Chapter Text
Life had been great until now for Astrid.
Good, even.
One might even go so far as to say it was alright.
She was the daughter of a chief who led a medium-sized tribe of vikings. Ulf Hofferson was the strongest warrior in the village and no one dared to challenge him. All of the villagers also trusted him explicitly, as they knew that if he decided on something, it was because he had thoroughly explored all of the options and decided on the fairest choice. He was a good father too, as there wasn’t much that she wished for that her father wouldn’t try to give her. Except his time. But who could complain about that? He had a tribe to lead after all. And with everything he did provide, it would be ungrateful to ask for even more on top of that. Especially since time was one of the few things that he couldn’t spare.
Her mother was the same, she provided everything Astrid needed to succeed in life. Lessons in cooking, cleaning, sewing, and just overall docility for her future husband. Not that any of these lessons actually stuck for Astrid. She much preferred leaving behind the wooden spoon or sewing needle in favor of a battleaxe. Which her mother also had impressive skill with, yet refused to pass any techniques down to her. Something about it not being a necessary skill for a “housewife”. It had been drilled into her from a young age that it was inevitable that she would be married off for political reasons whether she liked it or not.
Didn’t stop Astrid from sneaking off and training in secret anyways. She was fairly certain her parents knew about her covert escapades but it was likely that her father convinced her mother to leave it alone, if just to prevent any more arguments between the two of them. She’d been arguing with her mother a lot lately. The pressure to learn all of the things necessary to fulfill her role as a housewife had been becoming unbearable as of late and she hated it. It wasn’t like she would be getting married any time soon.
Or so she had thought.
And that was why Astrid’s life had been alright until now.
She was getting married. And it was pretty fucking soon.
Not only was she getting married, she was marrying the stringbean son of Stoick the Vast, Hiccup. She was going to be the wife of someone named Hiccup. The one everyone called a failure. That is, until he became the first viking to ride a dragon. And defeated the Red Death. And brought peace to the Barbaric Archipelago. Well, peace from dragon attacks at least. The Berserkers and the Outcasts still presented a threat to her tribe. Now that the great and all powerful “Dragon Master” had taken care of the dragon threat, both tribes no longer had to deal with winged monsters attacking them and they had set their sights on expansion.
It might have been better if Hiccup the Great fucking Hero had just stayed his skinny little ass on his shitty little island, then her tribe wouldn’t have to deal with attacks from other vikings. And she wouldn’t have to marry him. The dragons weren’t even that big of a threat anyways. Sure, they may have taken the lives of many of her fellow tribesfolk and burned down houses and crops with such regularity that they planned around it like one would the changing of the seasons, but at least it kept the barbarity and ruthlessness of the Berserkers at bay.
And now she had to marry the prick that ruined her tribe’s peace. Just so that they could foster an agreement for the Hooligans to provide reinforcements during times of war and for her tribe to provide them with crops that they couldn’t grow due to the unending cold on Berk. Crops that now were almost plentiful without the dragons to burn them down. Ugh.
Astrid knew she was just taking her anger out on the one person she could. Stoick the Vast wasn’t someone she would be willing to pick a fight with, even in her mind, and neither of her parents would listen to her after she got into a shouting match with them as soon as they broke the news. The memory of her parents sitting at the table in their home, watching her walk through the door after returning from one of her “secret” training sessions, flashed in her mind.
“Astrid.” Her father had stared at her with a blank look on his face.
“Dad.” She stared right back.
“Come. Sit.”
“Uh, ok. What’s going on?”
“All yer training and hard work will finally be put to good use,” her mother said with a smile.
“Really?! You’re finally going to let me become a shield maiden?” she looked up at her father, feeling elation at the prospect of finally becoming an official warrior. She had fought dragons to protect the village, of course, but now that they had human enemies, her father had never once let her step up to defend her tribe against them. Hadn’t stopped her from sneaking out and getting a few hits in against some of the invaders, though.
“Not that training,” her mother snapped.”Yer training on how to become a proper young woman. A wife.” Her mother smiled at her. There was a softness in her eyes that wasn’t often seen. Hilda Hofferson was not a soft woman, after all. And yet, despite the rare show of emotion that wasn’t anger or frustration from her mother, all Astrid could feel was like she was being mocked.
“I-, what?!” Her jaw was on the floor, her heart was in her ears, and her stomach was in her left boot.
“Yer to be wed,” her father said matter-of-factly. “By the end of the summer.”
“What?!” she repeated. “Why? Where?” She froze, the most important question forming in her mind. After a moment of silence, she whispered. “To who?”
Her father sighed and looked down, then over at his wife. Hilda nodded her head once at him. He looked back at Astrid.
“Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. Son of Stoick the Vast, heir of the Hairy Hooligan tribe on the Isle of Berk,” he announced.
“Hiccup?” The distaste was evident in her, well, everything. Her face was scrunched, shoulders raised, arms up in the air, and her voice was the highest it had been in years.
She knew of Hiccup. The legendary stories of his many failures as well as the more recent stories of his supposed successes. She had only met him a handful of times when the leaders of the various tribes throughout the archipelago gathered for The Thing. From what she remembered he was a tiny, freckled, red-haired boy who was more awkward than he was tall. She recalled vague memories of having fun playing with him and the children of the other tribe chiefs. That was it. And now she was going to be marrying him in a few weeks. What the fuck.
“You-, I-, There’s no way!” Her face felt hot and her fists were balled at her sides.
“Why no’?” Her mother looked at her calmly, with a twinkle in her eye that Astrid knew meant she was picking a fight. They were so alike in some ways.
“Because!”
“Because what?”
“Just… because,” she huffed in defeat. They had told her this would happen, just not when it would happen. She assumed it would be in some far off time when she was ready, even though she knew she never would be. She began trying to think of reasons why this couldn’t happen.
“Well, he’s not even a warrior! Everyone knows to be a good husband, you have to be a good warrior! What would everyone think if you married me off to some—some loser!”
“ASTRID!” Her father stared at her, his face not betraying any hint that he had just released a commanding shout in a voice that she had only heard from him when he was leading his tribe in battle.
“Ye’d do well not to disparage the heir of another tribe, especially not one who is to be yer husband. Hiccup is well-respected in his tribe for his tactical mind as well as his prowess in battle against the Red Death. He has made some… mistakes… in the past but he has grown into a remarkable young man. Yer own axe was a gift from Stoick as part of the bride price and it was crafted by Hiccup himself.”
Her mouth flapped open in shock. She reached behind her and fingered the handle of her axe hanging on her back as she contemplated the new information.
“Wait… you gave me this axe before winter had even fully ended. You’ve known since then?!” She looked at her father, bewildered. His face betrayed nothing so she turned to her mother. “Did you know?!”
“Aye, of course I knew. Why d’yah think ah’v been trying to get you to take yer lessons seriously.”
“Un-fucking-believeable,” the words fell from her lips in a barely uttered whisper. Her parents still heard it, of course.
“Astrid!” It was her mother’s turn to yell her name.
Ulf sighed once more then wiped his face with his hand before standing up and walking over to her to put a hand on her shoulder. “Astrid, lass, we’ve done our best to give ye a good life. And this is no exception. Hiccup’s a good man, with a good father and a good tribe. There’s no’ many candidates out there that can say the same, especially ones who are the same age as you.”
“Great, so he’s my age and is ‘good’. What more could I ask for?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Her father sighed yet again and looked down at the floor. His face looked like it had aged considerably from this conversation and for the first time, Astrid saw the man underneath the proud and fearless exterior. Faced with the prospect of leaving him, and her mother, behind for the first time in her life, she realized how much weight her parents truly carried. Her father to be an infallible leader and her mother to be his steadfast support, no matter what situation befell them. It somehow made it hurt worse, then, that they’d be so willing to give her away so easily after all these years of hardship together as a family. She steeled herself.
“Fine. I’ll do it. If you want to be rid of me so badly, then I’ll just go. But don’t expect me to be happy about it. And definitely don’t expect me to get along with any of those Hel beasts they have on Berk.” She turned away from her father and steadfastly walked to her room and shut the door behind her. As soon as she was out of sight, she felt the stinging in her eyes that she knew preceded the tidal wave of tears she was holding back. She slumped to the floor with her back against the door.
She could hear the silence that had filled her absence in the room with her parents. Then, the screech of wood on wood signified her mother had pushed back her chair and stood up followed by the footsteps that carried her towards her father.
They began talking quietly so Astrid pressed her ear to the door to try and eavesdrop.
“...want her to be safe. And if the Gods allow it, happy” Ulf said, his voice more uncertain than she had ever heard it.
“I know, Ulf. But happiness is no’ always an option. And when it comes down to it, I’ll always choose safety over happiness. And who knows, maybe she’ll create her own happiness with the lad. Hel, if we figured it out, so can she.”
She heard her father chuckle, though there was a sadness to it that made her chest feel heavy.
“Aye, that’s true. Worst case, with all that training she’s been doing, she might just be able to fight her way to her happiness. Gods know she could kick Hiccup’s arse.”
They both laughed and a smile grew on Astrid’s face, though it was joined by a stream of tears. Her future was uncertain but, as her parents knew, she was going to fight with all her might to take back control of her life in any way possible.
He better prepare his smug little face because, as far as she was concerned, Hiccup didn’t know what he was getting himself into.