He hated this, he really did. Hiccup could've easily written out a list of all the reasons he hated combat training. He'd thought about doing so several times, but he'd never actually done it, because it would've been pointless. Firstly, there was the fact that his father had ordered him into training and had appointed Astrid as his instructor - and Astrid held no qualms about breaking into Hiccup's house and pommelling him in his sleep if he didn't show bright and early at the arena. Secondly, Hiccup seemed to be the only Viking besides Fishlegs that valued logic over brawn, and even Fishlegs was growing less opposed to weapons training now that he was growing into his muscle and learning to use his bulk behind a hammer.
Hiccup wasn't so lucky. Sure, he was taller, now, taller than all the others, in fact. But no one noticed how tall he was because he was still painfully skinny. He had muscles, he would boast sometimes when they picked on him, he really did. But Hiccup's strength was the wiry kind, not the kind a Viking needed to launch an axe or swing a hammer.
He'd resigned himself long ago that he would never be a warrior like Astrid, never the heroic battle hero like his father. Hiccup's strength was in words and strategy. If anything, he would become Berk's first diplomat. Well, so long as he survived long enough to give it a shot.
"Ow!" He yowled pathetically when the broadside of Snotlout's sword smacked his hand again. It hurt his pride more than it hurt his hand, because Hiccup knew his cousin wasn't even trying. In fact, he looked pretty bored. Far too late, Hiccup tilted his sword up in a parry that looked ridiculous because there was nothing to parry now that Snotlout's sword was in another place entirely.
"Come on, Hiccup, you fight like my Grandmother!" Astrid yelled at him, and Hiccup would've scowled if he'd felt it was worth it. Instead, he moved his sword back in between him and Snotlout, and could only think, you've already lost a foot, just don't let him take off your hand, too.
Snotlout lunged, swinging his heavy sword in quick but obvious moves. Hiccup was proud when he managed to block him three times before he was smacked on the wrist by the flat of Snotlout's blade. He hissed, and made a mental note to buy more bandages and salve from Thorn, the village healer. He'd need it in the morning.
"This is ridiculous," Snotlout said, "I can't do this all morning, Astrid, I came here to fight, not to swat at flies!" Hiccup simultaneously felt insulted and sympathetic. He actually felt bad that he couldn't give his cousin enough of a challenge. Apparently Astrid felt the same, because she heaved a heavy sigh and said,
"Alright, fine. If you can break up the twins, you can pair up with one of them. I'll take the other, and Hiccup, you can go practice on the bag." As his cousin and his girlfriend strolled over to tear the bickering Thorstons off of each other, Hiccup slouched, somewhere between feeling dejected and defiant, and shuffled over to the bag. It was a massive straw-filled burlap bag with armor strapped to it and an angry face painted at the top. He glared at the face for a moment. At least they don't expect anything from you, he told it silently before he began swinging.
His wrist felt like jelly no matter how hard he tried to hold it steady. His shield hand clenched around the leather bands, itching to help, but Astrid had already told him that a warrior relied on their offense as well as their defense. In other words, Hiccup couldn't hide behind a shield all the time. He had to constantly remind his shield arm to stay down. He mentally repeated what Astrid had been drilling into him: keep your core tight, the sword is an extension of your arm, move with your swing, let your shield be your balance, footwork, swing, parry, again.
But in the end, it was pointless how long he spent practicing, how many times Astrid told him how to move, how to swing, how to flick and twist and parry and strike. It wasn't his strength, it wasn't his lank, it wasn't even the fact that his left leg ended in a stump and a metal foot. It was all just Hiccup, doing his Hiccup job of making everyday Viking things look impossible.
Hiccup was, as ever, the most useless warrior of all.
After a while, the two sparring pairs finished with each other, but Hiccup didn't notice, so he kept swinging halfheartedly at the bag. As the rest of the teens took a breather, Astrid watched Hiccup keenly, trying to decide what she could possibly do with him to turn him into a passable warrior. Hiccup was tall and wiry, which wasn't in itself all that bad on a battlefield. Astrid herself had always been on the slender side of most warriors, but she'd never let it hinder her progress. Hiccup's real problem, she'd decided, was his incoordination. He looked awkward holding a weapon, like he wasn't sure what to do with it, no matter how many times he'd been told, or shown how. The incoordination in itself was a mystery to Astrid, because Hiccup was a top-notch blacksmith and the best dragon rider on Berk. Both skills required stellar balance, fine motor skills, strength, and quick reflexes.
So why, by Thor, was he so completely hopeless at fighting?
The question rammed about in her head as she watched him, listlessly whacking at the straw bag at one end of the arena. Her eyes caught on his shield hand, which she could see as he moved forward and back. It was tight, and twitching. When he swung with his sword hand, his shield hand moved and stretched, as if it were trying to mime to its twin in an effort to help. Astrid looked back to Tuffnut and Ruffnut, who'd already abandoned their water canteens in favor of more fighting. She watched both of their shield hands closely. Relaxed, steady, clenching only when a defensive move called for action. She glanced back at Hiccup, whose shield hand twisted unconsciously around in the handles. She glanced at his face, and wondered if he knew what his left hand was doing. She looked then to his right hand, clumsy and unbalanced as it darted about, trying and failing to swing a proper blow.
Rather abruptly, Astrid remembered how Hiccup used his left hand for everything. Writing, hammering, eating, carrying things. He opened doors with his left hand, buckled the straps on Toothless' saddle with his left hand, he even used his left hand to turn book pages. She blinked, feeling stupid for not haven't noticed it weeks earlier.
"Alright," She said to the crew, her voice loud and no-nonsense. "Pair up. Fishlegs, go with Tuff. Ruff, you'll be with me. And Snotlout, you'll be with Hiccup.
Snotlout groaned. Hiccup sighed, because he couldn't blame him. Resigned to his fate (and a few more bruises) Hiccup dragged himself away from the bag and stood waiting for Snotlout. His cousin scowled as he approached. "Alright," He said, "If you want another beating, we might as well get this over with." His nonchalance was somehow even worse than his usual taunting.
"Wait," Astrid surprised them both when she stepped in before they could start hacking at each other. Without a word, she stepped over to Hiccup, grabbed the edge of his shield, and yanked.
"Hey!" Hiccup said, because it actually hurt. "Astrid, what are you-" She'd taken his sword away, too, only to shove it into his left hand. She took his right arm and stuffed it into the shield straps. She manhandled his limbs into a fighter's stance before stepping back.
"Alright," She said, crossing her arms, "go ahead."
Hiccup and Snotlout both looked at her as though she'd gone mad, but she just glared at them, and eventually gave a gruff, "Well? Get on with it!" at which point Hiccup cocked a sarcastic yeah, that'll help eyebrow and Snotlout fidgeted to balance himself.
Snotlout went for the first hit, of course, and Hiccup parried him. One, two, three hits, and Hiccup was stepping backwards as Snotlout pressed his offensive. Then, something happened that had never happened before in recorded history. Hiccup saw an opening, and took it, stepping forward into Snotlout's swing. By closing the distance as the bigger boy struck, Hiccup caught his cousin by surprise. His block hit right at the tang of Snotlout's blade, and with a flick Hiccup's wrist, Snotlout's weapon went clattering to the ground.
Nobody moved. Haddock and Jorgenson stared at the grounded blade in equal disbelief. Where neither of them were looking, Astrid allowed a sly grin to overcome her face.
"Left handed," she offered eventually, as the boys continued to stare. "Sorry I didn't notice sooner, Hiccup."
Both boys looked up at her, slack-jawed. They looked at each other, and then back at the sword, and then back at Astrid. Out of his surprise, Hiccup beamed at her. She smirked back at him, and spared Snotlout a good luck with him now glance. "Winner faces me next," She told them, and with that, she scooped up her shield, heaved up her axe and sauntered away. "Alright, Ruff, time for my axe to split your skull."
"In your dreams, Hofferson!"
The boys watched her go before Snotlout turned around to look at his cousin. He glanced apprehensively at Hiccup's left hand, which was now holding a sword. "Alright, fine, but you cannot be better at this than me, okay?" He growled, his eyes suddenly revealing that he saw Hiccup as a rising threat.
Hiccup shrugged with an incredulous little squeak, because he didn't want to be better, not really. He just wanted to escape with all three-and-a-half of his limbs still intact and a passable ability to keep himself alive.
After two more rounds and a few successfully bruise-worthy hits on Snotlout, Hiccup's eyes wandered over to Astrid, admiration spreading across his face. She really was a battle-savvy shieldmaiden, wasn't she? Even for shields that didn't belong to her. Although… Hiccup thought privately, I don't think I would really mind if my shield belonged to her… In his distraction, Hiccup didn't see his cousin raising his sword.
"Alright, loverboy," An angry Snotlout snarled, "you ogle, I'll pommel." Snotlout lunged, and Hiccup yelped.
Astrid had heard them, and snorted to herself. She'd have to teach Hiccup not to be distractible on the battlefield. But then, not all combat lessons could be taught in one day.