So, hi everybody. It's been a long time huh? Well, I finally found the time to sit down and finally write out this plot that had been aggravating my head ever since I started college. Huh, college, really makes you work. But it's all good. So here's a new story, if you've read my previous story "How to Be a Slave" it is going to have some similarities as that was the inspiration of thinking, hey, why shouldn't I make a story revolved around Astrid? So here's the first chapter of said story, it's not my best but I hope you enjoy it. Please review and thanks for reading!

Disclaimer, I own nothing.

~Soldier78~

The Viking and the Slave

Chapter 1

Astrid Hofferson never really thought about the world away from her own. She's flown to several island nearby Berk, but never thought about these other cultures she had heard from old warriors. Come the first thaw, the Vikings on Berk didn't waste any time in loading up boats to go visit these islands and reap their riches. It was splendor, the amount of gold, silver and jewels these Vikings brought back were wonderful and especially tradable. It made Berk very popular among the Barbaric Archipelago.

With winter officially thawed and the Summer Blòt celebrated, farming and fishing picked up again and so did the expeditions.

"Take care of yourself, Hoffer. Bring back much treasures." Astrid heard her mother, Gerda, tell her father.

"Don' worry, there will be plenty of riches to add to our collection." He said. Astrid smirked, most of those riches would be invested in armor or weapons. As Hoffer hiked his travel sack onto his back and adjusted the longsword that stayed attached to his hip, he looked at his daughter. "Do what you are told."

She watched her father depart out the door without another word or even gesture. Astrid took a moment to frown but decided against thinking about her father's gruff mannerisms. Instead, she casted a look at her mother.

"Mum, I need to go to the Dragon Academy." She informed. "Hiccup-"

"Ach, fine." Gerda waved off. "Skirt yer chores just to spend time with that one-legged ragr."

It wasn't unusual that they atoned the son of the Chief with that slur. It kind of baffled Astrid because that was a term for cowardice. Hiccup wasn't a coward, in fact, he was the one who saved the entire tribe from destruction when he defeated the Red Death, giving way for an eternity's peace with the dragons, once lifelong enemies, now friends. And, since the peace, there had been other instances that Hiccup had shown more bravery than any other man in the village. So, ragr? A coward? Vikings must have a limited vocabulary.

Astrid eventually left the house after doing her chores under her mother's scrutinizing glaze. She trotted out the house, drawing a sharp whistle to call her dragon. With ease, she mounted on Stormfly, stroked her blue scales and smiled, joyfully.

"Hyah!"

The Deadly Nadder took to the air and Astrid took her chance to breathe in the sweet salty air and bask in the warmth of the summer sun. She then averted her gaze to the departing ships, destined to bring back even more wealth. Astrid remembered a conversation with Hiccup once, talking about these operations.

"Another season of slaughtering and stealing." Hiccup had said when the green grass was beginning to become more prominent than the snow. "And what good does these riches they bring back do us?"

"We become wealthy." Was Astrid's response, as pathetic as it was. Hiccup was the king of debate.

"Yes, but can we become too wealthy?"

"Too wealthy?"

"That is my main concern Astrid, we go out there, slaughtering monks and defenseless villages, take their gold and silver. Word goes out to the entire Barbaric Archipelago and we become the target for war."

"But our wealth asserts our power, Hiccup. We have dragons, we have a mass storage of weaponry. There hasn't been a Viking attack in years. We still have the upper hand."

"Admiring me, aren't you Astrid?" came a boastful call to her right. She shook her head and noticed Snotlout Jorgenson and his Monstrous Nightmare, Hookfang, sidled up to the Nadder.

"In your dreams, Snot-boy." Astrid said with a disgusted scoff and nudged Stormfly's side. "Go on, girl."

"Well, the gang's all here." Hiccup welcomed as he dismounted off of Toothless. As the norm, next to him stood a distracted Stormfly and Astrid with her arms folded. He greeted the entire Dragon Rider unit and gestured to their visitor for the day. "Today, we're going to learn how to fight while on the back of dragons."

There was a prominent hand raise in the small crowd of teenagers.

"Yes, Tuffnut." Hiccup called like a teacher. Tuffnut lowered his hand and had that comical look of confusion he presented in almost every class.

"I thought we already know how to do that. Dragons spit fire, you know." He stated, matter-of-factly. Astrid huffed and took a step forward, unfolding her arms as she began to use them to explain the true purpose of this lesson.

"The concept is to be able to wield a weapon and aid your dragon." Astrid said, which still befuddled the blonde twin. She gave an indigent huff. "You're shooting arrows at your attacker while your dragon spits fire."

Tuffnut remained silent for a while, until he raised one finger this time.

"But what if I want to watch my dragon spit fire?"

Before Astrid could lose her temper which Hiccup was good at picking up the cues, Gobber stepped forward just as Hiccup placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Today, we will begin with the basic skill of archery." Gobber introduced, picking up a bow from the stack and showing it to his class. "First, we'll begin with just on the ground. You will each take your turn to shoot that target. Hit the bullseye and you are ready for the next level which is too be able to shoot on the back of your dragon."

"Right." Hiccup took a step forward. "Everyone grab a bow."

Astrid was surprised how impassive Hiccup was towards this situation. Usually, when it was handling any weaponry that wasn't a dagger, he'd show reluntance and mumble how he was too weak to wield such a weapon. But today, Hiccup picked up that bow as gracefully as all the other Vikings and grabbed his quiver of arrows.

Astrid was the last to grab hers and she admired the bow, sculpted out a yew tree and had entire power to kill a man as far away as a Gronkle's blast. She picked up her quiver and settled it on her back. Snotlout volunteered first, able to hit the target on the first try. He casted Astrid a seductive gleam which she ignored and watched Hiccup walk up to the line next.

He fired his first shot and she was impressed how close it had been. Just a few inches away from the big red blot. He set another arrow and pulled back the string. Hiccup must've gotten stronger to be able to pull that arrow back that far. Astrid smiled in pride and Hiccup released his shot. The iron tip sunk deep into the red and into the hay, hitting the post that held the target.

"Well done, Hiccup!" Gobber praised. His perfect shot stunned the entire arena, except for Astrid who smiled, admiring the boy. Gobber looked at Astrid. "Astrid, yer up."

She took a nervous deep breath but walked up to the plate. She deftly took an arrow from her stock and settled it against the bow, notching it. She drew back the drawstring and aimed. One eye closed, she licked her lips and fired.

There was silence. And there was hurt.

The arrow had only knicked the top of the target. Astrid huffed in frustration, perhaps the long morning affected her performance. She drew another arrow and tried again.

Clang!

The iron tip did not even hit the target, just the wall behind it. Astrid stared at it in shock but heard obnoxious cackling from behind.

"I don't believe it!" Ruffnut laughed aloud. "She doesn't have any aim!"

Tuffnut joined in on the laughter, even Snotlout. She scowled at them and was about to bang some heads together but she looked to see Hiccup…and a small smile that disappeared quickly when he saw her icy glare. But it was still there.

"Can hold an axe, can hold a sword but can't fire a single arrow! Some daughter of Hoffer Hofferson!" hooted Snotlout. In frustration and masking hurt, she chucked the quiver and bow onto the ground and jumped onto the back of Stormfly.

"Where are you going?" Hiccup asked, his voice was laced with suppressed laughter. Astrid glared at him but didn't say a word, she just commanded Stormfly to leave.

Astrid wouldn't return until twilight that same day. After the incident in the Dragon Academy, she hid herself in the forest and took her anger out on trees. She threw her axe wildly at the trees, not even caring about a thing called aim. It was completely ironic, she could throw an axe no problem but when it came to the damn lightness of an arrow, she was defeated.

But, she entered the home where she was greeted by a scolding mother.

"Gone all day, huh?" her mother said from the hearth in the middle of the living space.

"Mum…" she was interrupted sharply by her mother.

"Sit down, dinner's ready." She barked. Astrid complied after putting her axe in the corner to grab later. Gerda returned with two hot bowls of stew and the two women began to dig in.

"So…" Gerda cleared her throat awkwardly. "I've heard some things, sweetheart."

Astrid tried not to scoff at how fake-affectionate that endearment became and shoveled a spoon full of broth into her mouth.

"Like what?" Astrid said after she swallowed a hearty bite. As much as she sometimes found her mother as frustrating as her father, she found her cooking quite good and fulfilling.

"I overheard the Thorston Twins earlier, saying "Astrid the Aimless."

Astrid almost dropped her spoon, her brow creased in fury but Gerda scoffed at her sudden display of anger.

"Ech, Child, do not be angry with the twins. It is you who can't fire an arrow."

Astrid didn't even look at her mother. Gerda scoffed again and reached forward, grabbing her daughter's hand. Though it was meant to be warm and comforting, all Astrid felt was cold and ice.

"You are the daughter of Hoffer the Sharp. As his only child, you are supposed to live up to his name."

Astrid casted an incredulous look at her mother and snatched her hand away from her, sheathing it under the table as she continued to eat without another word. Gerda only scrutinized at her poorly-performed daughter.

To be continued.

Please, click that button.