Chapter 1: Calm

Waves lapped gently at the shores of a small island, completely unremarkable from the countless others in the Archipelago. The typically grey and stormy sky above was broken up by the odd ray of sunshine peaking through, offering a bit of stray warmth to those who lived below it. The island held very little in the way of natural resources or stunning beauty, but simply had a value in the sense that it was isolated.

Far from the crowded village Berk but just close enough for a small trip for peace and quiet. And that was exactly what Brunhilda had in mind when she herded her family onto their small boat: a peaceful day of relaxation, naps and hopefully a gaggle of exhausted children she could easily put to bed at the end of the day.

Unfortunately, her husband made all those plans essentially non-existent as he jumped headfirst into the water as soon as they got within swimming distance of the island.

"Last one to the shore smells like Mildews' cabbages!" he laughed uproariously as he cut through the water, leaving her with a crew of stunned children.

This garnered varied reactions from the group ranging from excitement to indignation and finally ending with exasperation as Brunhilda watched six of her seven children leap overboard after their father, barely catching her only daughter from plunging into the dark waters.

"B-but momma!" cried the little girl, barely even breaching the age of three as she met the eyes of Brunhilda, tears already building up behind those blue fierce eyes "If I don't beat them, then I'LL be a smelly cabbage!"

"Astrid Hofferson," began Brunhilda sternly, "I won't take any belly aching from my own daughter, much less a wee warrior such as yourself."

This last comment got Astrid to stop wriggling in her mothers grip, but she did so with a pout. Feeling a pang of guilt, Brunhilda continued with a small smirk. "They're not as smart as us, see."

Astrid looked up at her, surly features replaced with curiousity.

"They'll all get a cold from that fierce water," Brunhilda explained, "And while their picking seaweed and realizing they smell of fish? We'll be nice and dry." This earned a smile from the now consoled toddler, prompting Brunhilda to add "And how about when we land, I'll get off last and be the smelly cabbage?"

She grinned down at the now giggling Astrid, who nodded in understanding and wiped away her tears as the ship gently glided towards the shore, watching the race in earnest until her eldest son jumped victoriously on the beach, taunting a soggy father as he slowly emerged from the water with a pout on his lips.

Several hours had passed since Brunhilda sat herself down on a grassy hill that overlooked the beach, and the small streaks of sunlight had long since disappeared. All around her were the strewn remains of a Hofferson sized lunch, though that any remained at all was a testament to the absolutely savage battle her younger tots had gotten into over it. Looking down to the family in question, Brunhilda couldn't help but glow when she saw them in their natural habitats. Her husband, Achtun, was wrestling her two eldest sons Foot and Inch, and proceeding very methodically as he swung one boy into another and sent them both crashing to the ground.

The two boys were stockier than anyone else in their group, and were starting to hit another wave of growth spurts. It was only a matter of months until they started Dragon Training. Soon, they would be warriors in their own right, maybe even as large and powerful as Achtun.

Speaking of which, that rapscallion of a man had lifted Inch bodily in the air was using him as a makeshift mace. As both boys squawked in alarm, the man cackled madly with mirth. He had always been a hard fighter and even harder taskmaster with his children, but when he cut loose Achtun got caught in the wind. There were still dents in the ceiling of the Great Hall from their wedding after all.

She found her gaze being slowly turned away from the spar to her twins, Arlf and Aftur. The duo were only ten years old, but she was fairly certain they were madder than march hares. The twins had developed some weird, sadistic game and roped the two other boys Hrolf and Bo into it. Taking the resin from one of the few trees on the island, the boys had coated several sticks in thick wads of it and were attempting to get it stuck in each others hair in order to see who could get the most hair.

And while it didn't make sense to Brunhilda, things like these had simply just become apart of the everyday life in a household where there were only two ladies in the hall.

Speaking of ladies, Brunhilda's eyes finally turned to Astrid, far from the pack as she slowly waded through the shallows of the waters on a hunt for seashells, eyes so full of wonder and glee that she looked just as likely to pick up every shell in the ocean rather than leave one behind that may have caught her eyes.

Astrid had always been near and dear to the hearts of the Hoffersons. Not simply because of her age and gender, but of her fierce attitude and loving nature that had already emerged despite her youth.

At one point, Hrolf thought it was good idea to pick on the little girl by pulling the toddlers hair. Instead of a shriek he expected and a laugh from his friends, all the foolish boy got was a broken finger as her hands shot forward and crushed his index in a steel-like grip.

After that, not many would be willing to pick on the little girl, and Hrolf was far more pleasant boy towards women.

Astrid had such a brilliant fire in her, so it had surprised Brunhilda when she found a close friend in the son of Stoick the Vast, a timid shrimp of a boy by the name of Hiccup. The two had been nearly inseparable since both could start walking, and got along famously. There had been enough cursory glances between Achtun and Stoick that tipped her off that a possible match was in the works, but Brunhilda managed to head off her husbands ideas and give him a good thrashing before he could sell off their daughter. He meant well, no doubt, but her oaf of a husband wasn't sparing a thought to what Astrid herself may have to say abut the arrangement ten years from now, Odin bless his heart.

Brunhilda's musings were broken as Achtun approached her from the shoreline, leaving his two opponents to run off towards the boat. .

"I don't like the look of those clouds, id say it's high-time we made for home." He grunted, earning a raised eyebrow from his wife as she snorted and said "Dear, it's always about to rain. It's called the Meridian of Misery for a reason."

This earned a short chuckle from her husband before a dour look returned to his bearded face. "Even so, there's no cover out here and if we leave now we should be able to beat the storm."

Foot clambered aboard the boat as Inch ran over to the cluster of boys, shoved Bo into the sand and told the rest of the boys to get moving. Soon, an entire column of boys was sprinting to the boat, with Astrid lagging behind and giggling as she ran.

Sighing, Brunhilda stood and dusted herself off and wrapped her arm around her husbands as they began to move towards the swiftly prepped boat and the screaming boys who clambered to ready it.

Though Achtun's words still echoed in her mind, Brunhilda looked up to the sky and saw only a few clouds that were darker than normal, and figured her husband was just being overly cautious. She indulged him, because who didn't want a cautious husband?

Still, it was worrisome. With one last glance at the sky, Brunhilda silently prayed Thor would keep her family whole.