Chapter Text
Hiccup watched helplessly as Astrid writhed in pain, thrashing feverishly on her bed. Her hair clung to her sweaty forehead, and her white night dress was sheer in a few places from the moisture. He wanted so badly to gather her up in his arms to comfort her, but he knew the movement would only hurt her worse.
Catia had said it would only get worse. Hiccup wasn’t exactly how it could, but within the last hour Astrid’s pain had nearly doubled. What he would give to take the misery for her. What he would give to take her place—let her live. She had been through so much already, why couldn’t Viggo have just infected him?
He cringed as Astrid arched her back, crying out in pure agony. Tears were streaming down her sweaty cheeks, her glassy eyes fixing on him for a moment. His stomach flipped and his throat tightened. Oh, how desperately he wanted her to have relief! Even if it were just for a moment, just enough time for her to catch her breath.
He slowly took her hand again, gently rubbing her knuckles. She immediately wrapped her fingers around his palm, squeezing so hard he was sure she would break his hand. He didn’t care though. That was nothing compared to the pain she was suffering though, and if it somehow eased her pain, he would let her break both his hands.
She had to be exhausted. She hadn’t gotten any sleep, and had been in absolute agony for most of the night. Hiccup was tired as well, but refused to leave her side until they found a cure. Which they would…they had to, even if it meant that Viggo would win.
He was brought back to the present by a horrible retching noise, and knew immediately that Astrid needed his attention. Viggo could wait.
Hiccup tried to grab the bucket beside the bed before Astrid had the chance to throw up all over herself, but was too late. He grabbed the fur that covered her and held it up under her chin, knowing the mess would simply be easier to clean that way.
She only brought up a clear phlegm, gagging over it so that it left her coughing and gasping for breath. She whimpered and repeated herself, but some of it managed to miss the fur and Hiccup, without hesitation, used his hand to keep it off her.
It was disgusting, of course, but he’d been covered in far worse liquids before. She was finally catching her breathe, and he rolled up the soiled fur, wiping his hand on it.
“Sorry,” she whispered, clearly embarrassed.
“Don’t be,” he replied gently, brushing the hair out of her eyes with his clean hand. “I’m not going through anything compared to you.”
She tried to offer him a smile in return, but was interrupted by a wave of pain that raced through her abdomen. She could help but scream, trying to stile it by gritting her teeth.
Hiccup set the fur to the side, covering her with a fresh one, and cleaned his hand. Sitting down beside his girlfriend again, and brushed the tears off her cheeks. It was so hard to watch her like this. He wished he had a magic potion that could take away her pain, but he didn’t even have an herb to use.
Oh, there were plenty of herbs; she just couldn’t keep it down. They had tried everything: water, ice, tea—nothing helped.
Hiccup twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, longing to kiss her and make her better. He wanted to kick himself. How could he have let Viggo know that Astrid was so important to him? Why couldn’t he have kept his feelings a secret until after the war, when it wouldn’t matter?
If only there was something he could do now to change fate. Astrid didn’t deserve this, and it was only because Viggo knew it would hurt Hiccup. He sighed, Viggo was certainly right. Watching Astrid suffer was ripping his heart out.
The door slowly creaked open, and Catia stepped in. Dark circles bagged underneath her eyes; she had been up studying all night, scouring her books for the cure Ahraya had found.
“Any luck?” Hiccup asked softly, trying his hardest not to disturb Astrid. She seemed to have found a comfortable spot.
Catia shook her head. “Nothing. I guess Ahraya didn’t dare write anything down.” She sighed, walking over to check Astrid. “How is she?”
“She threw up a few more times,” Hiccup replied, continuing to massage her scalp, at last having found something that soothed her.
Catia felt her forehead, Astrid groaning as she did so. Catia shook her head at how incredibly hot her skin was to the touch.
“You were on to something, though,” Catia went on, adjusting the fur that covered Astrid’s feverish body. “There was a reason that there are no single cases of Freya’s Fever. In order to get the Fever, you must have the Scourge first. I think that’s because Perondis is used to cure the Scourge.”
“And one of the side effects is fevers,” Hiccup finished, catching on quickly. “So Perondis causes Freya’s Fever?”
“No,” Catia shook her head. “People who haven’t had the Scourge are treated with Perondis all the time, and they don’t get sick. There is something more, something we’re missing.”
“What kind of something?” Heather said from the doorway.
“Stop sneaking up on us like that!” Hiccup exclaimed, startled by her sudden appearance.
“Sorry,” Heather said with a smile, “I thought you saw me. So what are you missing?”
“I can’t figure out what specifically causes Freya’s Fever,” Catia sighed, sitting down in a chair. “I know that Viggo had something to do with it; the Fever doesn’t just show up. I just don’t know how. Astrid hasn’t been anywhere near Viggo, and Viggo hasn’t been anywhere near her!”
“Viggo?” Heather asked, curious. “You know, Astrid might actually have been somewhere near Viggo.”
“What do you mean?” Hiccup asked, helping Astrid roll onto her side. She groaned a little, but finally settled back down.
“Well, earlier today, or maybe yesterday by this point, Astrid and I were down on the beach. There was an old wooden crate in one of the caves; I told you about it. But there was a Maces and Talons piece next to it. I didn’t pay much attention to it, but I think it was a shield maiden.” Heather stopped short, realizing what she just said. “A shield maiden! Viggo left that crate for Astrid!”
“But why would he leave her a crate full of rotten grass?” Hiccup wondered aloud.
“It was some kind of herb; it looked like thick grass. I don’t think he meant for it to be rotten, though.”
“No,” Catia interjected. “Viggo doesn’t do anything by mistake. He wasn’t it to be rotten. I’m almost positive you’re describing Perondis.”
“So is spoiled Perondis the cause?”
Catia thought for a moment. “There are some herbs that are poisonous if they go rancid. Maybe Perondis is one of them, but the…” she trailed off. Perondis…the Scourge… There was a link! The Scourge of Odin was caused by Buffalord saliva, and cured by the saliva and Perondis. Freya’s Fever was seemingly caused but rancid Perondis. Perhaps the Fever could be countered with saliva. Astrid already had immunity to it, so she couldn’t get any sicker.
Catia’s train of thought was cut short as Astrid’s brief moment of comfort ended, and she seemed in worse pain than she was before. Far worse. Tears were streaming down her face as she screamed in agony, clinging to Hiccup as he tried to console her.
“Roll her onto her side,” Catia instructed, “it helps some.”
Hiccup did so, but the movement only caused Astrid more pain. She moaned and leaned over the edge of the bed, her chest heaving as she hacked up more fluid. This time it was tinted with blood. Hiccup tried to keep her sweaty hair away from her face, still attempting to keep the vomit off the floor.
“We need to do something!” Heather shouted at Catia. “She’ll die from the pain before we find a cure!”
“Go to my hut,” Catia told her. “There’s a small blue bottle on the shelf. Get it, and be careful not to shake it up too much.”
Heather nodded and ran outside, Dagur and Fishlegs pushing past her. “What is going on?!” Dagur yelled above the commotion.
“The sickness works in waves,” Catia tried to explain. “Each one is worse than the other. They ease off for a minute or two, and then came back in full force.”
“Can’t we give her something for the pain?” Fishlegs asked, desperate to find a solution.
“She can’t keep it down!”
“So force it down!” Dagur spit back.
“You don’t do that Dagur, you have to be careful!”
“How careful can you be? It doesn’t matter how careful you are, but amputations still hurt!”
“This has nothing to do with amputations!”
“It sure sounds like it does!”
The arguing continued, but Hiccup knew better than to get involved. He knew very well that Dagur and Fishlegs didn’t know anything about amputations, and there was nothing that could ever prepare them for that pain. But now was not the time to say so. Now was not the time for anything but Astrid.
He knew how much pain she was in, and would have done anything to take it away. Kneeling on the floor beside her bed, doing his best to avoid the wet spot, Hiccup wiped the beads of sweat and tears off her face. “Astrid, look at me,” he whispered, knowing how important it was to have her focus.
She bit her lip and gaze up at him, trying her hardest to keep back a groan.
“I know it hurts,” he went on. “But just listen to me. You can beat this, okay? Don’t give out on us now.” He continued to run his finger through her hair, calming her with the repetitive motion. It was short-lived, however, and she rolled on her back again, her eyes closed. An unbidden moan escaped her lips.
Hiccup’s mind raced. When he had first lost his leg, he had spent weeks on end battling the fever and excruciating pain that accompanied the procedure. Most of it he spent unconscious, but for the times he was awake to suffer through it, he vaguely remembered something his father had done to help him get through it. It was a simple game, not even a game, really. All Stoick had done was lightly tap Hiccup’s arm, and the boy had counted the taps. It wasn’t much, just enough to direct his mind away from the searing pain.
He started to tap Astrid’s arm. “Can you feel that?” He asked.
She nodded, pursing her lips as tears slipped down her cheeks.
“Count how many times I tap your arm. Only think about that, nothing else.” She nodded again, and for a time, the game worked. Hiccup knew how difficult it was to think about anything other than the pain, and as she started to writhe again, he stopped and pulled her closer pressing his forehead to hers. He could feel her hot tears streaming down her face, he could feel her shuddering breaths as she tried to ignore the pain, he could feel the heat radiating from her body, and it was breaking his heart.
Heather finally returned and breathlessly passed Catia the bottle. Catia in turn, briskly walked over to the bed and all but pushed Hiccup out of the way. She propped Astrid’s head up and somewhat roughly poured the liquid into her mouth.
For a moment, Astrid continued to sob in agony, but she gradually quieted and lay perfectly still, though she brought up the liquid a few minutes later.
“Is she in pain anymore?” Fishlegs asked softly.
Catia nodded. “This just makes her too sleepy to respond. It will make it harder for us to care for her, and speeds up the Fever’s progress, but at least she won’t feel all the pain.”
“Please tell me you have a plan,” Hiccup somewhat demanded, standing.
“I do,” Catia started haltingly. “But I don’t know if it will work, and I can’t tell you what it is.”
“Why?”
“Because if it does work, then we’ve found the cure, and I don’t want anyone else to know. I only want Viggo to be able to get the information from me.”
“Can we at least help?” Heather pleaded, willing to do anything to help her friend.
“That,” Catia said with a smile, “is something you might just be able to do.”