A/N: Hello everybody! I'm a new user to Fanfction, but I've read stuff from here for quite a bit! After reading so much awesome stuff, I've decided to try and contribute back to the wonderful fandom. Yada yada yada, in short, loved the movie, new movie got me back into the groove, decided to try hand at writing, and do not own. Please note that this is being done solely by myself, so it'd be great if you guys could help me point out any spelling/grammar etc. errors! Uh, this is getting kinda long... Er, updates will be sporadic, sorry for shortness, I have no idea how to make single line breaks, and please enjoy?
The warning horn blared, and Astrid was jerked awake. Cries of 'Under attack!' and the unmistakable roars of dragons sounded around her.
Leaping to her feet, she piled her hair into a quick plait, sweeping her ax out from underneath her pillow as she did so. She rushed down the stairs as her parents were clambering out of bed, stepping outside into the carnage that awaited.
However, she felt an unknown twinge in her chest as she raised her hatchet.
And the next step she took, she was falling.
A net slammed into her, rope whipping around her limbs, sending her hurtling through the sky. She screeched, her cry a mixture of pain and fear as something ripped free of her body as she wildly clawed at the air, shooting at breakneck pace towards her doom.
And earth rushed up towards her.
Astrid hurt. She hurt all over. What a horrible nightmare that was. She could remember how the branches of trees whipped at her when she fell to earth, the final jarring impact as she smashed into the ground. Now, she was content to just lay there, on the ground.
And then a hard kick to her shoulder made her grunt. She shoved it away.
"You!" A voice snarled, and she snapped awake.
Her breath hitched in her throat.
Staring down at her with searing fury was… Hiccup?
But he couldn't be. In place of his childish face was a complete stranger. A man. Masculine in every way, his features hard and narrow. His bronze hair was tussled, forming a dense mane that framed his handsome face. This couldn't be Hiccup, the childish, clumsy dreamer who was as thin as a toothpick.
But he was. Beautiful eyes like the greenest grass gleamed like jewels as he glared down at her. A dusting of freckles, nearly too light to see, were sprinkled cross the bridge of his nose. His hair was the same shade, and the same expressive eyebrows still perched above his eyes.
She couldn't be sure. This definitely was not what Hiccup looked like, and yet something was telling her that this man was. Astrid's mind was whirling, unable to wrap around the idea, unable to piece things together.
His eyes flashed dangerously, and he swiped his sword in front of him. It was only then that Astrid realized she had leaned forward. She shrunk back, shock silencing her. She had never felt so genuinely afraid, not even in face of a monstrous nightmare.
He growled, sword point following her head. Astrid's eyes widened in fear. She jerked wildly, but she couldn't move. Each thrash restricted her movement more. This man meant to kill her. He meant to do her harm, and she was defenseless.
She was being constricted. Her attempts had become increasingly desperate as he raised his sword above his head, the tip aimed to impale her chest. Her breath labored. She couldn't move. She could barely breathe. She couldn't call for help.
Astrid had never felt so defeated in her life. There was nothing she could do. If this was the gods' intention, so be it. A Hofferson never stopped fighting. The least she could do was die honorably, without a cry of pain.
He drew his sword higher.
She let her head drop onto the ground, sliding her eyes shut.
His growl faded into an annoyed huff.
Before she could comprehend what was happening, she was released. She snapped alert, just in time to see rope starting to pool on the ground. It had been one clean cut, effortlessly slicing through the twine.
She looked up.
He was still there, regarding her coldly, but hardly with his former menace. In its place was something unreadable, almost searching. It was almost… Hurt? Disappointment?
Astrid made a noise, moving towards the man in an attempt to comfort. She wasn't sure why she wanted to sympathize with him, she'd never done so before. But there seemed to be something deeply wounded about his eyes, his expression. Something that tugged at her very being.
But in a moment, it was gone. Sliding into its place was a rekindled anger. He swiped his sword at her again, but half-hearted in its attempt to harm. He shooed at her.
"Leave!" He demanded, taking another swipe as she didn't move. "Leave, before I take your head!" His second swipe nicked her cheek, and she stumbled back numbly. She didn't want to leave.
He snarled at her again, stalking forward. "I won't miss the next time," he threatened. When she again refused to budge, he swung.
She leaped back, scattering away from the blade, but stopped there.
This time, he threw his sword, straight at her head. She darted away, scrambling through the undergrowth. But when she was a few yards away, she paused, taking a glance over her shoulder.
He was still there, standing in the same spot. His sword was embedded in the trunk of a tree. He made a move to grab it.
Astrid turned, and ran deeper into the forest.