mother belittling  Hiccup.  And she was confused.  This was supposed to be a fake relationship.  Why had she defended Hiccup so vigorously?  Granted, it made the pretend relationship seem more real to her mother, but why had her accusations made her so upset?  Those thoughts were swirling in her head as fatigue overtook her and she drifted off to sleep.

Downstairs, Ingrid Hofferson smiled to herself.  Her challenge to Astrid had worked.  Astrid’s strong response had proven that she did have feelings for the boy.  She just didn’t realize it yet.  If things worked out as she expected, her daughter would be the bride of Berk’s heir.  Now all she had to do was convince Hakon to back off and see where things went.

oOo

Hiccup was startled awake by the raid warning horn.  He felt groggy, having gotten far too little sleep.  Luckily, he had gone to bed fully dressed.  Throwing off his fur blankets, he threw on his boots and shot down the stairs and out the door past his father, who was grabbing his war hammer, without a word.  He raced past his fellow tribesmen already fighting off dragons, and past the giant braziers which were being raised up tall poles to provide light and some ability to see the night raiding dragons.  He arrived breathless at the forge a few minutes later.  Bucket had already arrived to stand guard at the door.  Gobber was starting the fire in the forge for the inevitable bent swords.

“Nice of yeh to show up,” he said.  He pointed to a sword in the repair queue.  “Sword.  Sharpen.  Now.”

“Really Gobber?  I’ve been doing this long enough that I know the drill.  And I’m not going to leave the forge.”  He grabbed the sword, hauled it over to the grindstone and started working the foot pedal to get the grindstone spinning.  Sparks flew as he expertly placed the sword on the stone and began sharpening it.  This was a task that he could accomplish with little thought after so long as Gobber’s apprentice.  As he worked, his mind drifted to Astrid, who was surely out fighting dragons with the others.  The thought worried him more than it ever had now that they were a (fake) couple. Fighting dragons was dangerous!  No matter how skilled a warrior one was, the unexpected could always happen.

“Man the hatch, Hiccup,” Gobber commanded as he replaced his hammer hand, which he’d been beating a red hot bent sword back into shape with, with his axe hand.  “They need me out there.”  Screaming his battle cry, Gobber limped into the fray.

Hiccup walked to the hatch and set the sword against the wall, leaning his chin on his elbows as he watched the battle unfold.  No one was there to get a new weapon, so all that he could do was wait and watch.

oOo 

The raid warning horn awaked Astrid from a fitful sleep.  Like Hiccup, she had gone to bed mostly dressed, minus her spiked overskirt, steel pauldrons and boots.  Swiftly donning her skirt, pauldrons and boots, she grabbed her axe from its wall hanger.  She took a couple of test swings before grabbing her shield and racing down the stairs and out of the Hofferson house.  As she ran to confront a raiding dragon near her home, she smiled at the thought of how perfectly balanced the new axe was, how it was like an extension of her arm.

Mindful of what she and Hiccup had discovered on the previous morning, she resolved to do as little harm to the raiding dragons as possible.  She would try to drive them off rather than kill them.  Her first encounter was with a Gronkle which was trying to make off with a rack of drying fish.  Swatting it across the ears with the flat of the axe, she momentarily stunned it.  Two more healthy swats persuaded the dragon to abandon the rack and seek an easier target.  Surprisingly, it didn’t try to hit her with a lava blast.

Astrid looked around to find another Viking to fight with.  Being alone was dangerous, even for Berk’s best young warrior.  Unfortunately, none were nearby.  In the distance, she spotted Stoick organizing the defense.  At least two Monstrous Nightmares were causing havoc near the yak farms.  Several Nadders were after the sheep, while others were busy setting fire to houses or going after the storehouses.  Astrid ran swiftly to defend a storehouse near the forge, which was surprisingly undefended.  She managed to slip into a Nadder’s blind spot unseen and swatted it across the face with the flat of her axe, much like she had done after falling on Hiccup in dragon training.  Strangely, the Nadder that was her target looked familiar.

Seeing that the Nadder was momentarily stunned, she pressed her attack on another Nadder.  Unfortunately, it was with a second one.  The pair both focused their attention on her, soon joined by the one that she had stunned momentarily.  They formed a circle around her, raising their tails with the spines deployed.  She was trapped!  Raising her shield in defense, she began to dodge spine shots, using her agility to dance out of the way and banging her axe on the shield to make noise and confuse the dragons.  She prayed to Thor for help, knowing that she couldn’t keep this up for long.

oOo

Stoick had left Haddock House shortly after his son.  In the middle of the village, he spotted a Nadder making off with a sheep.  He grabbed a nearby cart and flung it at the Nadder, scoring a hit and causing it to drop the sheep.  The tribesman who owned the cart, stared at his chief and shouted “Why do yeh always have to do that, Stoick??  Now I have to build me a new cart, again!  Do yeh have any idea how much the wheelwright charges for new wheels?!?”  This had happened more than once.

Stoick shot a withering glare at his tribesman, then softened his expression as he realized that the man had a point.  “Sorry, Bjørn!” he shouted over the din of the raiding dragons.  “I’ll pay for your new cart.  Maybe we can salvage some of the pieces.”

Then everyone ducked as a Zippleback exploded a nearby house, flinging flaming debris in every direction.  Absently brushing a bit of fiery debris from his shoulder, Stoick spotted one of his observers.  “What have we got?” he demanded.

“Gronkles. Nadders. Zipplebacks. Oh, and Hoark saw a Monstrous Nightmare.”

“Any Night Furies?”

“None so far,” the observer replied.

“Good.”

Stoick ran from spot to spot in the village, clubbing the occasional dragon with his hammer and rallying the defenders.

Someone cried “The Nadders have found the sheep!”  The sheep had been moved to a different pasture area on the lower reaches of the island, partially for a new grazing area and partially to confuse attacking dragons which seemed to remember where their targets usually were.

“Counterattack with the catapults!”  Stoick roared.  “Netmen!  With me!”  Stoick was hoping to capture some of the Nadders, preventing them from making off with the sheep and potentially providing training dragons, meat and trade items like scales, hides, teeth and claws.  They raced to the lower pasture areas and managed to net a clutch of Nadders which had surrounded a small group of sheep.  The Vikings leapt upon the Nadders, some trying to hold their jaws closed and others attempting to tie them up.  This was dangerous work.  Nadders had tails studded with poisonous spines which they could fling with deadly accuracy.

One of the Nadders let out a gout of flame.  “Mind yourselves!”  Stoick shouted.  “The devils still have some juice in them!”

The Vikings were clearly fighting a losing battle.  More and more dragons left hauling away sheep, yaks and loaded fish drying racks.  Other dragons had ripped the roof from a storehouse and were making off with barrels of dried fish and salted meats.  Other dragons, using their flames to attract fish to the surface, were plying the waters just off Berk and grabbing anything they could catch.  One Nightmare hit the water and surfaced with a large shark in its talons.  Only the great whales were safe from the attacks. 

oOo 

In the cove, Night Stalker was huddled in his cave, trying to fight off the Queen’s calls for him to join the battle.  He had located a spot with a particularly rich deposit of copper veins in the ceiling and the walls of the cave by concentrating on the Queen’s signal strength as he moved from place to place in his lair.  Despite the shielding, the Queen’s calls were causing pain in his head.  This was a normal side effect of resisting her call to action.  The other dragons in the cove, with weaker wills, had already succumbed to the Queen’s siren call and departed their caves to join the attack.  The Queen was very angry at the Night Fury, furious that he was fighting off her calls to action.

“Not this time, Queeny!”  he thought grimly through the pain.  The Queen only heard a whisper of the thought.  The shielding worked both ways.  But what she did hear as but a whisper only enraged her further.  She amplified her calls to the Night Fury, which had the side effect of weakening her control of the dragons attacking Berk.  There were limits to even her abilities.  Back on Dragon Island, she roared in frustration, breaking her concentration and further weakening her calls to Night Stalker and the attacking dragons.

Night Stalker gave a sardonic gummy smile.  He was frustrating the Queen!  And that frustration was not only weakening her calls to him, he could sense that she was losing control of the dragons attacking Berk.  If only he were stronger, maybe he could break her stranglehold on the others.  But, even without the cave’s shielding, resisting the Queen’s calls was becoming easier.

He could sense some of the dragons which were attacking the village, including his friends from the cove.  He also sensed the presence of three Changewings hovering strategically over the battle, invisible to the Vikings, relaying information to the Queen which she used to direct the other raiding dragons.

oOo

Back at the forge, Hiccup remained at his station at the hatch with the freshly sharpened sword leaning against the wall at his side.  He watched the dragons as they swirled about the village, grabbing whatever livestock they could or setting houses afire, looking for more patterns in the attacks.  He was beginning to notice how the raiding dragons shifted their attacks in response to the movements of the villagers.  Were there other dragons on site directing the attack, he wondered.

He also observed his fellow villagers fighting the dragons and took note of what tactics seemed to be the most effective.  Maybe he could figure out more effective defense patterns based on what the dragons did most often.

As he watched, he heard a frustrated cry which sounded very much like Astrid in distress.  He leaned forward and spotted her surrounded by three Nadders at a nearby storehouse.  He grabbed the freshly sharpened sword and confronted Bucket.

“Astrid’s in trouble!  We have to help her!”  Before Bucket could react, he sprinted out the door past his guard and headed desperately for the endangered Shield Maiden.  Surprised, but not wanting to fail his duty, Bucket lumbered after the slender blacksmith, swinging his club.

Hiccup raced towards the Astrid and the Nadders.  He barely slowed as he passed one Nadder, swatting the blue and gold dragon on the flank with the flat of the sword and attracting its attention.  After the events of the past morning, Hiccup was reluctant to seriously harm a dragon.  And there was something vaguely familiar about this particular Nadder.  The Nadder responded with a volley of spines which barely missed him.  He swatted the dragon hard on the side of its face with the flat of his sword, stunning it, as he changed direction to slip between two Nadders towards Astrid. 

Hiccup was using agility and speed to evade the Nadders’ attacks.  A blast of flame from a second Nadder barely missed him, earning the dragon a sharp swat on the nose with the flat of his sword.  The impact caused the Nadder to shake its head in confusion.  It seemed to lose concentration, allowing Astrid to swat the third Nadder across the face with the flat of her axe.  At that moment, Bucket joined the fray, clubbing the blue and gold Nadder which had fired its spines at Hiccup unconscious.

Then, the remaining two Nadders shuddered and stopped their attacks.  They looked confused for a moment, and then took to the air and headed away from the island along with the remainder of the attackers.  Some carried food, others were empty taloned.

The sudden, unusual end to the attack surprised the Vikings.  It was unheard of for dragons to leave with empty talons.  Some Berkians lost their balance when they swung their weapon at a dragon that suddenly retreated.  Others yelled insults at the retreating dragons.  Still others stood frozen, stunned by the sudden change of events.  Hiccup watched the retreat, his eyes wide with surprise.  He had noted a change in the eyes of the nearest Nadder, its irises going from a small opening to a wide-eyed look, and idly wondered what that meant.

He walked over to Astrid, who was leaning on her axe handle and panting from the exertion of dodging Nadder fire and spines.  Her shield was studded with Nadder spines.  “Are you alright, Astrid?”  Hiccup asked, concern in his voice.

Astrid looked up at the sound of his voice.  She hadn’t seen who had come to her aid.  Her eyes widened when she saw that it was Hiccup who had come to help her, sword in hand.

“Hiccup?  What are you doing here?  You don’t fight dragons!”

“I saw that you were in trouble from the forge,” Hiccup replied, with a sigh of relief.  Astrid appeared to be unhurt.  “There was no way that Bucket was going to stop me from getting to you.  I needed to help my girlfriend.  Are you alright?  Did the Nadder hit you with any spines?”

“I think I’m good,” Astrid replied shakily.  Three to one odds were daunting even for Berk’s indomitable Shield Maiden.  The close call had shaken her up a bit.  She looked around.  “It looks as if the attack has broken up.”  The last few dragons were already some distance away, heading away from the island.  She didn’t think to note the direction of their flight.  Neither did Hiccup.

Hiccup, always observant of Astrid, noted that she seemed to be a little shaken up from the Nadder attack.  “How about I walk you home?” he suggested.

Astrid thought about it for a minute.  “You really don’t have to,” she answered.  “I can make it back on my own.”  She thought  that having Hiccup walk her back would make her look weak to her fellow villagers and damage her reputation.

“I’d like to anyway.  Besides, it might help convince people that we’re a couple now.” “ And it might help make you realize that we should be a real couple ,” he thought.

Astrid considered that for a moment.  “Okay,” she said.

Still holding the sword, Hiccup reached for Astrid’s hand.  After a moment’s hesitation, she holstered her axe on her back and took Hiccup’s hand.  They slowly walked up the hill toward Hofferson House.  As they walked, Hiccup turned to Astrid and asked, “Did that blue and gold Nadder look familiar to you?”

Astrid thought for a moment.  She had been too busy trying to fight off the three dragons that she hadn’t paid that much attention.  “You know, I think you’re right.  It did look familiar.  Now that I think about it, it looked like the one that I swatted with my axe in your shield during dragon training.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.  It was one of the ones that escaped shortly after you won dragon training.  I wonder why it came back?”

“Another dragon mystery to think about,” Astrid replied tiredly.

The pair walked the rest of the way to Astrid’s house in silence.  Astrid was again wondering why holding hands with Hiccup was causing her to have strange fluttering feelings in her chest and tingles running up her arm.  Hiccup was feeling much the same, but he knew what was causing those feelings.  He was starting to realize that he really was in love with Astrid.

When they reached the Hofferson house, Astrid stood on her tiptoes and gave Hiccup a slow, chaste kiss on the lips which he returned before she broke contact.  Astrid followed the kiss with a tight hug.  Hiccup slipped his arms around her waist and held her tightly.  “Thank you for coming to save me,” she whispered in his ear.  “That was very brave and unexpected.”

“I would do anything for you, Milady,” Hiccup replied.

Letting go from the hug, they stood there for a moment, sapphire blue eyes meeting emerald green, Hiccup’s hands on Astrid’s shoulders and her hands on his waist.  What were these strange feelings that she was having?  Unknown to the pair, Ingrid Hofferson was watching them from the door of their house with a satisfied smile.  Her little girl had a boyfriend, even if she didn’t realize it yet.  Ingrid could tell that sparks were beginning to fly between the two.  She quietly closed the door and waited for her daughter.

Astrid finally let go of Hiccup’s waist, confused by what she was feeling.  “Well, goodnight then, Hiccup.  Thanks again for rescuing me.”

“It was nothing,” Hiccup replied modestly.  “Will I see you later for breakfast?”

“Sure.  Come by after you wake and we’ll go to the Great Hall.”  She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, whispering “After all, we have to keep up the illusion.”  At that, she turned and entered her house, closing the door after turning, waving and winking at Hiccup.

Astrid’s mom was waiting inside the door.  “So, how come Hiccup walked you home after the raid?  I thought that he was confined to the forge during raids by the Chief.”

“He is, but he ran to my rescue when I got surrounded by three Nadders near the forge,” Astrid replied with a soft smile.

“ Hiccup rescued you?” Ingrid remarked with some disbelief.

“Yeah, he did, swatting at the Nadders with a sword that he brought from the forge.  I didn’t know he could be that brave against dragons, so fast, so agile,” she sighed.

“Your father and I are still having a hard time believing that you two have become a couple.  I mean, you’ve rejected every boy on Berk who has tried to court you and are fighting us on marrying one of the more Viking-like heirs.  Granted, he’s the Chief’s son, but you could do better.  He’s so scrawny.  Hardly a Viking at all.  Plus, I don’t recall him ever showing any interest in you or any of the other girls.”  She made these statements despite what she’d seen from the door and her earlier argument with Astrid.  She wanted to challenge her daughter again to test her suspicions.

Astrid bristled at her mother’s comments.  “You’re starting with this again?  He’s not scrawny anymore!  Have you seen him work iron in the forge?  It takes muscle to work the forge all day!  Sure, he’s slender and not buff.  But he works hard, he’s kind and thoughtful, smart and caring.  Not a muttonhead like Snotlout or Dogsbreath.  And he proved tonight that he has enough courage to fight dragons!  He told me this morning that he’s loved me for years but was just too shy to do anything about it.”  “Until I asked him to be my fake boyfriend,” she added in her thoughts.

Ingrid was taken aback yet again by Astrid’s strong defense of Hiccup.  Her admission about Hiccup’s feelings was new. Astrid’s responses only added to her suspicions that her daughter really did have feelings for the young Heir.  “Okay, daughter.  Maybe we’re wrong,” she admitted.  “Let’s just see where this goes.  You should get some rest.  You had a hard fight tonight.”

Astrid was still steaming from her mother’s comments.  “Fine!  And just so you know, we’re going to meet for breakfast.  He’ll be by later in the morning.”  At that, she stomped up the stairs to her room, still fuming and more than a little confused.  Why had she defended Hiccup with such vigor again?  What were these strange feelings she got when they touched?  This was supposed to be a sham relationship, just to get her off the hook of an arranged marriage.  She couldn’t be falling for him, could she?  She changed into her night clothes, blew out the candle, and crawled into bed, covering herself with her bed furs.  She was more tired than she realized.  As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about Hiccup charging to her rescue, his strong jaw set with determination, his emerald eyes gleaming in the firelight.

Downstairs, Ingrid smiled to herself.  It seemed to her as if Astrid might finally, really be having feelings for a boy, even if she didn’t realize it herself.

oOo

Hiccup slowly walked back to the forge, carrying the sword that he’d used to defend Astrid.  He was thinking about what had just happened.  He knew that this was supposed to be a fake relationship, but it was becoming more and more real to him, and it seemed to be the same for Astrid.  “ No, no, that can’t be real,” he thought, shaking his head.  He decided that he would sleep in his room in the forge.  Besides, he needed to return the sword that he’d used.

As he approached the forge, he saw the Nadder that Bucket had knocked unconscious and a reddish Monstrous Nightmare being netted to be hauled off by yak teams to the arena.  He stopped and examined the blue and gold Nadder more carefully.  It did look like the one from training, he thought.

As he entered the forge, Hiccup came face to face with Gobber.  Bucket was gone, having presumably returned to his farm.

“Yeh didna bank the fires before yeh left, Hiccup,” Gobber scolded.

“There wasn’t time,” Hiccup replied.  “Astrid was in trouble, and there was no one else near enough to get to her in time.  I didn’t even think about anything else.”

“I know.  Bucket told me, and I saw the tail end of the fight.  Looks like yeh got it bad, Hiccup,” Gobber replied with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows.  “Looks like it takes a threat to yer lass to bring out the Viking in yeh.  If yeh’d fought like that in dragon training, yeh could’ve won.  I’m proud of yeh, boy.”

“Well, I was a lot smaller back then.  I’m a little bigger and a bit stronger.  You do remember what you told me back then during an attack. ‘Yeh can’t lift a hammer.  Yeh can't swing an axe.  Yeh can't even throw one of these,’ meaning a bola,” Hiccup recalled, doing a credible job of imitating Gobber’s speech patterns.

“Aye, yeh’ve grown alright.  But why didn’t yeh kill the Nadder?”  Gobber was a bit confused.

“There wasn’t time.”  Hiccup didn’t want to let on that he didn’t think that he could kill a dragon anymore.  “I needed to distract the dragons and get to her.  Stunning them was good enough.”

“Aye, it worked out,” Gobber admitted.  “And Bucket is already telling everyone he sees how you raced to fight those Nadders and protect Astrid.  I even heard some whispers about “The Fighting Fishbone” on my way back to the forge.  Yer reputation may be changing, lad.”

“Great,” Hiccup groaned.  “Can’t wait to see where that goes.”  He let out a huge yawn, which Gobber noticed with a raised eyebrow.

“Mind if I sleep in my room here tonight?” Hiccup asked.  “I really don’t feel up to going home, and we’ll have a lot of work to do after breakfast later.”

“Sure,” Gobber replied.  At that, Hiccup went back to his room, gathered his furs, and curled up on the floor in the corner to go to sleep like he’d done countless times in the past.  As he laid there awaiting sleep to overtake him, he pondered the events of the day.  It had been eventful, to say the least.  His head was spinning with everything.  Meeting a Night Fury and living to tell the tale.  Befriending a Terrible Terror.  Astrid asking him to be her fake boyfriend.  Dinner with Astrid, her arm around him.  His Dad’s reaction to him and Astrid.  Letting loose on his Dad, something he was beginning to regret.  Saving Astrid from the Nadders, then walking her home.  He couldn’t remember a day in his life which had been more eventful.

oOo

Stoick made his way back to Haddock House after giving directions to the cleanup crews to be started later in the morning.  Entering the house, he made his way upstairs to Hiccup’s bedroom, figuring that he would be back given the amount of time since the raid ended.  Finding the room empty and the bed made, Stoick decided that his son must have decided to sleep at the forge, something he often did after early morning dragon raids.

Several things were puzzling the chief.  The raid had ended strangely.  There had never been a dragon raid that had ended that abruptly.  He had also heard from Bucket that Hiccup had left the forge to fight three Nadders which had Astrid surrounded.  Surely that wasn’t true.  Bucket sometimes got confused, and no one else had seen Hiccup leave the forge since he’d been assigned to keep Hiccup inside.  He’d ask Gobber about that later.  Beyond that, his mind continued to swirl with all the things that Hiccup had said to him earlier.  Had he really been such a neglectful father?  Had he really hurt his son that much?

The chief shook his head tiredly.  “ I’m too tired to work this out now ,” he thought.  “It can wait until morning.”   With that, he prepared for bed, and made ready to sleep.  Before falling quickly into a deep slumber, he thought, “ Dragon fighting isn’t as easy as it used to be.  Maybe I’m getting too old for this.”

oOo

Back in the cove, Night Stalker let out a huff of relief as Crusher and Spew and Spark returned to their caves. But where were Stormfly and Firestorm?  He reached out with his mind, knowing that his range, while gradually increasing, was still limited.  He finally caught a brief whiff of Firestorm’s despairing thoughts and an image of a room with four walls.  “Great,” he thought with Hiccup-like sarcasm.  “The Vikings caught him.” No sign of Stormfly, however.  Concentrating harder, he finally caught the faintest hint of Stormfly waking up, also a captive.

Things couldn’t be worse.  As captives of the Vikings, it was likely that they wouldn’t last long.  But at least they were free of the Queen and any danger of being eaten.  Wondering if the little Viking and the girl would come back any time soon, he began to form a plan to enlist their help to free his friends.  While the odds were slim, it was his only hope.

Shifting his thoughts to how abruptly the raid ended, Night Stalker realized that his mental battle with the Queen must have helped to end it early.  He began to wonder if he could become strong enough mentally to shield other dragons from the Queen’s thoughts and free them.  The idea was definitely worth exploring.

Chapter Text

A loud clanging began to echo through the forge, slowly awakening Hiccup from a deep slumber in his work room.  He cast off his fur blanket and rose slowly and stretched, stiff from sleeping on the hard stone floor.  “ I need to make myself a proper bed here, ” he thought.  “ I’ve done this far too often to keep sleeping on the floor.”

Yawning and bleary-eyed, he walked into the forge where Gobber was hammering a red-hot bent sword on an anvil to straighten it.  He noted that it was already well past dawn.

“Is it still alright if I go to the Great Hall for some breakfast before starting work?” he asked.  Gobber had seen him enter the forge and had paused his work on the sword.  He thought about teasing Hiccup about his late wakeup, and then decided against it.

“Aye, that’s fine laddie,” he replied.  “Just dinna take too long.  We’ve a lot to do.  I swear most of these muttonheads have no idea how to properly use a weapon” gesturing towards a stack of bent swords, broken spears, and a couple of cracked maces.

“Well, in all fairness, Gobber, dragons are pretty tough on weapons.  Especially Gronkles,” Hiccup replied with a small smirk, even though he shared his mentor’s low opinion of how many of the tribe treated their weapons.  And their tools.  “I’ll try not to take too long, but I am going to see Astrid for breakfast.  That close call last night seems to have shaken her up a bit.”

“I guess that’s okay, laddie,” he replied.  “By the way, did she like her new axe?”

“Well, at first she was upset that it wasn’t the one that I made for her nine years ago.  But yes, she did.  Very much.  You know, you did let it slip sometime back that I made the first axe.  She told me.  You know that was supposed to be our little secret until I decided to tell her,” Hiccup said with a small smile.

“But, but..” Gobber sputtered, remembering telling her under the influence of too much mead.  “I’m sorry, Hiccup.”

“That’s okay, Gobber.  I don’t mind.  I probably should have told her myself long ago.  I think she liked the fact that I’m the one that made it for her.”

“Thanks, Hiccup.”  Gobber was relieved that his apprentice was not upset about the inadvertent disclosure.  “Say ‘hi’ to yer lassie for me, okay?”

“Sure, Gobber.  And I promise not to take too long with breakfast.”

Gobber nodded to the reply with slightly raised eyebrows.  He was not sure that Hiccup could keep that promise.  Youngsters in love had a way of losing track of time, after all.

At that, Hiccup left the forge and headed for Astrid’s house.  As he walked towards her home, he wondered how she had slept, and how she would be feeling.  He was betting that she would be just as tired as he was.  She might not even be up yet.  He was wrong.  When he reached her house, he found Astrid standing at the front door, arms crossed and a slight frown on her face.  She greeted him with “You’re awfully late, Hiccup.  I’ve been waiting for you.”  A small smirk on her face and a glint in her eyes convinced Hiccup that she wasn’t entirely serious.

“I’m sorry, Milady. Sleeping on the floor in the forge is so comfortable that I just couldn’t wake up,” he snarked.

“You didn’t go home after the raid?”  Astrid asked, her eyes widening at the revelation.

“Nah.  I had to return the sword to the forge.  Besides, I’ve done this a lot.  As usual, I ended up sorting all the damaged weapons after a raid while I was waiting for Gobber to return.  By the time everything was turned in and sorted, it was easier to just sleep there than go home.  You can’t believe how many damaged weapons we need to service after a raid!  But enough about me.  How are you feeling?  You seemed a bit shaken up last night.”

“I’m okay, Hiccup.  Thanks again for coming to help me with those Nadders.”  She walked up to Hiccup and slipped an arm through his.  “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

As they started up the hill, Astrid was again feeling fluttering in her chest and tingles in her arm as she and Hiccup walked arm in arm towards the Great Hall.  Trying to ignore the feelings, she asked.  “So, how did you get Bucket to let you out of the forge?”

“I guess I didn’t give him a chance to stop me.  I saw that you were in trouble, yelled to him that you needed help, and got out the door before he could move to block it.  He had no choice but to follow.  Sometimes being slender and quick can be a real advantage.”

As they continued to walk, Astrid noticed that something seemed to be troubling Hiccup.  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Hiccup mumbled in reply.

Astrid turned and punched Hiccup on the shoulder that was holding her other arm.

“Ow!  What was that for?”  Hiccup cried.

“You’re not telling me the truth!  Spill, Haddock!”

“Okay, Okay.  You’ve really got a mean punch, you know that?”

“If you don’t tell me right now what’s bothering you, you’re going to get another, mister!” Astrid replied, more sharply than she had intended.

“Well, there are a couple of things.  First, I hope Dad isn’t there.  I kind of told him off last night.”

“Why?” Astrid asked, a little perplexed.  She stopped walking and faced him.  “I mean, I know you two don’t get along that well, but I can’t imagine you doing that.”

“He congratulated me on winning your hand and was wondering when he was going to see grandbabies!  I mean, nothing else that I do impresses him.  He either ignores me or berates me for my failures as a Viking.  I’m seen out once with you, and I’m the son of the year!”

“Come on, Hiccup!  That’s not so bad.  It means that our little masquerade is really working.”  Astrid smiled happily at that thought.  “What’s the other thing?”

“Facing the others after last night.  I don’t think anyone will believe that I fought the Nadders to help you!  They’ll just say that I made it all up.  Especially Snotlout.  He’ll bug me about that, and about being with you.  I mean, I guess that I could take it, but he is just so annoying.  He never knows when to leave well enough alone.  I know that word about the fight is spreading.  Gobber told me that Bucket was telling everyone that he sees about me attacking the Nadders.  You know how often people disbelieve what Bucket says.  And as I was walking towards your house, I saw people pointing at me and muttering to each other.  I can guess what they were saying.”

“Just leave that to me.  I can convince Snotlout, and any other doubters.  Besides, that was really brave of you to come to my rescue.  But how did you know just where to hit the Nadders to stun them?  You never completed Dragon training.”  Astrid asked with a puzzled expression.

“Oh, that wasn’t that hard after watching how you handle Nadders in Dragon training,” Hiccup replied with his signature lop-sided smile.  “Even the first time, when you swatted that Nadder with your axe stuck in my shield.”

“You’ve been watching me during Dragon Training?” Astrid questioned with wide eyes.  “How?  I’ve never seen you in the stands…”

“I know a couple of places around the arena that I can watch without being easily seen,” Hiccup replied, just a little smugly.  “You mentioned that I’ve become pretty stealthy.  Avoiding bullies can help a little hiccup to learn to be sneaky.  And more to the point, you are so focused when you are training the youngsters that you rarely look up.  I’m sure that the skalds would be writing sagas about how you move with your axe if they took the time to watch you as I do.  You are poetry in motion.”

Astrid flushed bright red at that statement, more than a little embarrassed.  “You watch me that often when I’m training?”

“It hasn’t been all that often given all the work in the forge.  But what better thing could I do when I’m not busy but spend time watching the most beautiful Shield Maiden on Midgard training her students or training alone?  Besides, all of that watching allowed me to make the adjustments to your new axe to make it a perfect fit to the current you.”

Astrid gave Hiccup a look tinged with a bit of awe.  “You can tell all that just by watching me swing the axe?”

“Sure, Milady.  Your movements tell me just how well the axe is balanced, and what adjustments I needed to make to fit the current you.”

At that Astrid said nothing, blushing a little.  She didn’t realize that Hiccup had watched her that much.  His crush on her was too real.  How could she possibly go through this fake relationship without hurting him deeply?

They walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall in silence, still arm in arm, ignoring the whispers from their fellow villagers that followed them.

The first person to see them enter the Great Hall was Snotlout.  And to top it off, Ruffnut was behind him.  It was just like he was waiting to ambush them at breakfast.  “ Of course it had to be him,” Hiccup thought with disgust.  “ I knew it.  The gods still hate me.”

“What’s this I hear about you saving Astrid from some Nadders?” Snotlout snarked.  “Did you give Bucket a barrel of mead to tell that little story?  Everyone knows that Useless can’t fight dragons.  Hel, he can’t even handle a sword.  I still don’t believe that he made your axe, Astrid, let alone the other weapons.  He just bribed Gobber to engrave his initials on them.   Really Astrid, you’re seriously still spending time with this loser instead of a real Viking like me?”

At this statement, Ruffnut’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and her face turned red, followed by a glare at Snotlout that he didn’t see.  Someone was about to be pranked.

Hiccup balled his fists in anger, his knuckles turning white at the strain.  He had known this was coming.  Astrid tightened her grip on his arm and, with a sweet smile tinged with just a little menace, replied, “It’s true.  He did race to my rescue.  He’s really fast!  He stunned and distracted two of the Nadders that were surrounding me long enough to let me hit the third one and get away.  Then they just flew off.  At least the two that escaped being knocked out.  And if you don’t believe me, ask Gobber.  He saw the whole thing.”

Snotlout rocked back on his heels, momentarily stunned by the revelation.  But his arrogance returned quickly.  After all, there was no way that Useless could handle a sword.  He’d show everyone!  Suddenly he swung his arm at Hiccup, mimicking a sword strike.  Much to Snotlout’s surprise, Hiccup swung his free left arm to block the strike and, freeing his right from Astrid, mimicked a dagger strike to Snotlout’s gut with blazing speed.  “You’re dead, Snotlout,” Hiccup growled.  “Or you would be if that hand had been holding a dagger like it would have in a real fight.”

Before Snotlout could reply, Ruffnut sauntered up to Hiccup and wrapped her hands around the bicep on Hiccup’s left arm and squeezed.  Surprised by the hard muscle, she smiled seductively at Hiccup and purred, “Forge work has given you some muscle, Hiccup.  I like that.”  The last three words came out breathy.  She reached down and ran her hands across Hiccup’s chest and down to his abdomen before he, Astrid or Snotlout could react.  Her fingers traced the muscles in his abdomen.  What she felt led to a lecherous smirk. “Hmmmm.  Our little Hiccup isn’t so little anymore,” she purred.  “Me likey!”  Operation Prank Snotlout had commenced.  Ruff thought about moving her hand lower but decided against it, noticing the way that Astrid had begun to finger her axe handle.    

Astrid glared at Ruff and snarled, “Back off, Ruff!  He’s MINE!”  She grabbed one of the horns on Ruff’s helmet and dragged her none too gently to one side.  “Besides, you’re Snotlout’s girl!”  Snotlout still hadn’t said anything, a stunned look on his face, more than a bit surprised by what had just happened.  Shaking himself back to awareness, he grabbed Ruffnut’s arm and started to drag her towards the servers.  “Come on, Princess.  Let’s get breakfast.”  Snotlout didn’t realize that Ruff had just pranked him, and unintentionally, Astrid.

Ruffnut fell into step beside Snotlout and wrapped an arm possessively around his waist.  “Aw, I was just having a little fun, Snottykins.  Just testing the waters.  I think Astrid really does have a thing for the fishbone.  Did you hear how she snarled at me?  Our little Hiccup is not so little anymore.  And he really does have some muscle hidden away there.”

At that Snotlout snorted, “They still can’t compare to these,” flexing his arms and kissing his biceps.

“Eeewww!  Do you still have to do that, Snotpuffin?”  Ruffnut rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s move.  “Everyone knows that you are buff and ripped.  That move is getting a little old.  And as I recall, he did knock you out a while back.  Not to mention just getting the drop on you.”

“Shut up, Ruff,” Snotlout grumbled, but decided to leave it at that.  No sense in starting a spat.

As the pair moved to get their food, Astrid and Hiccup, arm in arm again, watched from the hall entrance.  Astrid was still seething.  “The nerve of her!” she hissed.

Hiccup leaned over and whispered into Astrid’s ear, “That’s very convincing, Milady.  Way to sell that we’re a real couple!”  He looked around the Great Hall to see who might be there.  Luckily, neither Astrid’s parents nor Stoick were anywhere to be seen.  Snotlout and Ruffnut were the only teens who were present.  Fishlegs and Tuffnut must be off somewhere, maybe up early for chores.  “ There was a benefit to sleeping in ,” he thought thankfully.

Astrid’s eyes widened slightly at Hiccup’s comment.  Why had she reacted so strongly to Ruff’s actions?  It’s not as if he was really her boyfriend.  Why was she being so possessive?

As they looked around the hall, Hiccup and Astrid noticed that the villagers who were present had expressions ranging from amused to shocked to downright hostile.  Many were beginning to wonder how long Hiccup and Astrid had been hiding a relationship.  For having just come out as a couple in public, all of the touching, not to mention Astrid’s reactions to various people the night before and this morning’s incident with Ruffnut made it seem like they had been together much longer.  Phlegma the Fierce was watching the couple with a thoughtful expression, having seen Hiccup’s counter to Snotlout’s strike.  

The most hostile adult was Mildew, one of the elders.  He was glaring at them as they walked to the serving line.   It was a bad omen, sure to lead to trouble later.  Mildew seemed to hate everything about Hiccup for reasons he couldn’t understand. Hiccup knew that Mildew thought he should have been floated out to sea at birth because he was a runt  Hiccup also knew that Mildew resented being moved to the outskirts of the village by Stoick, but he didn’t know the reasons or why Mildew would take that out on him rather than Stoick.  An easier target, maybe to get back at Stoick through his son?  And Mildew hated dragons with a passion.  Maybe he resented Hiccup because his dragon fighting weapons always failed.  It was a mystery.  Hiccup decided that he should ask Stoick about this.

What Hiccup didn’t know was that, having swung his multiarmed trebuchet after the first shot to try and fend off the dragons attacking the yak farms, he had grossly overshot his target, damaging both Mildew’s house and injuring Fungus, Mildew’s pet sheep.  To add insult to injury, Stoick refused to have Hiccup repair the damage.  

Hiccup chuckled quietly and said, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.  What do you usually have for breakfast?”

“Well, I usually have skyr with fruit and nuts.  Of course, this time of year things are limited.”

“Wow, Astrid!  That’s what I like for breakfast as well.  We have something in common.  Although I do sometimes like a little smoked salmon on my skyr.

They walked over to the servers, and Astrid released Hiccup’s arm.  Both were glad that no one else had confronted them, despite Mildew glaring daggers at them.  Surprisingly, there was a good selection of dried fruit, hazelnuts and walnuts available.  Each got a large bowl of skyr.  Astrid sprinkled ground hazelnuts, dried raspberries and some dried blackberries on her skyr while Hiccup added walnuts and dried apple slices to his, along with a little smoked salmon.  Each grabbing a mug of watered mead and wooden spoons, they found a table to themselves and sat down to eat.  Astrid scooted close to Hiccup so that their hips and shoulders were touching, further selling the illusion.  Hiccup sighed contentedly, savoring the warmth of Astrid’s hip and shoulder against his.  This was even better than he had ever dreamed starting a relationship with Astrid could be.  He wondered if she really was just faking things.  Astrid felt a similar comforting warmth, as she had when she had linked arms with Hiccup at her house.  Her mind was reeling at the thought, wondering if the confusing sensations meant that she was developing real feelings for Hiccup.

They finished their breakfast quickly in companionable silence.  They both had a lot to do with cleanup, dragon training and weapons repair.  Hiccup was already thinking of a late day trip to the cove to do a little cave exploring.  And as they ate, each was occasionally thinking that having breakfast together like this was a very nice change.

In the background, they could hear occasional bits of quiet conversation and muttering.  Some of it was about the two of them.  It seemed that their sudden togetherness had become quite the topic of village gossip.  Most of the comments that they heard were disbelieving.  Some of the mutters were angry.  Astrid thought she heard Mildew mutter something about having Stoick put a stop to this.

Other things that they caught snatches of were doubting that Hiccup had saved Astrid.  Some, who had been in the Great Hall for dinner and had overheard the conversation about Hiccup’s forge skills, were not so quietly mumbling that there was no way that Useless had such abilities.  Astrid and Hiccup both tried to avoid reacting to the skeptics but filed the thoughts away to be dealt with later.

When they finished eating, they deposited their dishes and spoons in the cleaning basket and left the Great Hall hand in hand, heading for the forge.  Both were determined to sell the relationship as real.  The forge was on the way to the arena, so it wasn’t out of Astrid’s way.  As they walked down the hill towards the forge, Astrid suddenly stopped and turned to face Hiccup.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Hiccup looked at her, puzzled.  “Sure,” he finally replied.

“Do you feel anything odd when I touch you?” she asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Hiccup questioned back, thinking of the little tingles that her hand in his were sending up his arm as well as the butterflies in his stomach.  “Do you feel anything different when you touch me?”

Astrid stood quietly for a moment.  She had really wanted him to answer the question.  She felt uneasy being the first to answer.  She had never had a boyfriend, never wanted one.  It was all very confusing.

Finally, she said quietly, “Well, when I hold your hand, I get this strange tingling in my arm and a fluttery feeling in my stomach.  I’ve never felt anything like this.  I don’t know what it means.  What about you?  After all, I asked you first.”

Hiccup didn’t answer for a moment.  Instead, a small smile appeared on his face as he looked at Astrid thoughtfully.  “I guess that I get similar feelings,” he finally said.  “I kind of like what I’m feeling when I’m with you like this.  It feels nice.”  Even though they were facing each other, Hiccup was still holding her hand.

Astrid thought about his reply for a few moments, and then said, “We’ll have to talk about this later.  We’re both going to be late.”  

Hiccup didn’t release her hand.  Instead, he said “Could you stop by the forge after Dragon Training?  If it’s okay with you, I’d like us to go back to the cove to check out that cave and see if there are any others.  What do you say?”

Astrid thought for a moment, and then replied “Okay.  I’m kind of curious about what is there, too.”  With that, she gave Hiccup a chaste kiss on the cheek to maintain the illusion for anyone watching them, let go of his hand and headed towards the arena.  As she headed for the arena ramp, her head was swirling with confused thoughts.

Shaking his head, Hiccup watched her disappear down the ramp to the arena, noting, not for the first time, the hypnotic sway of her hips, before turning and heading for the forge.

o0o

As Hiccup had hoped, Gobber was still in the forge, busily reworking a damaged sword on the anvil when he entered the forge.

“Hey Gobber, do you have a minute?  I’ve got an idea that I’d like to run past you.”

Gobber let out a groan.  “Ya aren’t thinkin’ o’ making one o’ yer crazy inventions, now are ya?”

“Well, it is an invention.  Actually two.  But I don’t think you’ll object to this one,” Hiccup replied with a grin.  “Give me a minute to get my sketches and I’ll show you what I have in mind.”  With that, Hiccup retreated to his back room to retrieve his sketchbook.  Meanwhile, Gobber set the sword that he was working on aside.  It needed to go in the fire again, but he didn’t want to take the chance of leaving it in the fire too long.

Hiccup reappeared with his sketchbook, leafing through the pages to find his sketches.  With the book opened to the right pages, he walked over to Gobber.  “This is what I have in mind.”  He pointed to the first sketch.  “This is a design for a candle holder for our miners.  With this, each miner could have his own light, and we wouldn’t need miners holding torches or having to take the time to drill sockets in the wall to hold a torch.  With the point, he could jam it into a crack in the rock to hold it while he digs.  I think that I could make this with about two feet of quarter inch nail stock.”

Gobber examined the sketch with a critical eye, frowning in concentration.  “Aye, tha’ could work,” he said grudgingly.  “But what’s the hook for?”

“That’s where the second idea comes in,” said Hiccup, pointing to the sketch on the opposite page.  “We take a helmet and rivet a socket to the front, which makes a place to hang the candle holder by its hook.  Plus, the helmet will protect our miners from head injuries when they bang their heads on the ceiling of the mine tunnel.  We’ve all heard them complain about that!”

“No horns?”

“No, they’d just get in the way.  But we might want to put some padding inside the helmet as a cushion.”

Gobber continued to study the candle holder design.  “But why make it in one piece?  It looks like flattening the steel and doin’ the bending ta make the candle socket and hook will make it harder ta make.  Why not make the hook as a separate piece and braze it ta the shaft?”

Hiccup looked back at his mentor with a small smirk.  “I thought of that.  We don’t have a lot of brass or bronze for brazing, and we need it for more expensive projects.  I also thought of drilling the shaft, making the end of the hook a pin, and then flattening it as a rivet on the bottom, but we don’t have any drills that fine.  Plus, I think it would make the hook too weak.”

Gobber continued to study the design.  A smile began to appear under his mustache.  “At last, ah think ya’ve invented something that is practical an’ will help Berk.  How about, when we finish fixin’ tha wrecked weapons from tha raid, ya try makin’ one and see how it turns out?”

Hiccup’s face lit up at this statement.  He’d never had Gobber say anything positive about any of his inventions.  “Thanks, Gobber!  I won’t let you down.”

Hiccup’s smile faded as he saw Gobber looking thoughtful.  “What’s wrong, Gobber?” he asked hesitantly.

“Well, ah was just thinkin’ that if tha miners like yer idea, we’re gonna have us a lot more work.  An’ we’re goin’ ta have ta make a lot more nail stock.  Ah hope Trader Johann might have some on his next visit tha’ we could buy.”  Gobber’s frown deepened.  “Ya know, they might even want some fer their houses.  They could have light anyplace that they could stab the candle holder into a beam.”

Hiccup’s brow furrowed as he thought of how much more work he would have if his idea was successful.   Thankfully, they had a large stock of dragon scales and other dragon parts from the recent raids to trade for the materials.  Johann was always more than happy to accept them in trade.  He let slip one time that the scales were popular for armor at some of his trading stops to the south.  But, if Hiccup’s new ideas about dragons proved correct, that trading material might not be available much longer.

Hiccup turned and looked at the pile of damaged weapons from the raid and groaned, his thoughtful frown turning into a scowl.  He’d already forgotten how many there were to fix.  “Looks like I won’t be able to start on the candle holder today, though.  That pile looks like it will take us at least all day today.  Why can’t these meatheads try to take care of their weapons?!?”  He picked up a sword that was twisted into a corkscrew, his eyes narrowing and frowning as he examined it.  “I can’t even imagine how someone managed to do this to a sword!”  As he examined the ruined weapon, he idly wondered if it had been softened by dragon fire.  Hiccup couldn’t imagine it not having shattered otherwise.

“Ah know,” Gobber sighed.  “Ya’d think that they’d be more careful.  Ah’ve had Stoick yell at them about caring for their weapons, but nothin’ seems to stick.”

Hiccup’s eyes lit with a sudden thought.  “Gobber, what if you started charging them more for the repairs?  Think that might make them more careful?”

“Ah dinna know,” Gobber sighed.  “Might be worth a try.  Anyway, right now we have this mess ta take care of,” unconsciously echoing Stoick’s statement from years ago about the damage caused by Hiccup’s dragon fighting inventions.

With audible groans, both blacksmiths set to work on the damaged weapons.  It was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

As Astrid headed for the arena and her Dragon Training class, her head was awhirl with confused feelings about her interactions with Hiccup.  What was going on?  This was supposed to be a pretend relationship.  She didn’t want a real boyfriend, just someone to make her parents stop trying to marry her off.  Where were these feelings coming from all of a sudden?  What did they mean?

With a growl, Astrid forced these thoughts out of her mind.  She was almost to the arena, and she hadn’t really thought about the day’s Dragon Training lessons.  Plus, with the rumors swirling around about her and Hiccup and knowing that her students had seen her and Hiccup together at the Great Hall last night, she was sure that this group of young muttonheads were going to pester her about the two of them.  Her eyes narrowed and she adopted a ferocious scowl.  Anyone who gave her grief about Hiccup, or who put him down, was in for big trouble.  At least it was a rare sunny spring day, so the training would not be rained out.  Not to mention that her students couldn’t complain that it was too cold to train.

Astrid had taken over Dragon Training the spring following her victory.  The multitude of near disasters that had arisen with her class from Gobber’s “learning on the job” method forced the elders to think about new training methods.  It was a wonder that anyone in her class had survived.  Besides, with the increase in dragon raids causing an increase in the number of damaged weapons, Gobber was needed in the forge more than ever.  Hiccup couldn’t keep up with the increased demand by himself, not to mention the problems caused by the villagers refusing to accept any work that seemed to be his.

Some, particularly Spitelout and Mildew, had objected to such a young woman being assigned to Dragon Training.  After all, she was not a large buff male.  Spitelout thought that if a young person were to be the trainer, it should be Snotlout despite his rather poor showing in Dragon Training (mainly because he kept hitting on Astrid).  On the other hand, her father was very proud that his daughter was being selected for such a prestigious job.  After Astrid demonstrated her weapons skills and what agility training could bring to fighting dragons, reducing the risk of injury to defending Vikings, the Elders, except for Spitelout and Mildew, voted for her to become the new Dragon Fighting Trainer.

She had experimented with new training techniques, teaching weapon skills and training regimes similar to what she used in her own private exercises.  Actual training against dragons didn’t happen until she was satisfied with her students’ progress, and then only with strict controls.  She was unrelenting in her intolerance of slackers, earning her the nickname of “Attila” from her students.  She had wondered where this nickname had come from until she heard of the tales of the Huns that Trader Johann spread on his visits.  She assumed that her nickname came from her punishments for slackers, tough and unrelenting.  Much like how Attila treated his prisoners.   

This year’s crop of students was particularly challenging.  The class was significantly larger than hers had been, thirteen in all, which only made things harder.  The students were also older than she and her peers had been when they trained.  After her first year as trainer, Astrid had successfully campaigned to raise the training age.  Her reasoning was older students were a little more mature (definitely not always the case!) and more physically developed.

Top on the list for challenging was Gustav Larson, otherwise known as mini Snot.  Even shorter than his idol, he was good with weapons, but had an irritating tendency to slack off, not to mention hitting on Astrid.  Close seconds were Luggnut and Wingnut Thorston, twin cousins to Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and every bit as chaotic.  Typical Nuts, and near identical miniatures of their older cousins.  Goosehiss Ingerman was Fishlegs’ younger sister, a bit stout like her brother and just as introverted and bookish.   Boarlegs Ingerman was Fishlegs’ cousin, but more aggressive and outgoing.  In some ways, he reminded Astrid of Fishlegs when he had been hypnotized into thinking that he was Thor Bonecrusher.  Surprisingly, he idolized Snotlout and tried to imitate his idol.  That included hitting on Astrid, not to mention an irritating smug attitude.

Then there were the Jorgensons.  Singelout was Snotlout’s cousin, every bit as irritating as Snot.  He was similar in build to Snotlout but a little taller.  Drifa was Snotlout’s younger sister, dark haired and petite, but with a strength that belied her size.  She was one of her easier students.  She idolized Astrid, which, while nice, caused its own set of problems.  She was prone to following Astrid around like a lost puppy and imitating her.  Astrid idly wondered what Drifa would think of her new axe, not to mention her new “boyfriend.”  Freya Hofferson was Astrid’s younger cousin.  She was slender like Astrid, although taller with a more angular face and flaming red hair.  Of all the weapons available, she excelled with the longbow.  Unlike Astrid, she was much more girly.  She liked to flirt with the other boys in the class, particularly Boromir Losnedahl and Wulfric Ulven.  Astrid wondered idly if she’d try to flirt with Hiccup now that he was her “boyfriend.”

Boromir and Wulfric were close friends, both with sturdy builds in their mid teens and talented with weapons.  They were also polar opposites, with Boromir, the stouter of the two, being jovial and prone to telling tall tales (and quaffing mead whenever he could sneak it), while Wulfric was more serious.  Boromir had light hair which was prematurely thinning, while Wulfric had a full head of dark hair and angular features.  Wulfric was also the junior Shields champion, a game where players competed to see who could maintain their balance while racing around the Great Hall on shields held aloft on their shoulders by other Vikings.

Einar Losnedahl, Boromir’s brother, was another more serious student.  He rarely caused trouble and excelled at axe throwing.  Two other girls rounded out the class, Hjordis Gulseth and Lilja Grimsrud.  Both young Vikings were on the line between lithe and stout.  Both were developing skills with weapons, particularly the mace and the morning star.  Although typically quiet, they were not above harassing Astrid about her lack of a boyfriend.  She wondered what they would say now that she and Hiccup were out as a “couple.”

Astrid groaned as she thought about all the questions, snark and possibly overly personal questions and comments she was going to get from this crew.  Entering the arena, she scanned the flame and Gronkle lava scarred stone walls of the arena.  So many memories of past training and dragon encounters flooded her mind as she looked around the stone walls.  On the far side, the gates of the dragon pens loomed ominously.  An occasional dragon cry sounded from within one or another of the pens.  After yesterday’s meeting with the Terrible Terror and the revelation of the Night Fury, she felt a twinge of sympathy for the caged beasts.  If yesterday was any indication, dragons might no longer be prisoners, maybe sooner rather than later.

Fixing her gaze on the training area, she sighted her class.  Atypically, all of her students were there ahead of time, chattering away.  She could guess what the topic was and groaned.  “ This is going to be a LONG session,” she thought.  Steeling herself and fixing a “mess with me and you’re dragon food” expression on her face, she strode toward her gathered students.

As soon as the students saw Astrid enter the arena, the buzz of conversation died like a small fire drowned by an ocean breaker.  Astrid moved to the center of the arena and barked, “Everyone line up!”  Seeing the scowl on Astrid’s face, the teens hustled to form their inspection line, each holding their chosen weapon for inspection and automatically standing at attention.  Normally, some would slouch and earn some extra push-ups.  But, seeing Astrid’s expression, none of them were willing to chance Astrid’s temper.  Not today.  Everyone tried to keep a neutral expression and faced eyes front.

Astrid slowly walked down the line.  Each student held out their weapon, which Astrid inspected carefully.  Maces and morning stars were checked for sharp points.  Edged weapons had their sharpness checked.  She tested the tension on bow strings.  And all weapons were checked for cleanliness.  For a change, everyone passed inspection.

“Stand at ease,” Astrid commanded, unknowingly emulating a 20th Century drill sergeant.  She looked over her trainees, none of whom dared to even crack a smile.  The tension in the arena was thick.  “Okay, I know what you are all thinking.  I see it in your eyes.  So you can ask a few questions.  But if any of you say anything nasty about Hiccup, you’ll do 50 extra pushups and 20 laps around the arena!”

The teens looked nervously at Astrid and at each other.  Finally Drifa shyly raised her hand.  “Yes, Drifa?” Astrid asked.  “You have a question?”

“A-Are you really seeing H-Hiccup?” she stuttered.  Her face, normally admiring, had a nervous expression.

“Yes, Drifa, I’m seeing Hiccup.  He asked if he could court me and I said yes,” Astrid said with a small smile.  Drifa’s face took on a dreamy expression, yet with a little sadness in her eyes.  Astrid noticed this and wondered if the younger girl might have a crush on Hiccup.  Was she jealous?  This was surprising, since no girl in the village had shown any interest in Hiccup in the past.  Or was it just that she thought that Hiccup and Astrid were a good match?

This led to a storm of questions from the rest of the group, talking over each other and drowning each other out.  Astrid finally pointed to Boromir, who had a nervous expression but wasn’t normally snarky.

“Why?  He’s no warrior, and he’s built like a twig.  Why would a Shield Maiden like yourself give him the time of day?   You’ve ignored, or even beaten up, far better Vikings.”  Boromir surprised Astrid with his candid question, presenting it without a stutter.

“Why, you ask?  Far better Vikings?”  Astrid replied.  Her eyes narrowed, and her eyes shone with an intensity that startled Boromir.  “How do you define a better Viking?  Is a baker or a fisherman or a leatherworker less of a Viking than a warrior?” she challenged.

This time Wulfric responded, “At least they fight dragons when we’re attacked!”

“Oh, so you haven’t noticed then that Chief Stoick has Bucket guarding the forge to keep him from leaving during a dragon attack,” Astrid challenged, giving Wulfric a stern glare, her cheeks pinking.

“And has anyone here ever spent any time at the forge, watching Hiccup and Gobber working?”  Astrid’s eyes swept back and forth over the group.  “Well, have you?  Do any of you have the slightest idea what it takes to make a sword, or my axe?”

Astrid began to pace back and forth down the line, her axe still holstered on her back, and her hands clasped behind her.  “Have any of you paid any attention to the work that he does in the forge?  How he always helps out at the Things, keeping the other Heirs occupied and preventing fights?  HAVE YOU?” She barked the last sentence, causing some of her students to flinch.  “Did any of you hear about him saving me from three Nadders with a sword last night?  Not a warrior, you say?  I’d say that qualifies him as a warrior, as courageous.”

“Come on!” Gustav sneered.  “You can’t expect us to believe that!  Everyone knows how much Bucket mixes things up and gets confused.  And all he does at the forge is sharpen things and make nails!  He’s just as useless as ever!”

“How about Gobber? He saw what happened too.  Does HE mix things up?  Well, does he, Gustav?”  Astrid practically snarled the last sentence.  “Oh, and you’ve just earned pushups and laps.  Drop and give me 50!  NOW!”

“Really, Astrid?  He can’t swing a sword, let alone make one,” Wulfric retorted, but in a more respectful tone than Gustav had used.  “Or an axe, for that matter.”  Wulfric’s eyes radiated doubt and outright hostility and he adopted a calculating look.  Astrid began to wonder what Wulfric might be plotting. 

“Can’t swing a sword, you say?”  Astrid replied in a frigid tone.  “I think you’re repeating very old information.  He swung a sword quite nicely last night!  If you don’t believe me, ask Mulch or Gobber.  They both saw what happened.”

As she watched Gustav doing his pushups, she decided that she would ask Gobber and Hiccup if they would demonstrate weapons making to her class.  It was high time that they learned what it took to make their weapons.  Maybe it would teach them to care for their weapons a little better.  Come to think of it, the adults could do with a little education as well.  Maybe she’d call it Forge 101, providing Gobber and Hiccup agreed.

At that point, Hjordis and Lilja both asked “Is he nice to you?”  Both tended to be a bit on the romantic side.

Astrid smiled softly at the girls, her temper cooling.  “Yes, he is.  He treats me with respect.  And he made me this new axe to replace my old one which had cracked.  Something that I missed when I took it to him to sharpen.  You can all take a look at it after training.”  That statement earned looks of disbelief from the entire class.

Just then the mini-twins started to chant, “Astrid and Hiccup, sitting in a tree, k…” only to be silenced mid-chant by a glare from Astrid that could melt solid rock.  

“Lugg and Wing, you’ll do your pushups and laps at the end of training.”

She scanned the group with a stern expression, hands on her hips.  “Are there any other questions?”  Silence.  “No?  Fine.  First off, who here doesn’t believe that Hiccup makes some of our weapons?”  Every hand went up.  They had not heard her talking with Snotlout and the others the night before.

Astrid finally remembered her plan and preparations for the day.  Preparations that had helped delay her visit to Hiccup at the forge.  At one end of the arena, a line of thirteen axe targets was set up.  To one side was the agility training course with thirteen pylons set up in a circular zigzag pattern, with a gap as th for the students to weave around with a series of obstacles here and there to be dealt with in the pathways.

“Okay, you don’t believe me?  Everyone who doesn’t carry an axe, set your weapons to the side and grab an axe from the rack.”  She gestured towards the line of targets set up on the far side of the arena.  “After warm-ups, today is axe throwing practice!  Oh, and Wulfric, after you get your axe, drop and give me 50.  No laps for you, you were a little nicer than Gustav.  Oh, and grab an axe for Gustav,” she said with a smirk.  Gustav was still working through his pushups.  “NOW MOVE!”

The class carefully set their weapons down and then raced to the rack, grabbing a classic single bladed Viking chopping and throwing axe.  Running back to the center of the arena and lining up, they waited for Astrid’s next command.  They had learned the hard way that Astrid expected them to hustle.  Gustav stood, panting, having completed his pushups.  Wulfric handed him his axe.  “Hold on the laps, Gustav.  You can run them after axe practice.”

“Now, everyone, I want you to look at the bottom of your axe blade near the handle, and tell me what you see engraved there,” Astrid commanded.  Her students did so, some of them grumbling. Thankfully it was a sunny day, so the engraving was easier to see.  Going down the line, each teen announced what they saw.  Luggnut, Goosehiss, Singelout, Drifa, Einar and Lilja all said that their axes bore the inscription GTB, for Gobber the Belch, while the rest, to their astonishment, had axes inscribed HHHIII.  They noticed that whatever the inscription, the axes were all of excellent quality.

Astrid asked Drifa and Boromir to hand her their axes.  Once they were in hand, she checked the balance on each, and noticed with a small smile that the Hiccup axe was more finely balanced.  “Okay, everyone set your axes down,” she commanded.  Once the axes were down, she handed the pair of axes she held to Boromir, who was at the end of the line, after swapping them back and forth several times and then taking a test throw of each at a target and retrieving them.

“Now, Boromir, I want you to test the balance of each axe, and then look at the inscription on the axe that you think is better balanced.  Don’t tell us your findings and pass the axes to Wulfric.  Each of you check the axes and pass them to the next person.”  Drifa was at the end of the line.  Drifa, after you’re done, keep your axe and hand Boromir’s to me.  Then I’ll ask each of you your opinion.

Astrid smiled as she watched looks of amazement, confusion or bewilderment appear on the faces of her students as they each tested the axes.  After Drifa had checked both axes, Astrid collected Boromir’s and handed it back to him.

“So,” Astrid started.  “Which axe was better balanced?  Everyone who thinks Gobber’s was better, raise your hand.”  Much to Astrid’s surprise, Singelout, Boarlegs and Luggnut raised their hands.  “Really?” she thought.  After all, she had checked them herself.

“Now, who thinks that Hiccup’s was better balanced?”  Wulfric, Boromir, Goosehiss and Einar raised their hands.

“Does that mean that the rest of you couldn’t tell the difference?”  The remaining six all nodded or muttered an affirmative.  “Well then, if you’re not able to tell the difference, then I think that you need more training.  But first, you’re all going to run three laps through the agility obstacle course.”  That announcement was met by a chorus of groans and a couple of mutterings of “Attila” that Astrid ignored.

Astrid smirked at the class.  “Come on now, when have we ever had to fight dragons, or Outcasts, when everyone was well rested and ready to fight?”  Astrid saw a few nods in the group.  “That’s right, almost never.  Now lay down your weapons and hit the course!”  She wasn’t sure that she trusted this bunch to run the course with axes in hand yet.

The class broke into a jog, rounding the first pylon from the right and immediately hitting a jumble of rocks that they had to go over, around or dodge through depending on how they were laid out.  Astrid never laid the course out the same way twice so that they couldn’t memorize it.  “Expect the unexpected” was her mantra.  She watched with some satisfaction as the trainees navigated the course on the first two laps without anyone tripping and falling.  Then as the front runner, Wulfric, reached the end of the second lap, Astrid shouted “Wulfric! Reverse course!  Everyone else, do the same at the end of the second lap!”

Now the class had to not only dodge the obstacles, they had to dodge each other!  A chorus of grumbles arose from the course, causing Astrid to snicker.  “Remember, expect the unexpected!”  She recalled how often she saw Berkians run into each other during Dragon raids.  This would teach her class to have better situational awareness, hopefully resulting in fewer self-inflicted injuries during raids.

Astrid watched with satisfaction as her students ran the course, dodging each other, sometimes having to stop to let someone pass in a narrow section.  Then, Lilja and Freya both stopped, unable to decide who should go first.  This happened twice more.  To set the priority and clear things up, Astrid shouted “Trailing students stop if it’s too narrow.  Let the leaders through!”

After some hesitation, Lilja stepped aside and let Freya through.  Astrid was surprised to see that the remainder of the course went smoothly, with no collisions and no hesitation when students going in opposite directions met at tight spots.  Everyone cleared out of the obstacle course and returned to their line positions, some panting more than others.  Walking or running around or over jumbled rocks takes a certain rhythm that takes a while to learn.  Astrid reminded herself to have most of the rocks removed before training against a Gronkle.  No point in giving them extra ammunition.

After giving the group a few minutes to recover, Astrid commanded them to pick up their axes and move to the thirty foot line marked on the arena floor in front of the line of targets.  “Okay, gang,” Astrid started.  “We’re going to practice axe throwing today.  We will do this one at a time.  I’ll be with each of you to observe and make suggestions.  We will do a total of 12 tosses, going six feet farther away until we reach sixty feet.  Questions?”

Silence reigned in the arena at first, followed by some minor grumbling.

“Fine.”  Astrid scanned the group.  “First, some questions.  Why would you need to throw your axe at a dragon rather than attacking it with axe in hand?  Anyone?”

Einar raised his hand.  Astrid was somehow not surprised, given that he was among the best in the class with an axe.  “Yes, Einar?”  she responded.

“W..well, if you are too far away, you can distract a dragon from another warrior with a thrown axe.  And maybe do some damage,” Einar replied, growing more confident with each word.

“Very good, Einar,” Astrid responded.  “Of course, you could lose the axe if it got stuck in the dragon’s hide, but that damage could chase it off.  Can anyone else give me another reason?”

Goosehiss raised her hand.  Astrid simply pointed at her, indicating that she should answer.  “I..if the dragon is in the air, taking off with an animal and not too high, hitting it with an axe could cause it to drop the animal.”

Astrid wasn’t surprised by this answer.  After all, Goosehiss was Fishleg’s sister.  “Another good reason.  Thank you, Goosehiss.  Any other ideas?”

At this point, Hjordis shyly piped up “Wh..what a..about distracting a dragon from taking something like animals or attacking a house or a storehouse?  And could we throw a mace instead of an axe?”  she added.

“Another good idea, Hjordis,” Astrid complimented with a smile.  “And yes, a mace would work just as well.  A morning star might not be as good a choice, though.  Any more ideas?”

Surprisingly, Wingnut raised her hand.  Raising her eyebrows, not sure if Wingnut was going to offer something strange, Astrid hesitantly inquired, “Yes, Wingnut?”

“How about to distract a dragon that is chasing someone?”  Wingnut asked.  “Didn’t you throw your axe at a Nadder that was chasing Hiccup in training?” she asked with a smirk.

Astrid’s eyebrows pinched together as she scowled, irritated by Wingnut’s example.  Then she relaxed, answering, “Yes, that’s another good reason, and a good example.  I didn’t know that you ever watched dragon training,” she added while she wondered, “Why did that irritate me?” .

Wingnut’s face morphed into an evil grin.  “Yeah, we went to see if the dragons would ever get Ruff or Tuff.  I mean, they bragged so much about how well they were doing in training that we had to see just what was happening.  We loved it when the Terror bit his nose.  I mean, now every once in a while we sneak up behind him and yell, “I’m hurt!  I’m very much hurt!” and then have to run for it when he chases us!”

Astrid smiled and chuckled. “I think I’d like to see that!  Those two deserve to be pranked once in a while.”  Becoming serious again, she said, “Okay, those are all good reasons to throw a weapon at a dragon.  Now then, when do you not want to throw your axe?”

At this point Boromir interjected, “When it’s your only weapon.  You don’t want to be defenseless.”

“That’s right, Boromir.  In that case, what should you do instead?” Astrid challenged.

Boromir didn’t hesitate.  “Throw rocks at the dragon’s head, or maybe knives if you have them as a backup?  We all know that you carry a few knives and daggers.”

“Just how many do you carry, coach?” Wulfric piped up.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”  Astrid smirked.  “ Never tell anyone how many backup weapons you carry,” Astrid said in a commanding tone that brooked no disagreement.  “An opponent’s uncertainty might be the only thing that saves your life!”

Wulfric wasn’t satisfied with that answer.  “Come on now!  How could that possibly matter against a dragon?  They’re just dumb, vicious animals.  This is dragon training, after all.”

Astrid gave Wulfric a glare that caused him to shrink back a couple of steps.  “This isn’t just dragon training anymore!  Don’t you remember that I’ve told you that we train against humans, too?  Don’t you think that an Outcast would love to know that?  Or how about a Berserker or an Uglithug, if they decide to attack like they did in the past?”

The entire class looked down at the ground, embarrassed that they had all forgotten that fact.  Then Freya raised her head and shyly asked, “Astrid?”

“Yes, Freya?”

“Going back to what we were discussing, why couldn’t we use a bow to distract a dragon, or even kill them?  That way we don’t have to get close?  With a full quiver of arrows, we could get off a lot of shots.  I mean, why do we only use the bow for hunting?  I’ve never seen them used against dragons.”

Astrid smiled at her cousin, pleased by the question that no one else had thought to ask.  “That is a very good question, Freya.  Can anyone answer her question?”  Astrid decided that she would use Freya’s question to check how much her class remembered about their dragon anatomy training.  Her question was met by silence.

“Come on, now!  No one?”  Even if her class wasn’t the most academically inclined (except for Goosehiss), she was very disappointed.  “Okay, your assignment for the next class is to study the Dragon Manual and be ready to tell me where the storage bladder for each dragon’s fire making material is located in their body.”  Astrid was well aware that butchering downed dragons for meat had led to some unfortunate explosions or fires when the fire bladders were accidentally breached.  Those had been costly lessons in dragon anatomy, not to mention creating a huge mess of mostly unusable dragon parts.  Astrid hesitated, and then looked back at Freya.  “Freya, does my assignment tell you why we don’t like to use arrows against dragons?”

Freya gulped, embarrassed that she’d forgotten the one liability of her favorite weapon.  “A..arrows c..can penetrate d..deeply enough to hit the fire bladder and e..explode the dragon,” she stuttered out.

Astrid gave her cousin a smile and a quick wink.  A dragon hadn’t been exploded over Berk in years, making it easy to forget that it could happen.  “That’s right, Freya.  And that’s why we only use arrows on attacking dragons in the most extreme circumstances.”

“Okay, everyone, that is all of the theory work for today.  Pick up your axes, go to the rack and grab a second axe and move to the thirty foot  line.  We will do two throws there, back up six feet, do two throws and continue every six feet back until we reach sixty feet.  Each of you will throw only when I am with you, so that I can study your throw and offer advice.  MOVE!”

The class sped to the weapons rack, grabbed a second axe, and returned to the thirty foot line.   Astrid walked over to Boromir and ordered him to make his first throw.  The axe struck his target just above the bullseye in the nine ring.  Astrid expected nothing less, given that Boromir was one of the better axe throwers.  She complimented his throw, made a couple of suggestions for correcting his grip and release point, which Boromir applied, scoring a bullseye on his second throw.

Astrid moved to Wulfric, the next in line, and continued the routine.  As she worked with her students, she was unaware of three pairs of eyes watching her from the arena stands in different locations.  None of the three knew the others were there as well.  One was Gothi, who was often a spectator in her role as village elder.  After all, it was she who would select the winner of dragon training.  This was a much larger class than normal in recent years, requiring more of her attention.  Overall she was pleased with Astrid’s methods, focusing on weapons, stamina and agility before working with the dragons.  She also approved of Astrid’s emphasis on less injurious attacks on the dragons in training, emphasizing striking vulnerable areas while pulling the punches, so to speak.  This resulted in needing to replace fewer dragons as training progressed.  Full force attacks were done against dragon dummies scattered around the arena.  That is, until the winner of dragon training killed their first dragon.  This was typically a Monstrous Nightmare.

At another location, Phlegma was watching the training.  She too was impressed by Astrid’s training methods.  She was also impressed on hearing why Astrid wanted them to be ready to fight other people if need be.  The acoustics in the arena made it easy.  But on this day she had other intentions.  She wanted to trail Astrid to gain more insight into her budding relationship with Hiccup, which had seemed to blossom out of nowhere.  She knew about Hakon’s and Ingrid’s plans to have Astrid marry the heir of another tribe.  Phlegma did NOT favor this plan.  She was against removing Berk’s best dragon trainer in ages, not to mention a Shield Maiden second only to herself, from the ranks of Berk’s defenders.  She was also one of the very few Berkians who knew beyond a doubt that Hiccup was an excellent blacksmith, having observed him at work in the forge while visiting Gobber in his normal haunt to discuss village business.  While somewhat surprised by the events of the preceding evening, she also believed Gobber’s story of Hiccup coming to Astrid’s aid with the Nadders.  Phlegma was intrigued.  Where had that ability come from?  And, like most of Berk, she also knew about Hiccup’s long term crush on Astrid.

At a third location, Mildew was observing the proceedings with a deep scowl.  He was one of the elders who had opposed Astrid’s appointment as dragon trainer.  He thought it was no place for a girl, and much preferred Gobber’s methods.  He felt slighted that his opinion was given no weight.  He also held a grudge against Hakon Hofferson, who was one of the tribesmen who had campaigned to have the “obnoxious old cabbage farmer” moved to his current location far from the main village.  Not only did that make moving his cabbages to market harder, it also made everything else, including getting supplies, harder and more time consuming.  The point of moving him was because he was a smelly (he never bathed) old man who poked his nose into everyone’s business, particularly things that were none of his or any elder’s concern.  Most of the village was happy to only have to deal with him at the occasional meetings of the elders with the villagers.  Adding insult to injury, some of the elders were campaigning to have him removed from the council!

Mildew also thought that the apparent budding relationship between Astrid and Hiccup was an insult to all things Viking.  Hiccup was no Viking.  So far as Mildew was concerned, all Hiccup did was laze around the forge, doing little work of value, and taking up space better suited to a more Viking-like youth like Snotlout.  That such a wimpy fishbone should be the heir to the chiefdom was intolerable.  He was also planning to tail Astrid to see if he could find something to use against her, or even better, her and Hiccup.

Astrid continued working with her students.  When each had completed their throws at thirty feet, she moved them back six feet and continued the training, backing up another six feet when the next set of throws was completed.  This process continued, ending with the sixty foot line.  As she watched her class, she made notes about each person.  Two of the girls, Drifa and Freya, she noted, could probably use a lighter throwing axe.  She made a special note to put the order in to Gobber for four new axes.  Most of her class did well with axe throwing.  Einar, Boromir and Wulfric were the best of the boys.  Hjordis and Lilja, not surprisingly due to their work with the mace, were the best girls.  She would have to do more work with Luggnut and Wingnut, who, not surprisingly, didn’t take training seriously.  Gustav and Boarlegs would also need work.  With their arrogant attitudes, they refused to take direction or correction, and continued to score poorly on their throws.

As she worked with her class, her mind strayed to the events of the previous morning.  If what Hiccup was thinking was right, that dragons could be intelligent creatures that Vikings could maybe bond with, there would soon be no need to train to fight dragons.  Maybe that training would shift to working with the dragons.  Wouldn’t that be something?!?

With the class completed, Astrid directed her students to return the borrowed axes to the weapons rack and move the targets against the arena wall.  Then Gustav, Wingnut and Luggnut, with much grumbling, began their punishment laps around the arena.  While they were running, the rest of the class noisily clamored to see Astrid’s new axe.  She instructed them to gather around her.  She proudly showed them the axe and let each one of them handle it and look at it closely.  She showed them his initials on the base of the blade but didn’t comment on anything else.  As Wulfric examined the axe, testing its edge and balance, he mumbled “I still don’t believe that Hiccup made this.  This looks like Gobber’s work.  It’s nearly identical to your old axe!  He just polished out Gobber’s initials and put his own on it!”

Einar and Singelout piped up in agreement, “Yeah!  There is no way that Useless could make something this fine.”  Boarlegs gave a barely perceptible nod in assent but didn’t say anything.  Astrid missed the nod.

“I heard that!” Astrid snapped as she retrieved her axe.  “What would you say if I told you that he made my old axe, too!  When he was ten!  Not to mention designing a mold so that he could duplicate my axe if I broke it!”  Astrid was seething, red in the face.

Despite Astrid’s angry reply, Wulfric responded, “That’s impossible.  There’s no way he could have made an axe that fine at age ten!”

“Why don’t you ask Gobber, then, if you don’t believe me?” Astrid hissed.  “And what did I tell you about disrespecting Hiccup?!?  Drop and give me fifty, you three!  NOW!

Boromir quietly asked, “May I see your axe, Astrid?”  Astrid handed him her axe, not saying a word.  She wasn’t sure what Boromir might say about it.

Boromir examined the axe closely.  He ran his thumb carefully over each edge, noting with a smile that it was nearly razor sharp.  His eyes widened as examined the center of the axe face that was up, spotting the fine engraving of the Norse symbol of protection.  He motioned Lilja over to take a look at the engraving.  The other girls followed but let Lilja get closer.  They all knew that she had a crush on Boromir.  They did not know that the crush was mutual, and that the two had started seeing one another shortly after dragon training began.

When Boromir pointed out the engraving, there were oohs and aahs from the girls.  The girls reached out and felt the leather wrapped handle, feeling the brass studs and appreciating the fine grip that this gave Astrid on her weapon.

“Flip it over,” Lilja breathed quietly.  “Let’s see if it’s engraved on the other side.”  Astrid held her hand over her mouth.  Her smile had just become a smirk.

Boromir flipped the axe, and everyone leaned in to read the inscription on that face.  “ I belong to the best Shield Maiden on Midgard .” As they read it, the girls uttered a collective “Awww.”

With wide eyes, Freya remarked, “There’s no way Gobber would inscribe that on an axe!  It had to be Hiccup.  Everyone knows that he has been crushing hard on you, like, forever.”

Astrid’s eyes widened at that remark.  While she knew that Hiccup had a long-term crush on her, she had no idea that the whole village knew it.  That put things in a different light.  This was going to make getting out of their fake relationship a lot harder.  After a moment’s consideration, she set the thought aside to deal with later.

Boromir finally remarked, “Yeah, I have to agree.  The engraving puts things in a different light.  It looks as if Hiccup is every bit as good a blacksmith as you have been saying.”  The girls all chorused their agreement.

Wulfric stood, having just finished his pushups.  Einar and Singelout finished theirs a few moments later.  Wulfric wandered over to the group and took a close look at Astrid’s axe, which was still inscription side up.  After a few moments examining the axe closely, he grudgingly agreed.  “I guess that I was wrong about Hiccup’s blacksmithing skills,” he admitted.  As he said that he was thinking, “I’m still not sure that I believe it.  I think I have a way to prove that he is not much of a Viking.  I just have to wait for the right moment! Maybe then she’ll notice me as more than just a student.”

Astrid didn’t know it, but Wulfric had developed a crush on her since beginning Dragon Training.  He admired her skill with weapons, not to mention her lithe form and pretty face.  It irked him that she took no special notice of his skills or budding “manliness.”  The reveal the she was seeing Hiccup was particularly annoying, not only because of his reputation or fishbone physique, but because he’d had the gall to criticize him (despite the fact that the critiques were very mild) for how he treated his weapons on multiple occasions when he’d taken them to the forge for service.

Astrid retrieved her axe from Boromir, holstered it on her back, and dismissed the class with “Don’t forget your Dragon Manual assignment!  There will be an oral quiz.”  The ten other students left, chattering amongst themselves.  From the snatches that she could hear, there was grumbling about the assignment and upcoming quiz in two days.  But from other bits she knew that much of the conversation was about her and Hiccup or her axe.  There were a few grumbles about sore arms from axe throwing.

She stayed in the arena until Gustav, Wingnut and Luggnut completed their laps, making sure that they didn’t slack off.  When the three runners completed their laps, they too were dismissed with a reminder about the assignment.   As they left, Astrid heard mutters about “Attila” and how mean their dragon trainer was.  She could swear that she heard Gustav mutter “Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you stuff about?”  She rolled her eyes in exasperation, remembering that exact sentence from Snotlout during her dragon training.  Gustav was truly Mini Snot!  She thought, not without some anger, “The next time he gives me grief, he’s on dragon dung duty for a MONTH!”

Astrid left the arena, headed in the general direction of the forge.  She still wanted to check with Hiccup about exploring the caves in the cove.  She was unaware that two pairs of eyes watched her depart.  First Phlegma, then Mildew, left the arena to follow Astrid at a discrete distance.  Phlegma moved in a somewhat different direction to disguise the fact that she was following Astrid.  Mildew, however, spotted Phlegma and realized that she was trying to follow Astrid.  Knowing her reputation as Phlegma the Fierce, Mildew decided not to follow Astrid too far.  It would not do to have the canny warrior spot him.  He would take a different course, following Astrid while trying to look like he wasn’t following her.  He’d break off the pursuit after a while, watching what Phlegma was doing.  And maybe, just maybe, he could try to get some information from her.

o0o 

As Hiccup left Astrid and headed for the forge, he looked around, scanning the damage done by the previous night’s dragon raid.  Two homes were completely destroyed, although he wasn’t sure which families they belonged to.  Such was the result of Stoick keeping him mostly confined to the forge and his home.  One storehouse was badly damaged.  Fences had been knocked down on two of the yak farms, along with some of the sheep pens.  To make matters worse, the fish drying racks had been decimated by Gronkles, and one of the smokehouses had been damaged.

Hiccup shook his head in disbelief.  How could he be expected to be a proper heir when Stoick kept him in the dark about the day to day goings on in the village?  Sure, he was getting chiefing lessons, but he needed more details if he were to be an effective chief when Stoick retired or if, gods forbid, something happened to him.  And it went without saying that his current status with the rest of the village would only make being chief more difficult, if not impossible.  He decided that he’d save thinking about that for another day, and shifted his thinking to what awaited him at the forge.

When Hiccup arrived at the forge, Gobber immediately put him to work on some of the bent swords.  Broken weapons went into the scrap pile after careful notation of their owners.  Among them was the sword which had been twisted into a corkscrew.  These weapons would have to be replaced.  At least the metal could be reused to make new weapons.  It was possible that some could be replaced from the armory, but the custom weapons were another story.  The damages from this raid were going to require several days of work to undo.

Hiccup donned his heavy leather apron and grabbed his elbow length blacksmith’s gloves.  He grabbed the first bent sword in the stack and placed it in the fire, pumping the bellows to increase the temperature and heat the sword to a bright red heat more quickly.   Donning his gloves, he retrieved a set of long tongs from the tool rack and waited for the sword to reach the right shade of red (blacksmiths are very adept at judging temperature by color).  When the sword blade reached the right temperature, he snagged it with the tongs and set it on a large anvil.  Grabbing the cooler (but still hot) handle with his heavy gloves, he began to pound the sword flat with a heavy hammer.  Getting it straight again might require several heatings, after which he could begin to reform the edges and temper the steel before finally turning to the grinding wheel to sharpen it.  Typically he waited until he had reshaped several swords before turning to the sharpening wheel.  That made his work more efficient, something that Gobber valued greatly.

Working with damaged swords like this was something that required some concentration (unless you wanted even more burns!), but Hiccup had done this so often that he could let his mind drift to other things.  At first he thought about what had happened between him and Astrid over the last day.  He still didn’t believe that she wanted to spend time with him, even if it was only a pretend relationship.  The way she was acting seemed to hint at more.  He could only hope.

As he continued to work with the swords he thought about making a first visit to the cove with Astrid to check out the Night Fury’s cave and to see if there were any more hidden in the seaward wall.  There was no way that he would be able to have either of his mining light designs made by then, what with all of the weapons repair that needed doing.  He sighed, thinking that maybe he would need torches after all.  Plus a flint and striking steel to light them.

Then there was the problem of getting there separately so that he and Astrid were not spotted going into the woods together without a chaperone.  He did not want anyone assuming that he and Astrid were doing anything too intimate at this early stage of their relationship, things reserved to married couples.  That despite things he’d overheard from other village men about their conquests before taking a wife.  He especially did not want to hear anything from Snotlout, who had openly bragged about his conquests before starting to see Ruffnut.  Whether Snotlout’s boasts were true or not was open to question, but there was no point in giving Snotlout any more ammunition to harass him with.

o0o

In his cave, Night Stalker stretched out his mind, trying to see if he could sense the Viking boy who visited the cove.  He had moved to a less shielded section of the cave where he could hear a faint babble of Viking and draconic thoughts.  After his mental battle with the Queen the previous night, he felt like a switch had been thrown in his mind.  He felt as if his mental abilities were more powerful.  He had managed to sense the thoughts of Stormfly and Firestorm in their cages in the village after they had been captured.  Maybe that was only because he had a mental connection to them, but he had never before been able to sense the minds of other captive dragons.

Night Stalker knew from the boy’s mental ramblings when he was in the cove that he thought of himself as “Hiccup.”  The Night Fury wasn’t sure, but he thought that might be the boy’s name.  When he thought about the yellow-haired girl, the word “Astrid” was used.  Night Stalker was reasonably sure that this was the girl’s name and was the girl that he saw at the cove rim yesterday.

Maybe it would be possible to speak mind to mind without using pictures.  From listening to the little Viking talking to himself in the cove, he was pretty sure that the boy could not master the complex sounds of Dragonese.  He didn’t have the vocal range, particularly at low frequencies.  The Night Fury felt reasonably sure, however, that he might be able to think in Viking.  From “Hiccup’s” interaction with the Terrible Terror, Night Stalker felt that the boy could at least form a strong enough mental image that even lesser dragons like the Terror could read it.  He wondered idly if maybe the boy was a latent telepath and could transmit thoughts as well as receive them.  It certainly seemed possible.  

Night Stalker closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to focus on finding “Hiccup.”  It wasn’t easy.  He was suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of thoughts from the Viking villagers.  There had to be tens of them, maybe hundreds.  It was so much easier when it was just him and the boy in the cove.  How to filter the thoughts?  Because he had read the little Viking’s thoughts so many times before, maybe he could find that one particular thought pattern.  He let out a soft whine as he began to sort through all of the different thoughts.  “ There!  I think I have him!”  Nightstalker thought as he felt a glimmer of a familiar thought pattern.

Straining in concentration, he tried to focus on what the Viking that he’d singled out was seeing.  Images of glowing metal, sparks flying as something hard struck it, dimly appeared in his mind.  All that Night Stalker could think was “This is HARD!”   Was this the boy?  Or was it another Viking working metal?  Concentrating even harder, he started to look for pictures from side thoughts.  He noticed that the Viking that he was reading only had part of his mind on what he was doing.  A thought picture of the yellow-haired female appeared.  “ Okay, that is possibly him.  But there could be others who think about her as well.  Let’s try something.  I hope this works!” Nightstalker thought grimly.  If this failed, and the recipient was a hostile Viking, he could be in a world of trouble.

Straining mightily, Night Stalker projected a top view image of himself; a reflection of himself that he had seen on a bright day while flying upside down over calm waters.  He focused on the mind with the image of metal being struck and sparks flying.  Suddenly, the sparks stopped flying, the large piece of metal that had been spraying sparks as it was struck glowing red on a flat hard surface.  An image appeared in the mind alongside the view of the work surface; that of a Night Fury in a cove, its wings spread.  “Yess!” Night Stalker thought.  “ It’s the boy!”  He projected a picture of Hiccup in the cove and watched with satisfaction when the same picture appeared in the boy’s mind, only this time him and the female.  Night Stalker projected what he thought would be an approving thought and broke contact.  The strain was too much.

Night Stalker collapsed on the floor of his cave, exhausted by the mental effort.  Something had enhanced his powers, but not enough to maintain contact at the distance between himself and the boy for very long.  He would have to practice to strengthen his mind so that he could maintain contact at larger distances with less effort.  He was still thinking that, if he could break the Queen’s hold in enough dragons and convince them to fight against the tyrant, he could lead a rebellion and defeat her.  And, if he could convince the Vikings to stop hunting and fighting free dragons, maybe even help him, he might have a chance.

“Look out, Queeny,” he thought very quietly and grimly to himself.  “When the time is right, I’m coming for you!  I’m going to end your reign of terror!”

o0o

As Hiccup thought about the timing for the cove visit and when to meet Astrid, he felt something like a tickle in his brain.  It was an uncomfortable sensation.  As he continued to work the hot sword, he shook his head, trying to relieve the strange sensation.  Then, out of nowhere, a picture of the Night Fury which seemed to be reflecting from a surface, appeared in his head as clearly as if he was seeing with his own eyes.   Hiccup gasped and slowed his hammer swings on the sword.  He pictured in his mind the Night Fury as it had shown itself to him only yesterday.  He felt something like elation from the Night Fury.  There could be no doubt, the Night Fury was communicating with Hiccup, mind to mind.

Hiccup next saw a picture of himself in the cove, sitting on his “thinking rock.”  Delighted to be in friendly communication with the most feared dragon of all, Hiccup pictured himself and Astrid in the cove standing near the Night Fury’s cave.  He felt something warm, friendly and approving before the connection was broken.  Hiccup stood stock still, only now realizing that he had stopped pounding on the damaged sword.  It had cooled and needed to go back in the fire.  “I can’t believe it,” Hiccup thought.  “I think that a Night Fury is trying to be friends with me!  Who is going to believe that dragons, especially the most feared of all, are not mindless killing machines?  Maybe, just maybe, there is a way that we can end this awful war!

Hiccup turned back to his work.  Gobber had noticed Hiccup pausing in his work but thought nothing of it.  One’s hammer arm did need a break from time to time.  At that moment, Astrid entered the forge.  She raised her finger to her lips, silently asking Gobber not to say anything.  

o0o

As Astrid headed to the forge, she noticed, as Hiccup had done earlier, all the damage that the village had suffered from the dragon raid and all the work going on to fix the damage.  She wondered, not for the first time, why she and her class were exempt from doing repair work.  As she pondered that question, she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye.  It was Phlegma, who looked to be moving slightly towards her, but also looked as if she were coming from the arena.  She also noticed a similar movement on her other side, although this person was angling slightly away from her course.  “Mildew!” she thought with disgust.  “What is that slimy old man doing coming from the arena after I was conducting dragon training?  He’s got to be up to no good!  Astrid didn’t trust Mildew as far as she could throw him, which was not far at all, even if she could get over her disgust and actually touch the nasty old man.

Watching Mildew carefully as she headed towards the forge, she noticed that he seemed to be following her while trying to look like he wasn’t.  For safety’s sake, the forge was somewhat isolated from the rest of the village, and in the opposite direction from Mildew’s cabbage farm far outside the village.  “He’s following me,” Astrid thought angrily.  She knew he had no business at the forge, because he had stayed at his farm during last night's dragon attack.  “Okay, enough is enough.  Let’s see what he’s up to!” Astrid practically snarled the thought.

Unholstering her axe, she turned towards the old man, eager for a confrontation.  If Mildew had ill intent towards her, he had another think coming!  She noticed that, as she closed on her target, that he was not carrying the staff that he usually carried.

Mildew spotted Astrid turn towards him, axe in hand, a ferocious glint in her eyes.  And he realized that he didn’t have his staff!  Mildew paused as the young Valkyrie closed on him and decided that now was not the time for a confrontation.  He stopped, fingered his scraggly chin whiskers for a moment as if trying to remember something, and then turned and headed towards his home.

Astrid watched Mildew walk briskly away and smiled grimly.  “That’s right, you old pervert!  Run away!”  Astrid thought with more than a little satisfaction.  She watched him until he disappeared from sight, holstered her axe and turned back towards the forge, only to run into Phlegma.

“H..hi, Phlegma,” Astrid stuttered, taken by surprise by the warrior woman’s sudden appearance.  “C..Can I help you?”

“You really need to avoid concentrating on one target,” Phlegma observed.  “It’s not like you to be caught by surprise by anyone.  Although given that the target was Mildew, I guess that it’s understandable.”

“W…well, y..you are one of the quietest walkers in the village,” Astrid responded.  “I did see you, but I thought that you were headed for the forge.”

“I was, but I actually wanted to talk to you about Hiccup,” Phlegma replied with a soft smile.

“What about him?” Astrid questioned nervously.

“Well,” Phlegma began, “I saw a little of that fight against the Nadders last night, and I noticed that Hiccup was much better at handling a sword than I expected.  Have you been training him in secret?”

Astrid couldn’t help a small smile at that.  “No, I haven’t.  He’s been training himself during slow times at the forge against imaginary enemies.  I have offered to train with him to improve his technique,” she added.

“One thing puzzles me, though,” Phlegma pressed, her eyes intensely focused on Astrid.  “Why were you both swatting the Nadders with the flats of your weapons rather than trying to kill them?”

Astrid adopted a bit of a scowl.  “What would you have us do against three dragons?” she asked pointedly.  “We needed to escape that trio.  You know that killing a Nadder is a lot harder than knocking one out.  Each of us trying to kill one would leave us exposed to the third one.  And Hiccup was aiming to distract them from me.  Besides, we distracted two long enough for Bucket to knock one out, so we captured a new Nadder for the arena.”

Phlegma frowned in concentration.  Something about Astrid’s explanation didn’t quite ring true, but she wasn’t sure why.  Just a gut feeling.  “Okay,” she replied a bit skeptically.  “Do you mind if I ask you about why you’re suddenly seeing Hiccup?  As far as I know, you’ve never shown interest in any boys.  I mean, despite what I saw last night, he’s no warrior.  Not to mention that his reputation in the village is far from the best.”

For some reason, this question made Astrid a bit angry.  “How dare she!” she thought.  Fighting to remain calm, Astrid replied, “Well, there are several reasons.”  She held up her hand and began to tick off points on her fingers.  “First, my parents have been trying to marry me off to an heir from another tribe, and I don’t want to leave Berk.

“Second, any of those heirs would prevent me from being a Shield Maiden, and Hiccup wouldn’t do that.

“Third, the same applies to any of the boys here who aren’t already spoken for.

“Fourth, he is an accomplished blacksmith, besides being an excellent diplomat as Stoick’s Heir.

“Fifth, his reputation as a walking disaster is undeserved.  He hasn’t caused any problems in years, and despite being continually harassed, he doesn’t lash out at his tormentors.

“And finally, he is Stoick’s Heir!  If I’m able to marry him, not only do I remain a Shield Maiden, I become Chieftess when Stoick retires!”

Phlegma was a bit taken aback by Astrid’s strong reply.  “Well, you certainly have thought a lot about this,” she said more quietly.  “But I’m a bit surprised that you haven’t mentioned his looks.  He is an attractive man, and some of the younger girls have noticed that despite his outcast reputation.”

Astrid cheeks colored at that.  She had certainly noticed his looks, but that was far from the reason that she had entered into this pretend relationship.  You could say that it was a bonus for her intended outcome.

“Well, that is true,” Astrid finally admitted.  “But that is just a bonus.  He is kind and generous, and he made me this new axe to replace the one that I damaged beyond repair.”

Phlegma raised her eyebrows at that statement.  She hadn’t heard about Astrid’s new axe.  “May I see it?” she asked softly.

“Sure,” Astrid replied.  Quite proud of her new axe, she unholstered it and handed it to Phlegma.

Phlegma examined the axe with a critical eye.  She was especially taken by the engraved protection symbol, and her eyes widened when she read the inscription on the opposite face.  Developing a smile, she handed the axe back to Astrid.  “From the inscription, I’m certain that Hiccup, not Gobber, made your axe,” she noted.

“Yes, he did,” Astrid replied proudly.  “He’s also made me other gifts over the years, which I’ve only recently begun to appreciate more.”  She pulled her Nightmare scale necklace from under her tunic and pulled out her brass handled stone inlaid dagger from her boot.  “He made me this necklace after I won dragon training, and the dagger was a seventeenth birthday gift.”  She handed the dagger to Phlegma for her to examine.

Phlegma carefully examined the dagger, with its intricately carved brass handle and inlaid red garnets, along with now somewhat worn engraving on the blade itself.  “You say that he made this two years ago?” she questioned, handing the dagger back to Astrid, who promptly stuffed the knife back into her boot sheath.

“Yes, he did.  And he was only fifteen when he made my necklace,” Astrid replied, her face glowing with pride at her fake boyfriend’s craftsmanship.  She had never doubted Hiccup’s skills as a blacksmith but regretted not showing more appreciation for those talents before now.

Phlegma reached out and carefully lifted the caged dragon scale strung on a woven leather necklace strap and studied the intricate silver wire cage surrounding the blood red Nightmare scale.  “This is a scale from the Nightmare that you killed for your final exam in dragon training, isn’t it?”  Phlegma questioned.

“Yes, it is,” Astrid replied.  She tried not to show any regret at that action, regret arising from their encounters at the cove the previous day.

Handing the necklace back, Phlegma frowned in concentration.  She knew that, at the very least, Hiccup was an adequate blacksmith, otherwise Gobber would never have retained him as an apprentice.  She and Gobber were good friends, and she had often seen Hiccup hard at work over the years when she visited the forge.  But when she was there, he was usually doing more mundane work like making nails or sharpening swords.

“I must admit, Hiccup does some really fine metalwork,” Phlegma admitted.  “But if he can do work of this quality, why does everyone say that Gobber does all of the major work?” she asked, knitting her brows, puzzled.

“Why do you think?” Astrid replied, irritated.  “No one other than Gobber, not even Stoick, has taken a moment to watch him work on weapons, or utter a word of praise for his work.  The other teens bully him constantly, taunting him about his failed inventions from years ago or his slender physique, and before he knocked out Snotlout, they beat him up because he was so much smaller than other Vikings his age.  He refuses to take credit for his work, fearing that it will hurt Gobber’s reputation and his business.  What other choice does he have?”

Phlegma looked at Astrid thoughtfully.  “You’re going to see him at the forge now, aren't you?” she asked.  Astrid nodded a yes.  “All right.  I’ll stop by to see Gobber another time.  This trip was not all that important anyway.  You’ve given me a lot to think about.  See you later, Astrid.”

As Phlegma walked away, she was thinking about what she had just heard.  This was something that she needed to discuss with the other elders, although maybe it was best to leave Spitelout and Mildew out of those discussions.  Their views were all too well known, and it was unlikely that either would change their mind.

Astrid continued on to the forge.  She noticed a flare of sparks rising from the forge chimney, a good indication that Hiccup, Gobber or both were still hard at work.  They were likely going to be at work for much longer, but she needed to ask Hiccup about when they were going to return to the cove to check out the Night Fury’s cave.  Plus, she wanted to take a few moments to watch her faux beau at work.  As she entered the forge, Gobber lifted his head and faced her, having spotted her enter out of the corner of his eye.  Hiccup was oblivious to her presence, with this back to the entrance as he hammered a hot sword into shape.  Astrid raised her index finger to her mouth, asking Gobber to stay silent.  She was hoping to watch Hiccup work his forge magic for a while before meeting to plan their trip to the cove.

She perched herself on a stool at the large central forge table, leaned her elbow on the table and placed her chin on her hand as she stared at Hiccup hard at work.  Hiccup had removed his tunic, presumably overheated from the forge fires, and was only wearing his leather protective vest on his upper body.  As he swung his hammer, Astrid noted with raised eyebrows how the muscles on his back, never apparent when he was wearing a tunic, flexed as he worked.  His biceps were also in view as he pounded the cooling steel, and she noted visually what Ruff had commented on feeling at breakfast.  “ Not bad.  Not bad at all,” she thought with a soft smile.  Then, she sobered, thinking, “Why am I acting like a besotted girl?  This is not supposed to be real.  It’s only a means to keep me from leaving Berk!  Why am I acting this way??”

At that point, Gobber cleared his throat to catch Hiccup’s attention.  “Hiccup, would you mind the shop while I go get some more sword stock from the storeroom?”  He switched his hammer hand for his hook, and as he started to leave, added, “Oh, and Astrid is here to see you.”

Astrid shifted her attention at that, not wanting Gobber to leave just yet.  “Hey, Gobber, before you go, I have a question for you.”

Gobber stopped in the doorway and swung to look at Astrid, a puzzled look on his face.  “What do ya have in mind, lass,” he asked cautiously.

“Well, Gobber, it’s like this.”  Astrid dove in, making sure that she had Gobber’s attention.  “I don’t think that the people in this village appreciate your work, or Hiccup’s.  They seem to think that making weapons is no work at all, almost like you conjure them out of midair.  The way most of them care for their weapons and tools sure seems to point that way.”

“Aye, lass, ya do have a point.  Most of these muttonheads have nay respect for anything that we make.”  He pointed his hook at the remaining pile of damaged weapons and the pile of scrap weapons waiting to be melted into new stock.  “What do ya have in mind?”

“I was thinking, why don’t you and Hiccup invite some people to watch you work repairing or making weapons.  Say call it a Basic Forge Work course, and maybe even have some of them try their hand at smithing to see how “easy” it isn’t.  And I’d say make Stoick your first student.  He has absolutely no idea what Hiccup can do.  Getting others in might help them treat their tools with more care.  Say, maybe pick the worst offenders for the first students after Stoick.”

Gobber stroked his bearded chin with his hook, frowning in concentration.  “Ya know, tha’ might jest work,” he commented, a grin forming as he thought about Snotlout struggling with a hammer and hot steel.  “Let me think on it a bit, an’ ah’ll get back to you.”

“But, gotta go.  You two behave yerselves, hear?” Gobber smirked, wiggling his eyebrows before he turned and left.

Astrid rose from her seat and walked over to the anvil where Hiccup had continued to work, not wanting to waste time reheating the sword that he was working on.  He was more than conscious of Astrid’s stare at his bare back, his face reddening from more than just the heat of the sword that he was working.

“Hi, Astrid, Hi Astrid, Hi Astrid,” he stuttered, surprised by her unexpectedly early visit following Dragon Training.  “Wh…What can I do for you?  Do you need your new axe sharpened already?”

“No, you muttonhead,” Astrid replied with a smirk.  “Did you forget that we were going to go check out the caves in the cove this evening?  I just wanted to talk with you about when we would go.”

“Oh, that,” Hiccup replied.  “Well, I haven’t had a chance to make our candle holders, what with all of these damaged weapons to fix or replace.  We will probably need to take torches.  And I am going to be stuck here for quite a while yet.”

Astrid thought about that for a moment, her encounters with Phlegma and Mildew still prominent in her mind.  “I think that we should sneak out and go early tomorrow morning,” she finally replied with a small frown of concentration.

“Why not earlier?” Hiccup replied, setting aside the sword which was now too cold to work.

“Well, I’d like to avoid us being observed going into the forest together,” she stated.

“Why don’t you want…,” Hiccup started, trailing off when he realized what Astrid was implying.  “Oh, you don’t want anyone spreading rumors about us doing things that we shouldn’t in the woods, right?”

Astrid’s grin in response to that was brilliant.  “Got it in one try, Hiccup.   I knew you were smarter than the average Viking!”  Her smile morphed into a frown at the thought of Mildew making trouble with such a rumor.

“Okay, Milady, what happened?” Hiccup responded, setting his hammer aside with a look of concern on his face.

Astrid blushed at the pet name before replying, “Well, I had some unexpected visitors to Dragon Training this afternoon.  Mildew and Phlegma.  They both followed me here, although I did manage to scare Mildew off.  I know that he has grudges against both of us, and I don’t want to give him any excuse to cause more trouble than he already does.”

“Mildew I understand,” Hiccup replied thoughtfully, his hand on his chin in concentration.  “But what about Phlegma?  

“Well, she stopped me and grilled me about our relationship,” Astrid stated softly.  “She questioned your fighting skills, why we didn’t try to kill the Nadders, and why I’m seeing you in general.  I think she’s suspicious.  I mean, if I had allowed other boys to court me, I think that she might support us.  But since you are the first, and not at all a “normal” Viking,” Hiccup could hear the air quotes, “She’s suspicious.  We may have to work harder to convince her that this is a “real” relationship.”

“Alright, that’s a good point.  It’s something we need to think about and discuss more later.  But how late do you want to wait to head for the cove?” Hiccup replied, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Well, I’d say after everyone has gone to bed, say after midnight?  We could keep an eye on the stars to set the time,” Astrid commented confidently.

“You’re forgetting something,”  Hiccup responded.  “Our bedroom windows don’t face the same direction.  We won’t be able to see the same star, and if it clouds up, then we have a problem.”

Astrid wondered for a moment how Hiccup knew which way her bedroom window faced.  She realized after a moment that he could see her house from his home’s vantage point much higher on the hill.  Given his crush on her, he had probably watched her window sometimes to see when she went to bed and the light went out.  This thought caused her cheeks to redden.

Hiccup saw Astrid’s cheeks redden and realized that he had just told her that he sometimes watched her window to see when she turned in.  “I’ve just given her a reason to think that I’ve been perving on her,” he thought, even though there was no way that he could see her through the translucent window, not to mention how far her house was from his.

His face reddening in response, he thought for a moment.  Walking to the back of the forge, he grabbed two new candles of equal length and diameter.  He laid them on the bench side by side, and pulling his dagger from his belt, he scribed a line across both candles at the same length from the top.  Handing one to Astrid, he said, “How about this?  Let’s go to dinner later in the Great Hall.  When we leave, I’ll walk you to a point where we’re the same distance from our houses.  We walk home, light a kindling stick from our fireplaces, go to our bedrooms, and light the candles.  When the candle melts to the line, we head for your practice spot and meet there.”

Astrid’s jaw dropped.  The idea was a little complicated, but it should work.  But how did Hiccup know how fast a candle burned down?  “Hiccup, how do you know how long it takes a candle to burn down to a given length?” she asked, a little in awe of the idea.

“Simple,” he replied.  “Some of our women asked our chandlers how long their candles would last.  They were too busy to time them, so they asked Gobber, who asked me to do the job.  It took a while, but I was able to figure it out.  I decided that I’d check for how long it took to burn down each inch to see if it changed as the candle got shorter.”

Astrid grinned at that and her chest swelled with pride at how smart her faux beau was.  “Okay, that sounds like a plan,” she said with a smirk.  “All we have to do then is avoid the night patrols as we head into the forest.”  She looked out the hatch, noticing where the sun’s shadow from a torch pole was touching the forge.  “I’d better get home,” she said.  “Are you going to come by to walk me to the Great Hall for dinner?” she asked, her head bowed slightly, looking at Hiccup through her eyelashes.

“I’d love to,” Hiccup answered with a frown, “but I don’t know when Gobber is going to let me quit for the evening.  How about this?  You go to the Great Hall at sunset, and I’ll try to meet you there as soon as I can.  That is, if you don’t mind waiting for me…”  Hiccup looked uncertain at that.

“It’s a date,” Astrid responded with a shy smile.  She stood, intending to give Hiccup a hug, but stopped when Gobber chose that moment to reenter the forge with an armful of sword steel.

“See you later, Hiccup!” Astrid breathed in what she hoped was a sultry voice for Gobber’s benefit, and left the forge.

Hiccup blushed at Astrid’s tone, and got even redder when Gobber smirked, “You better watch out for that one, Hiccup!  I think she’s working on wedding plans.”

Chapter Text

As Astrid walked away from the forge, her mind was awhirl with thoughts about the day and what was to come. She trudged along a well-worn path to her home, brow furrowed in thought. She wondered what Phlegma was thinking about her “relationship” with Hiccup and what she might do. Mildew was another problem. He definitely had it in for them and bore close watching.

As she trudged up the path, she noticed the pleasant odor of lavender. Where could that be coming from? Nothing was in bloom yet on the island, but the fragrant scent of leidingablom (literally, boring flower, because they grew everywhere) caused her button nose to twitch and brought to mind pleasant memories of little Hiccup, back when they were best friends, bringing her bouquets of the flowers from time to time.

As she swung her arms as she strode homeward, she noticed that the scent got stronger when the hand carrying the candle that Hiccup gave her was in front of her, and weaker when it was behind her. Stopping suddenly, she raised the candle to her nose and, frowning in thought, inhaled deeply. The scent of lavender flooded her senses.

Smiling softly, she looked at the candle with a bit of awe. “This is amazing!” Astrid thought. “How did Hiccup manage to do this? I have to remember to ask him about it. This is going to make my room smell so nice when I burn the candle!”

Astrid continued on her way home, a dreamy smile on her face, all thoughts of Phlegma and Mildew banished from her mind by the scented candle that her faux beau had given her. “That sneaky little ironmonger,” she thought with a grin. “He gives me something practical to solve a problem and makes a gift of it at the same time.” And then a more sober thought: “What is happening to me!?!?!” She continued her trek to her home with a renewed spring in her step.

Astrid entered her house with a crooked smile on her face. Her mother spotted her and, wondering what was up, asked, “Why the smile, dear?”

“Hiccup gave me a little gift,” Astrid breathed, holding out the candle.

Ingrid frowned at that. A candle didn’t seem to be much of a gift. “Why are you so happy with that?” She asked. “It’s just a candle. Hiccup makes lots of them for the village, pointing to some on the fireplace mantle.”

“Not like this, Mom,” Astrid replied. “Here. Sniff,” as she handed the candle to her mother.

Ingrid placed the candle near her nose and took a deep breath, her eyes widening as the scent of lavender filled her nose. “How did he do this?” she wondered aloud. “All of his other candles just smell like beeswax.”

“I don’t know,” Astrid replied as she retrieved the candle and headed towards her room. “But I really like it. I just hope he isn’t making scented candles for any other girls.” The comment ended with a sigh.

Ingrid watched her daughter ascend the stairs to her room with a bemused smile. For a daughter who insisted that she would never marry, she looked very much smitten at the moment.

o0o

Hiccup watched Astrid as she left the forge, her hips swaying a bit more than usual as she walked away. Uncharacteristically, she kept moving in a straight line rather than turning towards her house as usual. She stopped suddenly, lifting the candle he’d given her to her nose. After a brief pause, she turned towards her house and strode out of sight.

Hiccup smiled to himself, thinking “She noticed the scent that I added to the candle. I hope that she liked it!” With that, he turned back to the sword that he was straightening, sticking it back in the fire and pumping the bellows to get it to the proper temperature. After a few minutes, the sword glowing with the proper color, he removed it from the fire, placed it on the anvil, and began to pound it back into shape.

The rest of the afternoon went by quickly, a repetitive bout of heating and hammering twisted swords, reshaping and sharpening chipped axes, and building a pile of scrap metal from weapons too badly damaged to be repaired. This metal would be reused to make new weapons and tools.

Hiccup was busy sharpening a sword on a stone wheel, his thoughts drifting to Astrid and the Night Fury, not paying full attention to the task at hand. A sudden snapping sound brought his attention back to his work. The spray of sparks from steel on stone ceased, and the loud clang of metal on stone rang through the forge as the broken blade struck the floor. The sword he had been honing had snapped in two. Apparently it had an undetected crack. At least he hoped so, noting that he was working on Snotlout’s sword. In any case, now he would have to make a new one for the muttonhead. He didn’t relish telling Snotlout or Spitelout what had happened.

He caught Gobber’s attention with a sharp whistle which carried over the clamor of hammered steel. When the clanging ceased, he carried the broken sword over to Gobber and stated “It looks like Snotlout’s sword had a hidden flaw. It shattered while I was sharpening it.” He handed the pieces to Gobber, who examined the break with a critical eye.

“It does look like there was a flaw there,” he said quietly. “Surprisin’ it didna break while he was sparrin’ or fightin’ dragons. “Mebbe ya could make a fightin’ knife outta the hilt section. We will havta get him a new sword. “Think we ha one in stock that will match the old one?” Gobber was testing his apprentice on their inventory,

Hiccup frowned for a moment, his eyebrows pinched in concentration. After a moment’s thought, he went to the stack of finished swords and began to rummage through them. With a triumphant “Aha!” he pulled a sword from the pile which had a guard, grip and pommel that were nearly identical to Snotlout’s old sword and with identical blade dimensions. Hiccup gave the sword some experimental swings in the back of the forge, smiling in satisfaction at its weight and balance.

Taking the sword over to the bench, Hiccup tagged it with Snotlout’s name and hung it on the wall rack. “There!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “That should satisfy him!” All the while he was thinking, “He’s sure to find something to gripe about!”

Glancing out the hatch, Hiccup noticed that the sun had already set. He couldn’t believe that he’d lost track of time so badly. Thinking that he didn’t want to have Astrid wait too long for him, he walked back over to Gobber.

“Gobber, could I call it a day? I’m kind of beat, and I’m so hungry that my stomach thinks my throat’s been cut!”

Gobber looked Hiccup up and down with a smirk. “Yaah, right. Ya just want to go see Astrid at the Great Hall.” He scanned the stack of finished swords and axes. “Well, even if ya spent a lot of time working on Astrid’s axe, ya still got quite a few things fixed. Go ahead, I’ll close up. But be here bright and early tomorrow, hear?”

“Thanks, Gobber,” Hiccup responded with a grin. “See you tomorrow.”

Hiccup left the forge, smiling with thoughts of a nice nattveror (night meal) with Astrid. He hoped that none of those who normally harassed him would be there, given the late hour. As he walked up the hill toward the steep steps leading to the Great Hall, he thought about possibly meeting the Night Fury and trying to communicate with it. He wondered if he could form mental images which would also indicate Norse words to the dragon. Just communicating with mental pictures seemed awfully hard. He also wondered how the dragon would react to Astrid being there.

As Hiccup trudged up the long slope towards the Great Hall, he was unaware that Night Stalker was again straining to see the thought pictures in his mind. He was working to strengthen his link to the young Viking, and maybe understand more about his potential new friend. He noted that Hiccup was thinking about bringing the yellow haired female with him, and that he was planning on coming to the cove very late.

As Hiccup neared the Great Hall, his stomach rumbled. The rumble made him think of what sort of stew had been prepared for the evening meal, and what else might be available. The Night Fury saw the thought picture in Hiccup’s mind, and while he found the thought of plant materials mixed with the meat and something other than fish in the meal less than appealing, it reminded him that he hadn’t eaten yet and was quite hungry himself. His mental spying efforts had required a lot of energy. If he was to be there when the humans arrived, he should take a chance and do some ocean fishing. Maybe he could catch some large salmon, a big tuna or maybe even a swordfish (although this was a bit more dangerous prey).

Reluctantly, Night Stalker broke contact with Hiccup, and, after moving to a less shielded part of his cave and listening for the Queen’s thoughts, headed for the seaside cave opening to go fishing. As he did so, he sent a quick thought message to Crusher and Spew and Spark to warn them that Vikings might be in the cove late at night, and warning them to hide and, if discovered, to refrain from hostile action. When thinking of the torches that the Vikings were planning on bringing, he sent a quick thought to Snout Nipper, his little Terrible Terror friend whom he’d introduced to the little Viking earlier to meet the Vikings and bring a friend so that both would have a light source.

On hearing his name from the Night Fury, Snout Nipper groused “I’ll do it, but I hate that name. I like the name that the Viking boy gave me better. He at least recognized what a brave dragon I am, and saw that I’m a great shot! I know what that Viking word means!” he grumbled. He despised the name that he’d gotten when he was a Viking captive, when on one occasion, he leapt at a young Viking in Dragon Training and started biting his nose. Snout Nipper shot another thought at Night Stalker. “If that young Viking makes friends with you, I hope he gives you an embarrassing name!”

Snout Nipper thought for a minute. “I think that I’ll bring Tail Biter along for the girl. I think that she’d be alright with helping. She’ll call it an adventure.”

Night Stalker groaned. Tail Biter delighted in sneaking up on him and biting his tail. The little Terror was a sneaky nuisance. She was almost as stealthy as a Night Fury. “Okay, Sharpshot! I’ll call you that from now on. Just keep that sneaky little friend of yours away from me!”

Leaving the seaside entrance to his lair, Night Stalker cruised low over the sea near Raven Point, using his ranging sense to probe the waters below looking for dinner. It was not long before he received the return echo from what he recognized as a large bluefin tuna. With a silent cry of triumph, he dove into the waters, snagged the tuna and raced back to his shelter. Upon reaching his shielded tunnel section, he settled down to leisurely eat the large fish and then settled down for a nap after sending a thought to Sharpshot to wake him when the Vikings reached the cove. As his eyes closed and he started to doze, he decided that Sharpshot was a pretty good name for his little Terror friend.

Meanwhile, Hiccup had reached the Great Hall. Slowly opening the massive doors, he stepped inside and scanned the room for Astrid and his tormentors. He spotted Astrid at the far end of the hall. He didn’t see Snotlout, the twins, or Fishlegs anywhere in the hall, but he did sight some of Astrid’s students, most notably Wulfric, who were eating at a table not far from where Astrid was seated. While not as bad as his peers, some of Astrid’s current students had seen fit to harass Hiccup from time to time. He noted that Wulfric was staring at Astrid and wondered what that was all about.

A number of adults were present as well, most notably Phlegma, Bucket, Mulch, Bjørn and Hoark. There were quite a few other warriors present, most of whom Hiccup had had few interactions with. At least he didn’t see Mildew there, which was a relief. As he headed for the serving line, he was glad that he at least had a few friends present among the adults.

Grabbing a wooden bowl, a small plate and spoon, he walked to the large stew pot and was surprised to see that Ingrid Hofferson was serving the stew tonight.

“Evening, Mrs. Hofferson!” Hiccup greeted brightly. He wanted to make a good impression on Astrid’s mom. “What kind of stew do we have tonight?”

“Evening, Hiccup. Well, we have a nice, fresh haddock stew tonight.” We also have mashed turnips for a side dish,” she replies brightly. “Astrid’s still here, if you want to eat with her. She just started eating.”

Hiccup’s smile faltered a bit. “Haddock?” I like eating haddock, but it always makes me feel like I’m eating a family member,” he snarked.

“Oh, come on, Hiccup,” Ingrid replied with a giggle. “Surely it’s not that bad.” She proceeded to ladle a generous portion of stew into Hiccup’s bowl, followed by a scoop of turnips on his plate. “By the way, that was a really nice candle that you gave Astrid. How were you able to make it smell like lavender? I mean, none of the chandlers have ever done anything like that.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s a trade secret,” Hiccup replied with a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, you should try making candles with other scents,” Ingrid suggested. “It could be quite popular with the village women, although you could have other girls chasing you for the secret,” she teased.

Hiccup’s brow furrowed in thought. “That’s not a bad idea,” he admitted. “But the only girl I’m interested in is Astrid. And if other girls started to chase me, she might take offense and create more work for Gothi chasing them away!”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Ingrid tried to frown and hide the smile that wanted to form. Hiccup was more serious about Astrid than she’d imagined. Who knew? “Well, you better go eat. Your food is getting cold and Astrid’s waiting.”

“Thanks, Mrs. H. Have a good rest of your evening.” Hiccup went to the mead barrels and snagged a mug of watered mead and headed for Astrid’s table. He didn’t realize that Astrid had been watching the interaction between him and her mother. She had caught the twinkle in Ingrid’s eyes at one point in her discussion with Hiccup and realized that Hiccup was doing a good job of selling their “relationship.”

Setting his plate, bowl and mug down next to Astrid’s, he leaned over and pressed a brief kiss to her forehead. “Evening, Milady,” he said, noting that her face had turned beet red. Phlegma, watching from her seat, noticed the kiss and smiled to herself.

“Why did you do that?” she hissed quietly.

“Just selling the relationship,” he replied with a smirk.

“Well, I think that you’ve done more than that,” Astrid noted, inclining her head towards Wulfric, who was approaching the table, his face aflame. Behind him, approaching a little more hesitantly, were Boromir, Einar and Singelout.

“Oh, Thor! Can’t a guy ever eat in peace around here?” Hiccup groaned.

“Well, maybe you could have if you hadn’t kissed my forehead. Wulfric has a crush on me, and is insanely jealous,” Astrid replied with a smirk.

Hiccup’s eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. To Astrid, he looked like he was becoming angry, something she had never seen in him before.

“Calm down, Hiccup!” Astrid whispered urgently. “We don’t need any distractions, or fights, tonight.”

Wulfric was seething as he stepped next to Hiccup. His hand gripped the hilt of his dagger, knuckles white with anger. His friends hung back, expectantly awaiting the fireworks that were sure to come.

Considering Astrid’s comment, Hiccup turned to Wulfric and calmly asked, “Can I help you, Wulfric? If you need your dagger sharpened, I can take care of that for you if you stop by the forge tomorrow.”

Glaring at Hiccup, Wulfric hissed, “My dagger’s fine, Useless! You’d only dull the edge. What I need for you is to stay away from Astrid!”

“And why exactly should I do that?” Hiccup queried quietly. “She’s not your property, or anyone’s, for that matter. Not to mention, she has given me permission to court her.”

“Because if you don’t, I will turn you inside out, fishbone! You are not worthy to court someone like her,” Wulfric growled.

“Is that a challenge?” Hiccup replied, his expression hardening. “You do know that the chief has banned duels, since we need every able-bodied citizen to defend against the dragons.”

“You’re hardly able bodied, Useless! I’ll snap you like a twig!”

At this point, Astrid rose and stepped between the two young men. “All right, you two. Break it up. Wulfric, my social life is none of your business. I’ve told you countless times that I am not interested in you. If you keep this up, you will NOT like the consequences. Now why don’t you and your friends go back to your table and let us eat in peace?”

Wulfric grumbled something like “I’m not finished with you yet, Useless” as he stalked back to his table, followed by his friends, who were also grumbling about Hiccup being with Astrid.

Astrid sat back down next to Hiccup, her face red from the encounter. “See what I have to deal with every day?” she muttered, picking up her spoon and taking a bite of her stew. Glancing at Hiccup, whose hip was now pressed against hers, she pointed her spoon at him and said pointedly, “You’d better eat your food before it gets cold. We have a long night ahead of us if we go to the cove. Oh, and even though it helps to sell the relationship, maybe hold off on the kissing for a while?” As she said this, she was thinking “Although that might not be such a bad thing in private.” Followed by “Wait a minute! What am I thinking? This is not supposed to be real!”

Hiccup nodded. “Okay. But we should talk about when that might be appropriate.” All the while he was thinking “Have I gone too far too quickly?”

As they continued to eat in silence, Astrid noticed that Hiccup had adopted what she called his “thinking face.” After a couple of minutes, she inquired “Watcha thinking about?”

“Wulfric,” Hiccup sighed. “I hate it when people like him, younger that us, have the same prejudices as everybody else. Although I guess that’s normal for this village. I just wish I had a way to put him in his place and stop him from bothering you.”

Astrid thought for a moment. “You know, when I’ve watched you working out with a sword, I’ve noticed that your sense of balance is pretty good. You’re pretty light on your feet. Why not challenge Wulfric to Shields?”

“Hmmm,” Hiccup muttered as he chewed on a bite of stew. While the idea of walking or running around the Great Hall balancing on shields held aloft by his fellow tribesmen was intimidating, particularly competing against Wulfric, he felt confident enough in his sense of balance that he might at least give the annoying Viking a run for his money. “That’s not a bad idea. I mean, he’ll probably kick my ass, but at least I might gain some respect by challenging him. Should I do it now?”

“Maybe tomorrow. If you got hurt tonight, we won’t be able to go to the cove. Let’s finish eating and go get some rest.”

“Yeah, it’s later than I’d like now.”

They both quietly and quickly finished their meals, taking their plates and spoons to the cleaning barrels and dropping them off. Before they left the Great Hall, Hiccup walked over to Ingrid Hofferson and asked, “Do you have any dried salmon that I could take with me for snacks? I’ve got some forge work early tomorrow and might not be able to stop by for dagmal (day meal, aka breakfast).”

Ingrid gave Hiccup an intense, scrutinizing look before walking over to the dried fish stores and returning with two medium sized dried and smoked salmon. “Will this be enough?” she asked as she placed the fish in a basket and handed it to the young blacksmith, her intense gaze boring into him. She leaned forward and hissed, “No more kissing my daughter in public! I’ve got my eye on you, Haddock!” Then, strangely, she winked at him.

“That will be fine, Mrs. Hofferson,” Hiccup replied, his face reddening from her whispered comment.

Unfortunately, she didn’t say it quietly enough, and Astrid heard her. Her face turned beet red, and before they walked away, Astrid hissed back “Mother!” She hadn’t seen the wink.

Watching the two walk away hand in hand, a small smile appeared on Ingrid’s face. If she played her cards right, she could reinforce Astrid’s feelings for Hiccup by taking advantage of her rebellious nature.

As they walked back to their homes, Astrid noticed that Hiccup still seemed to be upset about Wulfric, and maybe by what her mother had said. She tried to calm him down by shifting his attention to the night’s plans. “We’re going to need light to explore the cove and any caves we find. I have some torches stored at my training area in the woods for night practice.”

Thankful for the shift in topic, Hiccup replied, “But where should we meet? I don’t know where your training spot is.”

“Actually, you might. Your path to the cove passes close to my spot. It’s a clearing about halfway to the cove. If you’d like, I can have a torch lit so that you can see it from the trail.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Hiccup replied. “But what if someone sees it before I get there?”

“I’ll take the loaner axe and practice with it before you get there. That will make it look like one of my normal night practices. And if someone does show up before you do, I’ll talk loud enough so you know someone is there.”

“That could work. But just to be safe, I’ll try to be sneakier than normal and keep my ears open, just in case they spy on you rather than confront you.”

After a moment’s thought, Astrid said “I’ll shield the torch so that it can only be seen from your trail, and keep my ears open as well.

As they approached the point where they had planned to part (to maintain the right timing for meeting up later), Hiccup noticed a smirk appear on Astrid’s face. “Okay, what’s so funny all of a sudden?”

Astrid had a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You know, I was just wondering how Wulfric would have reacted if I’d kissed you right in front of him.”

Hiccup blanched at the thought. Not because of the idea of her kissing him, no, that would be heaven. “Are you sure that you want me to get killed this early in our relationship? I mean, he’s a lot younger, but is definitely beefier than me.”

“I don’t think that he would have done anything there.”

“No, he’d just ambush me later. Maybe with his buddies. Four on one could be really bad.”

Astrid took on a thoughtful expression. “Well, that just means that we need to spend more time together.” Somehow, even though this was supposed to be a fake relationship, the idea appealed to her. More reinforcement, she supposed.

Stopping at their parting point, Astrid pulled Hiccup into a hug. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you.” She paused, releasing Hiccup from the hug as an idea struck her. “Hiccup, would you be willing to help me train my students in swordsmanship?”

Hiccup looked dumbfounded. “Why? You’re so much better than I am.”

“Yes, but you’re pretty good and you fight left-handed. You have a different style that is difficult for right handers to counter. And even though Wulfric is my best student with a sword, I’ll bet you could take him down a peg. Plus, it’s an important skill that has been neglected in training for far too long. What do you say? Maybe in tomorrow afternoon’s training? I could clear it with Gobber.”

Although he looked doubtful, with some reluctance, Hiccup said. “Okay, for you Milady, anything that I can do to help. But you have to promise to get me to Gothi quickly if they beat me up.”

Astrid punched him lightly in the shoulder, causing Hiccup to wince. “Is it always going to be like this,” he groaned.

“Muttonhead! You know that I’ll never let anything happen to you that I can prevent! And I know you’re better than any of them are yet.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We’d better get some rest. It could be a long night. Make sure no one sees you leave your house.”

“Right. You too. And don’t forget to light your candle as soon as you get home.” Hiccup gave Astrid another hug and whispered “Good night” into her ear.

With that they parted, both a bit anxious about what might happen in the next few hours.