warning: murder & attempted assault occur in this chapter
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eulogy for home
part one / / fear is a superpower
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Astrid was certain she was the only one on the island that actually enjoyed the weather.
As far as Viking tribes went, there weren't many further south than the Smelly Scoundrels. Fogg Island was a strange, sticky anomaly (as far as summer was concerned) with air so thick she could practically drink it. When winter came, Astrid resigned to thick furs and numb toes. But for a few glorious weeks of the year, she reveled in the way her hair plastered to her forehead and how her sweat slicked her skin, how it made it salty as the sea. The weather was, dare she say, kinda sorta warm. She refused to do any other work other than fish during the summer. From dawn to dusk she was on their dock repairing boats, sails, and nets, before she took off to drown in a breeze that didn't chap her skin absolutely raw.
But today it was raining. And while rain made the air stickier and more to her liking, it made fishing and sailing conditions unpleasant and often impossible. Astrid could hear the rain the moments she woke up, a pitter patter against her window and decided a personal day was in order. But that meant she needed to move fast, before her grandparents got up and gave her more advice on how to be a respectable young lady of Viking society.
Bleh.
Ironically enough, she chose a dress to wear that morning. She liked to keep her pants and shirts clean for fishing, and she got a certain satisfaction out of ruining the hem of every dress she owned by trekking through the mud. The blue fabric was large and bulky as she slipped it on, her waist only appearing when she tied a spare piece of leather right underneath her bust. Astrid wove her hair in a loose, messy braid before she abandoned the idea of the front door entirely. She opened her window, reached for her axe-
Empty space. It wasn't there.
Damn. Bugeyes still had it.
She let out a heavy breath, her dress gaping a hole at the front as her chest concaved, then filled with air once more. Fingers drummed against the splintering wood of her window frame as she weighed her options.
She really, really wanted her axe.
Bugeyes it was.
As Astrid trekked through her sleepy village, she enjoyed the solitude. In summary, the Smelly Scoundrels were a bunch of lazy muttonheads. No one really got up early these days unless there was a sign of danger or a battle cry for war. Their chief wasn't the most agreeable man: all Astrid's life it seemed her people were picking fights with someone or something but as for now? Nothing. They were due for another pointless war though. It was only a matter of time.
It was only a matter of time for a lot of things, she supposed.
But, if there was one person who woke up earlier than her it was Bugeyes. He was Fogg's best blacksmith, even if no one else realized it. He was 14, and only an apprentice, but Astrid had seen his work, seen what he was capable of. Old Man Muck had nothing on his craftsmanship. Not that anyone on Fogg cared about craftsmanship.
But at least Bugeyes made sneaking weaponry easier for her.
The forge was already heated up when she got there. He was tinkering away with something she didn't recognize. His face was covered in one of his own inventions-scopes for his eyes to see better, made from glass that gave his eyes the very bug-like quality he was named for. The strap that held them in place around his head was a little loose and Astrid had a desire to snap it, but she learned that lesson months ago. They both had scars from the sparks that flew when she snuck up on him last. So she waited for him to finish.
"Hey, Astrid," he eventually greeted as he set his hammer aside and wiped his brow with a dirty sleeve. She could see the grime in his blonde bangs, a color only slightly darker than her own hair. "Your axe is ready, it's round back. Just go grab it."
A genuine smile tugged at her lips as she slipped past him to head to weapons storage. Bugeyes always hid her axe behind an old piece of wood in the back so no one would find it. Sharp, clean, and the handle a little worn like she liked it, Astrid twirled it in her hand and headed back to the front of the forge.
Astrid couldn't afford to pay Bugeyes for his work. She wanted to, he deserved her money, but she simply didn't have any. And Bugeyes, bless his soul, didn't care. Not entirely. He accepted other types of payments. Fighting lessons, extra fish, or even a piece of gossip she had picked up in town usually did the trick. Today she decided to go with the latter. "Boats should be due back any day."
This wasn't gossip, and Bugeyes knew this. He regarded her with a look beyond his years that she supposed was to make her feel like a foolish, young girl, before he went back to hammering at a sword. "Eagerly awaiting Gout's sail home, yeah?"
He was just teasing, she knew this, but it still grated on every nerve she had these days. With a small scowl, Astrid gripped her axe a little tighter and eyed nothing in particular behind him. "I hope he gets lost," she pouted, with all the petulance of a child.
Bugeyes smirked; he didn't like Gout, either. Astrid had a hard time coming up with a list with anyone who did. "That's cruel." Bugeyes shook his head. "He could end up on another village's island and then they'd have to deal with him."
Like she cared. "Better them than me."
A shrug. "You gotta admit: he's at least better than the chief."
She could admit that to herself. Anyone on this island was better than the chief. But just because Gout wasn't the tyrannical, red-faced, barbaric leader that his father was didn't make him a tolerable human being. He was annoying.
Astrid lifted her chin a bit, grinding her molars. "That doesn't mean I want to marry him," she admitted, a far better admission than the one Bugeyes was fishing for.
He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, bug eyes even wider behind those silly glasses. "You're marrying Gout?"
"I heard Scab talking about it," she shrugged, trying to play it off like a meaningless piece of gossip. "She heard it from her dad that the chief and my grandfather are going to talk contracts when Gout and them all return."
Bugeyes scoffed before he lifted his hammer and took a particularly hard swing to his work. The forge echoed loudly and sparks flew at her feet. "I hope he gets lost," he grumbled.
The scowl on Astrid's face relaxed, as well as she grip on her axe, and she set it aside and out of the way. "Careful," she warned playfully, "Without Gout here, you'd probably have to marry me one day."
He flushed, refusing to look her in the eye. "I really dodged a hammer strike there, didn't I?" he teased, ducking on instinct when Astrid went to thump him on the head. When he was certain she wouldn't go for a second hit, he straightened, wiping his brow once more. "But the future chief's wife, that's not so bad, is it?"
Theoretically, she supposed it was. Being a chief's wife had its perks: best home, best food, and best clothes. But being Gout's wife sounded like a nightmare above all else. Take all the wifely things she'd have to do, like having Grout's grubby snot-nosed children, and add her inevitable loss of complete autonomy and sanity, and Astrid really really wished that Gout would get lost at sea.
All in all, it was very upsetting to think about. So she tried not to. His question she dubbed rhetorical went unanswered.
Astrid's eyes focused back on Bugeyes, the scopes on his eyes distracting and mesmerizing. It was the only thing she'd ever seen him make that wasn't some kind of weapon. This time, she didn't ignore the itch to reach over and snap the strap holding them to his face.
He caught her hand right before she got her fingers underneath the leather. "I'm working with very hot metal. Don't."
Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away, poking at one of the rims of the scopes before she kept her hands to herself. "Do you ever make anything else?"
"What, other than swords and axes? I can make maces."
She shook her head. "No, I meant….do you make other things that aren't weapons? Like the scopes?"
Bugeyes frowned, fiddling with the contraption with two fingers as he sets his hammer down completely. "I only made these to see detail when I'm working." He took them off and handed them to her to see, as if she needed proof that they're makeshift and sloppy out of necessity. "It wasn't for fun."
Her expression mirrored his, one of confusion. As soon as she put them on her face her head instantly ached and she ripped them off with sour look. "But do you make anything just because?" She handed them back.
"We don't have a lot of spare metal; I can't make stuff just because."
Astrid wasn't deterred. "It doesn't have to be metal. Maybe wood? It's not like the forest is short on trees. You know, Gnat has these carvings-"
His face hardened instantly at the name and he picks up the hammer again, sparks exploding in the forge in seconds. "I don't want to hear it."
"Bug-"
"No," he said firmly, swinging the hammer one last time with a heavy thud. His posture sagged with the effort and he winced, rolling his left shoulder a few times before he turned his back to her, fiddling with some other villager's order. "Maybe you should go practice," he suggested. "Red and Finn both said they'd be around early to pick up their things. Don't want to get caught, right?"
She'd upset him. He was kicking her out, nicely. The rain outside had dwindled into a light sprinkle which meant that maybe the fisherman would try going out. At the least, they'd spend the day repairing the boats and she did not want to do that. So, maybe he was right. She'd practice. "Yeah, okay," she grumbled, grabbing her axe with both hands. "Bye, Bugs."
He looked up briefly. "…Have a nice day, Astrid," he whispered and she gave a reluctant smile. Bugeyes had never gotten so upset with her that he didn't say goodbye.
The walk to the forest was always a long one. Fogg Island was pretty big, but not many Vikings really went beyond the actual village, not unless they wanted to go the springs or get more firewood. So, every time that Astrid wanted to practice her axe throwing and whatnot, she passed the springs, and main forest and kept going. Eventually, the forest would get so thick that one could get lost if they didn't know the way. Luckily, though, someone had carved small designs in the trees over the years to help keep one on the path: First there was a bumblebee, then an ant, then a beetle, and finally, a butterfly.
Astrid spared Gnat's house one glance before she continued the short walk up to her secret practice meadow.
The fog was particularly thick on Fogg that day; almost too thick to throw anything. But Astrid gave it her best shot anyhow. She probably chucked her axe into the same tree about two dozen times before she was already sick of it. The humidity was eating her alive. She felt like a cloud full of water. It rolled down the back of her neck and soaked the collar of her already soaked dress. The rain was starting to pick up and she was suddenly both overheated and cold, a sweaty mess with chattering teeth in the middle of the forest. Her arms felt heavy yet her lungs felt light and she just wanted to run, but where to—
Thunder rolled somewhere along the horizon as the fog started to clear with the wind. She lifted her head to the sky, embracing the rain as it fell heavier against her cheeks and matted her hair to her head.
The rain was loud, but it wasn't loud enough to disguise a clunking against a tree trunk. Astrid lowered her head and turned around to see Gnat standing there with a walking staff, decked out in some kind of attachable cover that kept the rain off her. She beckoned Astrid to come over and she obeyed, dragging her axe through the mud.
Gnat looked amused, but she didn't say anything. Gnat never said anything; in all the times that Astrid has seen her over the past years, she'd never spoken a word. No one in the village knew what her voice even sounded like anymore, nor did they care. She technically wasn't a part of the village anymore; whether it was by choice or by force, Astrid wasn't sure.
She led Astrid back to her home, a little hut nestled between two trees and semi-hidden in a bunch of ferns. It was incredibly small with a terrible roof, but it felt…warm, despite the isolation of it all. The façade of her home was adorned in the same carvings on the trees that led her up here: bees, ants, beetles and butterflies. She supposed gnats were too small and difficult to carve.
Astrid had only been in Gnat's home once, and that was three years ago when she first started to practice her weaponry constantly: a mishap with her sword let to a nasty cut on her leg. Gnat had seen her limping on her way back to the village, pulled her aside, and fixed her right up, good as new. Their village didn't have a designated healer after their elder Agnes died; a few women here and there knew enough to fill her place, but it seemed Gnat alone had all the herbs and supplies to fix any illness or wound a village could have.
Maybe being alone for ten years forced one to learn all this stuff.
The place looked the same as it did before; whittled carvings littered half her shelves and walls while pottery, plates, and bowls filled the other. One wall was completely dedicated to all of Gnat's weapons: an axe, a mace, two swords, a shield, two bows and countless knives and arrows. But unlike all the others in Astrid's village, she didn't use furs for decorations up on the walls or doors. The only ones she had were lining her winter clothes or being used as blankets for a bed.
Astrid took a seat on the floor by her hearth, fiddling with the hem of her skirt and wrapping her arms around herself in a poor attempt to get warmer. Gnat busied herself making what looked like some sort of broth, which made Astrid excited. She had skipped out the house that morning without eating anything.
Whatever Gnat handed her in the end was delicious. The broth's warmth spread from her chest to the rest of her body and after a few minutes, Astrid could hardly remember that she had been damp and cold. "Thanks…" She mumbled when Gnat took her bowl away with a gentle smile. For a moment, she considered asking what was in the broth, but it wasn't like Astrid was much of a cook anyhow. All she knew was how to fry fish. "How are you?" she asked instead.
Gnat took her hand and waved it back and forth in a gesture of "meh," her nose scrunched in mild distaste as she pointed to a small bucket in the corner that was collecting water from a leak in her roof. The noise was kind of bothersome. Astrid let out a breathy laugh and curled further into herself and closer to the fire. "I could fix your roof," Astrid finally offered, teeth still chattering a bit. "I'd have to sneak out some supplies, but—"
With a soft shake of her head, Gnat buried that idea six feet under.
Astrid sighed. "I promise I can be sneaky. No one will even know I took anything," she pressed. "You're sure you don't need any help?"
Again, Gnat pointed to the bucket.
"The bucket isn't a long term solution." Astrid played with her soiled hem. "But fine. Have fun fixing your soggy roof by yourself."
Gnat grinned and Astrid could see her teeth, straighter and whiter than the average Scoundrel. After she fitted a spare fur from her bed around Astrid's shoulders, she made herself her own bowl of broth as they listened to the rain slowly let up until the drips in Gnat's bucket were faint, sporadic drops of water.
The broth was still warm in her belly when she decided to leave. She could feel Gnat's eyes following her as she placed the furs back near her bed and headed to the door. There was a tap on her shoulder and Astrid whirled around to see Gnat holding a bottle of….sludge.
At her questioning expression, Gnat rolled her shoulder, pointed to Astrid's shoulder, and then at her axe. It was for her muscles and sore shoulder, the one that always ached after she threw her axe around for the first time in a good while.
"Oh," Astrid whispered as Gnat gently shoved the bottle in her hand, wrapping her hand around it in forced acceptance. "Thanks. You can always tell, can't you?"
She shrugged before nodding at the door.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." She popped the door open with her good shoulder as she held her axe in one hand and the ointment in the other. "You owe me throwing lessons though, don't forget it."
Another shrug, only this time it was accompanied by that pretty smile, a smile that Astrid stared at until it disappeared behind the door.
With a heavy sigh, Astrid slumped over, her axe wedging itself in the mud. She could already feel her shoulder starting to ache and it felt heavy, as heavy as her desire to not go home any time soon. Honestly, she'd rather sleep in the cold mud than go home and face the possibility that Gout had returned.
She took her sweet time to get back to the village, and it was well past high noon when she returned. Her eyes caught sight of the docks below—they were as empty as she left them, to her relief.
The village was bustling with more people when she returned, so she hid her axe behind the forge like she always did before she scampered through the middle of the village. With her soaked dress and mud-ridden hem, Astrid stuck out like a sore thumb, but the others were used to this kind of appearance from her. If she wasn't covered in mud, she smelled like fish and sweat, her hair tossed from the winds when she was on her boat. Astrid was as ostracized as it came without actually being excommunicated, which was kind of a sweet spot in her opinion. But it did make her wonder.
What did Gnat do that made her escape miles away from the village?
"Astrid!"
She turned her head and saw Scab jogging towards her, a basket of linens under one arm. A smaller basket of needles lay on top and for the umpteenth time, Astrid thought about asking to borrow them to try her own hand at sewing. "What's up, Scab?"
Her breath was haggard as she leaned over, one hand on her knee. The basket was still tucked to her hip. "Where have you been?"
This was new. Usually Astrid could get away without episode, the exception being her grandparents. No one else usually cared that she was gone for hours. Something must have happened. "Something the matter?"
Scab set the basket down before she reached for Astrid's arm and tugged her aside, away from prying gazes and sensitive ears. "It's official," she whispered, her eyes a little wild and twitchy, a strange trait she had when she was nervous or excited. The rest of her would stay still but her eyes would never still.
Immediately, Astrid's heart sunk straight down to her feet and her stomach churned. Somehow, she knew exactly what she meant. "The marriage contract?" she asked, hoping she was wrong.
Scab gave a reluctant nod. "The chief just asked me and my mom to make your wedding dress."
This was her worst nightmare. What was a rumor, something that she could pretend would never happen, was coming to fruition right in front of her. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I wish I was."
"What about Gout, he's not even back-"
"Apparently, he gave his consent before he left. That or…" she took a deep breath. "The chief just doesn't care. And you know that could very well be the case."
Astrid swore.
"Listen, I'm right there with you," Scab looked strangely…sympathetic. It wasn't one of her stronger traits. "Can I come with you tomorrow?"
"On my boat?" she rubbed at her eyes, suddenly exhausted even though it was only just past noon. "It's not my turn to go out and fish, I'm just doing maintenance tomorrow."
"We're going to go fishing anyway," Scan insisted. "I'll help you fix the boat or whatever just…" Scab closed her twitching eyes and took a deep breath. "Go home, stay home, and then wake up early and go to the docks. I'll meet you there. Just whatever you do, avoid town. People are going to give their congratulations."
Astrid swore again, rubbing more deliberately at her eyes. Whatever anyone said, she wasn't crying. "We don't want that."
"No, you don't," Scab sighed. "Just….get out of here, yeah? I'll bring your axe home later."
Her head snapped up in shock and she readied herself with an excuse. "What are you-"
"I know everything that's anything, Astrid," she said gently, flicking her brown hair behind her shoulder. "Don't know exactly where you go, but I know you're out there chucking that axe."
Fear gripped her. "Does-"
"No one else knows, not that I know of." She paused and looked behind Astrid, eyes unfocused. "Old Man Muck is coming this way, I'd leave now. He's going to bombard you about babies, I can sense it."
Astrid fisted her dress in her hands and nodded. "Thanks."
Her fingers were still fisted in her dress as she walked back to her house, intent on giving her grandparents a good screaming at. Astrid kept her head high and her eyes dead ahead and it managed to scare off any villager who wanted to talk about the news. When Astrid Hofferson got that look in her eye, everyone knew to steer clear.
"Grandfather!" Astrid yelled as she entered her house. She made sure to slam the door loudly behind her. "Why did I have to hear from Scab that I'm getting married? Shouldn't I be the first to know these things?" Her face contorted into a snarl as she fiddled with the leather sash underneath her belt. It was suddenly too tight and heavy, weighed down with rainwater as she stood in the threshold of their home, her dress dripping a puddle by her feet. She kicked off her shoes. "I swear to all that is good on this green island if I'm actually engaged to Gout-"
Astrid walked into the next room and saw her grandparents seated at their kitchen table, the Chief resting on the other side. A man she didn't recognize stood in the corner looking out the window, his back to her.
"Oh," she mumbled, anger making way for fear that essentially knotted her tongue. "Hello, Chief Clout."
Chief Clout was a terrifying man in more ways than one. He was six feet even with an ugly goatee and an even uglier braid that fell all the way down his back. All of his features were dark: his hair, his eyes, his clothes. The pinkish, freckled skin of his arms and face was the only thing that made him look anything like a Viking. His face rested in a permanent scowl unless his dumbass son had made some mediocre accomplishment and then he would smirk, looking unsavory and diabolical. The adults in her village revered him. Men boasted of his warrior skills and women fawned over his strength and large muscles, but every single child in the village was afraid of him. Astrid had not seen one baby that didn't burst into tears upon sight of him.
All in all, Astrid did not want him as a father-in-law, perks be damned.
"Good Afternoon, Astrid." Even his voice was unappealing. It had a harsh quality to it, like he was always about to yell, even though he rarely did.
She waited for Chief Clout to fill in the gaps of what she didn't know but he never did. "Scab is right," her grandmother finally said. "The chief has chosen you to marry his son. Isn't that an honor?"
Technically it was. Everyone could recognize it. But everyone could also recognize that this was a miserable arrangement for Astrid, and her grandmother was no exception. She was trying and succeeded to put up a front in front of the chief, and Astrid figured she owed her family to try and do the same.
"Yes," she said quietly. "Very much so."
She'd figure a way to get out of this later. She would.
She had to.
The giant of a man in the corner turned his head, lending an ear to the conversation but he still didn't turn around.
"When's the wedding?" Astrid asked, hoping that maybe she had another year or two to wrap her head around all this.
She didn't like the answer. "End of summer."
That was in three weeks. "So soon? Are you….are you sure that's a good idea?"
It was a dangerous game to question the Chief's decisions, especially when you were a woman. Sure, Astrid got away with a lot of things since her parents had died and she had no brothers or uncles to help take care of her grandparents, but even she wasn't immune to such social faux paus.
Clout stared at her before nodding slowly. "I'm sure. My son deserves a beauty such as yourself." She felt violated with his eyes on her. "I'll have someone bring some mutton over to help fatten her up." What the hell was she, a boar? "She's a little small; it's not very good for bearing children."
Astrid was almost eighteen years old, well past the age for bearing children, but that didn't mean she liked the idea of motherhood so soon. Goodness, she could be pregnant in a month. The thought almost had her gagging. "Children?" she echoed weakly.
"My son will be chief soon. In a few years when I pass the job to him, I'd like him to have a few children by then, and certainly a son."
Multiple children? In just a couple of years? Astrid's whole body ached at the thought and she screwed her mouth shut. Better not to say anything at all.
"We understand," her grandfather intervened. "That would be very kind of you, sir. Thank you."
The chief grunted and while the conversation seemed pretty much over, he didn't make any move to get up. Astrid focused past him to the mysterious man who finally turned around and shit, was he ugly: a taller, more evil version of the chief himself. Suddenly she felt watched and hunted.
"Hello?" she said, looking to her grandparents for an explanation. They looked as bewildered as she was. "Are you a friend of the chief's?"
"Business associate," Clout grunted. "He needs boats. Isak and his men make the finest south of the archipelago." That was true. Everyone at the trading posts always said Fogg's boats were the best around.
But the man looked like there was something else on his mind. "Young girl," he said, his voice as sinister as she imagined, "Have you ever seen a dragon?"
Astrid blinked. She was not expecting that. "No? I mean, I've heard of them." She'd seen carvings of them at Gnat's house and she thought that maybe she'd seen one in the sky before, but it might have been her imagination. "But I've never seen one. No dragon has ever come here….right?" she looked to at the others for clarification. Had there been dragon sightings? Was her island going to be one of the first to join what seemed like a fabled war?
"That's what I've been telling him," Clout sighed. "He just wants to make sure there aren't any here."
"Oh," Astrid straightened her back, feeling relieved. "Well, no, there aren't any dragons here. This island is very safe."
The man snarled a bit and adjusted his cape: black and scaly, nothing that Astrid had ever seen. She'd remembered the stories of what dragons supposedly looked at and almost gasped. Could he be wearing dragon scales? She dared not ask. "So it seems," the man harrumphed. "We should talk boats, Clout."
Astrid had never heard someone call the chief without his title but if there was someone scary enough to get away with it, it was this guy. The chief obliged with his own grunt and stood from her table, heading for the door. "When Gout returns, we'll meet again," he told them, and the two men walked out, the door closing heavily and ominously behind them.
She waited a good twenty seconds after the door closed before she ripped into it. "Gout!?" She growled. "You can't be serious!"
Her grandmother cradled her head in her hand, looking exhausted. "This winter will likely be brutal, dear. And we love you, you know we do, but we can't wait for someone like Bugeyes or Isak to be ready to marry. Gout is ready and he has resources and status and food."
"You'll starve without him," her grandfather croaked. "We all will."
"I fish!" she snarled. "I'm a fisherman! I can get us food!"
But her grandparents still looked guilty. "The chief talked to us about that. He's made the exception since your parents died to take over your father's job, but now that you're a young woman, he said he can't allow you to do a man's job anymore," her grandmother explained.
This was ridiculous. "So I don't fish for the whole village….I can just…I can just fish for us! I'll get up real early, no one will have to know—"
"Astrid," her grandfather said quietly. "There's more to it than that. There's carpentry that needs to be done, things that needs to be sewn. You can't do everything alone."
She felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes. "I'm not alone, I have you two. Why are you talking like this?"
"The winter is likely to be brutal," her grandfather repeated and she saw the sadness in the corners of his eyes and the downward tilt of his lips. Her heart sank.
"You won't die," she whispered angrily. "Both of you will be fine. The sickness can't be any worse than it was last year, okay, you'll be fine."
Her grandfather sighed while her grandmother took a more visibly frustrated approach. She balled her hand in a fist and banged it on the table a bit. "Astrid! That is not a guarantee. You know this. I hope that me and your grandfather will be fine but if we aren't you're screwed. You'll have nothing."
She thought of the woods, of the little isolated house covered in bug carvings. "Gnat didn't have anything and she gets along just fine—"
Anger flashed in her grandmother's eyes. "Do not talk about that woman in this house."
"Why?" she demanded. "What the hell did she do? No one has ever said anything! Gnat never says anything! Did you bully her into silence?"
Another fist banged on the table, this time her grandfather's. "Enough! I will pretend that I didn't hear what you just inferred." Because for whatever reason, it was taboo to talk about Gnat, let alone actually talk to her. "What's done is done, Astrid," he said, voice dropping considerably. "This will save your life."
Beside him, her grandmother snorted. "Just be thankful you're pretty. The chief wouldn't have made such an offer had you been…plainer, like your mother."
Rage surged through Astrid once more, and she fought to keep it from bubbling over. Even her grandfather groaned, knowing his wife's mistakes. "I wish I was plainer. Then maybe I wouldn't have to do your bidding!"
"Astrid!"
"Oh, come on!" She tossed her hands in the air. "You just told me my only worth is my looks! How am I supposed to take that? With grace? I can't fish because a pretty face like mine isn't worth all the sunburn and callouses, right? I can't fight because if I got hurt how would I bear all the chief's children? No one batted an eye when scrawny, chicken-boned me started to work on the docks: because I was plain. And now that I'm not?" She huffed, cutting herself off, and glared off at the wall with an intense desire to punch her fist clear through. "You saved my life, that's what you think?" she whispered. "Marrying Gout isn't a life."
"Astrid-"
"No, I've had enough," she grumbled, picking up her heavy dress and heading to her room. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."
She barred herself up in her room, intent on not leaving until she'd sneak out to the docks early in the morning. Her grandparents knocked twice, leaving food by her door.
She went to bed hungry, just to spite the chief.
.
.
.
"Astrid! Honestly, lighten up with the sails, would you?"
Along with Scab, Isak and his younger kid sister had decided that they wanted to get away from the village as well. But unlike Scab, Isak and Camilla weren't quite aware of the mood that Astrid was in. She hadn't been kind in their sailing. The winds were rough and she was being rough right back, and the three of them down below were getting tired. Isak had long stopped putting the net back in the water once he deemed they had enough fish for the day and was concentrating on not getting sick.
But Astrid didn't want to lighten up. She wanted to sail tight corners and rough waters around the island until her arms fell off. Then maybe, she'd be too ugly to marry Gout. "Stop being a baby!" she shouted over the winds. "You said you were done fishing!"
"I'd fish more if you'd cool it!" Isak screamed. "You're being insane! How am I supposed to do anything with you swerving left and right?"
"Oh, leave her alone!" Scab shouted back. "She's marrying Gout! Let her sail until she bleeds."
Apparently, the siblings were unaware of the news. Probably the only ones at this point. "You're marrying Gout!?"
Camilla frowned. "I don't like him."
Astrid tugged hard on the ropes of the sail. "Yeah, neither do I." She flexed her hands a few times and noticed the ropes had burned her hands raw—bloodied blisters were already starting to form. Maybe this was enough for the day. "You guys want to head in?"
All three gave a resounding, "yes" and Astrid laughed. She positioned the sails one last time so they could round the island and sail straight to the main dock of Fogg when she saw something she hadn't seen in over five years.
"Is that….a distress signal?" Scab shouted and the other three nodded in agreement, leaning over the side of the boat to get a better look.
Out of the three boats, the one up front, Gout's boat, was the one in trouble. Astrid kept looking for signs of sinking, but she didn't see any. The men on their boat were waving their hands wildly, getting the attention of the people on the dock. She saw Finn run up the hill and she could hear the screaming, even when she pulled back to let the other ships in first.
"It's Gout! It's Gout! Someone get the chief!"
Camilla and Scab both gasped and the wind in Astrid's ears suddenly became deafening. Gout? What had happened to Gout?"
Isak quietly got her attention and told her to direct the boat to some rickety dock to the west that was too small for big ships like Gout's, but okay for Astrid's. She nodded and adjusted the sails one last time, a sharp tug that made every muscle in her arms ache. Little Camilla jumped off the boat as soon as the dock was close enough, and Scab wasn't far behind. Isak stayed and helped to tie everything down, but his movements and work were sloppy as he kept looking back at the sizeable crowd forming on the hill and down at the dock below.
"You don't think…?" His voice was worried.
Astrid climbed the top of her mast and held on with one arm, using her weight to push out and survey the sea like a sail. It was hard to see but she could see about four men carrying a fifth men off the boat toward their chief who was parting the crowd as he stomped down to the boats.
"There's a body," Astrid called down to Isak. "I don't know who it is or if he's…." She couldn't bring herself to say it.
"They were shouting Gout's name. Dark hair?"
She squinted, trying to tell. "I don't know."
"Okay, well what about—"
Astrid huffed and looked down at the deck. "I don't know," she repeated. "I can't see very well from here. Just go and check it out yourself. I can do the rest here. I'll be up after—"
Isak didn't hear the rest as he was already flying out of the boat, nearly falling into the water as he tried to leap into the wobbly dock. Far up ahead, Camilla and Scab had joined the crowd. Astrid climbed the rest of the mast and tried to see what was happening: the four men had passed the other one along to the chief, who was now carrying him up the hill: whoever he held was deathly ill or injured at best judging by the women's wailing that filled the air.
"Shit," Astrid swore softly her eyes gazing west. If she got off and headed into the woods there, she'd do a little climbing, but she could get to Gnat's house faster that way, plus she'd avoid town. Gnat might have salve or herbs that could help if the man—if Gout—was still alive.
On one hand, if she returned to the village with herbs and salve, they'd question where she got it. Astrid didn't know much about…well, much about anything according to the village. She knew fish and she knew weapons, both things she wasn't supposed to know anything about. They'd figure out she got them from Gnat sooner than later, and that wouldn't help anyone.
On the other hand though, if Gout died….if he was already dead…her marriage would be cancelled. But Astrid feared what that would mean for her and the village. Astrid feared what that would do to the chief.
In the end, Astrid headed straight for the village, but she took her time. She climbed the hill and hid behind the outer homes of the village, trying to pick up on something without being seen. The whole town square was a riot: women were crying, men were yelling, but Gout nor the chief were anywhere to be found. Noise was everywhere, but she couldn't hear any conversation, so Astrid took a chance and ran straight for the forge.
"Bugeyes!" she hissed when she slipped in unnoticed. "Bugeyes! Bug-mmph!"
A hand covered her mouth and pulled her aside, pushing her back against one of the walls. Astrid listened as a few men ran by before Bugeyes pulled his hand away with a weary sigh.
"What's going on?" Astrid asked. "I saw the fleet come in, they sent a distress signal. They carried someone off."
"Yeah."
"Was it Gout?"
"Yeah."
"Shit."
"Yeah."
She paused and took a shuddering breath. As they stood in silence she noticed there was a shaking in Bugeyes' breath as well. He was scared. They both were. "Is he alive?" she asked.
His eyes glanced behind her as his mouth quirked to the side. He was calculating; it was the same look he wore when he was working. "Technically," he finally decided. "But I don't think he'll last more than a couple of hours. He was kinda good as dead when he got there."
A hand flew to Astrid's mouth as a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Bugeyes stared at her a moment before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a slightly dirty piece of cloth.
"It's scented," he told her when she noticed her apprehension. "I know it's not very clean, but the smell will settle your stomach so you won't throw up. Press it to your face."
She did as he asked and instantly, she felt better. It smelled like pine. Now she understood why he carried this around all the time. "Thanks," she mumbled, handing it back to him. He shook his head and pushed it back into her hands.
"Keep it," he mumbled. "I feel like you'll need it more than I do." He looked her up and down and noticed her ratty pants and oversized tunic. "You've been on the boat all day?"
"I went fishing as an engagement present to myself," she snorted, but the sarcastic amusement melted away quickly. "But now…"
"I know," he said quickly. They both felt tense. An air of uncertainty had fallen over the village: what's Fogg Island without an heir? Bugeyes looked back out the front entrance of the forge, his frown more prominent. "Maybe you should get out of here. Blow off some steam."
She knew what he implied but then it hit her: her axe. Scab never brought it home, nor did she bring on the boat that morning. "I don't have my—"
Bugeyes eyes flickered to the corner where he saw her axe hastily hidden behind other weaponry.
"She dropped it off last night," he said quietly. "I cleaned it again—you really got it all muddied."
"You didn't have to do that."
He hummed. "It's okay. Just go."
"Bugeyes," she whispered harshly when he gently tugged on her elbow, trying to get her to escape. "Bugeyes, my grandparents and the chief made a contract," she swallowed thickly. "They signed it and everything."
His eyes went round as the moon. "Did you read it? What were the terms?"
"No," she spat. "Why would they let me read it?" She sighed, and gripped his sleeves with desperation. "I don't know. I don't know but Bugeyes…..if I was promised to the family and not just Gout….and if Gout dies…"
He pulled her into a hug. They were the same height and she fit comfortably against him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry." She swore she heard a sniffle before he pulled away and reached down to grab her axe. "Go. I'll cover for you. Just leave. Come back after sunset. Leave the axe here before you go home."
She nodded, gripping her axe tightly, and ran out of the forge at full speed.
Astrid didn't care if anyone saw her. It was unlikely that they did; everyone seemed too preoccupied with the dying heir and for good reason. Gout was not only the chief's only son, but his only child. Without him, there was no one to take over.
Yet, Astrid thought. The nausea crept over her again and she took the cloth that Bugeyes had given her and pressed it to her face.
She ran all the way to her usual spot, past the cove and Gnat's house and all the way to the meadow. The day's light was flickering away, casting the island in a golden light: it was uncharacteristically beautiful, which was a bad sign. Village fables always told stories of natural phenomenon occurring as a means to carry those of importance to Valhalla.
For now, though, Astrid could pretend that Gout was still hanging on by a thread.
In all the chaos, Astrid had forgotten how parched she'd become. There was a fresh spring in the meadow so she set her axe aside behind a nearby tree before she went over and used her hands to bring the water to her lips. A few sips of water and then she thought, fuck it, and dunked her entire head in.
She held her breath for 15 seconds, considered drowning herself, and then pulled herself out with a gasp.
Wiping her face with Bugeyes' cloth, Astrid fell back into the grass by the water with a heavy pant. Water trickled from her hair and brow as she stared up at the sky, the color fading from a light blue to a purplish tint. It looked like a bruise and the thought had her absentmindedly kneading at her sore and blistered hands as best she could. She really overdid it on the sails today. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and propped herself up. Blindly, she crawled back on her elbows and leaned back against a dark rock near the water's edge. Her head thudded against the rock a she tucked the rag back in her pockets: then she noticed the texture was strange and the rock moved.
The rock breathed.
With a small shout Astrid whirled around, scrambling to get back on her hands and knees to see just sort of trouble she'd gotten herself into.
She'd never seen anything like it.
The creature was dark, almost black, but not quite: in the dying light of the day, Astrid could tell that whatever this…thing was, it was more dark blue than black. The coloring was uneven and some of the scales were brighter and almost sparkled like stars in the oncoming twilight as the animal slept.
As she took in its shape, Astrid recognized it from someplace, but it was hard to pinpoint where. The more she thought about it she realized she hadn't seen it in the village, but rather in Gnat's home: she had whittled something that looked just like this. It sat on the highest shelf in her hut. She'd asked her what it was one day, and she had said a dragon.
A dragon.
Astrid had almost just napped on a living, breathing, dragon.
Dragons weren't safe. Astrid had heard the horror stories from the men who visited other islands. Dragons destroyed homes, crops, stole sheep and ate people. They were man's worst nightmare. But…
Astrid had almost just napped on a living breathing dragon, and it hadn't even woken up. Besides, if Gnat could get close enough to study it and whittle something of its liking ….it couldn't have been that unsafe.
She'd have to ask her. Right now. If she could get away alive.
As quietly as she could Astrid attempted to tiptoe past the sleeping dragon. But with every movement, the dragons' nostrils flared until it was snorting and then it opened its eyes slowly, like a baby that had just been woken from its nap.
The biggest pair of blue eyes stared straight at her with a gaze so intense, Astrid couldn't move.
So she tried talking. "Hi…" she whispered. The dragon's eyes, cat-like and surprisingly friendly, widened a little more as it woke up; the nostrils flared like it smelled dinner. She did not want to be dinner. "I'm not going to hurt you…"
It was true. Her axe was several feet away. She couldn't even if she tried.
The dragon continued to sniff around her until its cold nose bumped against Astrid's cheek, shirt, and waist. Waiting on baited breath, Astrid didn't move or speak as the dragon sniffed her all over until it eventually wedged its nose underneath her tunic to touch her bare skin. She yelped and the dragon pulled back, cocking its head to the side curiously.
"What?" she asked shakily. The dragon wiggled in place, tapping its front legs on the dirt a few times as it straightened it place. Its eyes darted back and forth between Astrid's face and her waist. Astrid tried to think of why it kept sniffing her until she realized:
She smelled like fish.
The dragon wanted her to give it fish.
"I don't have any fish, if that's what you're after," she said slowly, feeling only a little silly that she was talking out loud to a dragon like it could answer her. "Is that what you eat? Fish?"
The dragon licked its mouth in answer, and Astrid actually laughed.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't have any fish." She paused, thinking. "Does Gnat give you fish?"
It almost seemed like the dragon recognized Gnat's name. It perked up, looking excited, before it started bounding up and down across the meadow, jumping up on tree branches and scratching at tree bark. When it sat on one particularly soft branch it snapped and the dragon started to fall, saved by the swoop of its own wings.
"Whoa, whoa!" Astrid shouted, feeling a little frightened as she saw the full length of its wingspan. It was huge. "Gnat's not here so calm down." Another thought struck her. "Gnat?" she repeated, and again, the dragon got excited, which was weird. Even if the dragon knew Gnat, how would it know her name? Gnat couldn't speak.
…Could she?
With a groan, Astrid slumped to the ground and curled into a ball. This day was quickly becoming one of the most overwhelming ones she'd ever had; definitely on par with the day her parents died, maybe worse when she got back to the village and find out that Gout had actually died.
She groaned again and listed her head only to nearly jump out of her skin when she found the dragon's face was right in front of her.
This close, she could really see every color of blue in its eyes; the blue of the sky, the blue of the water, and even the greenish murky color that sloshed around in white foam near shallow parts of the beaches. Its eyes were so bright, a stark contrast to the deep blue of its scales.
"Pretty…" she murmured, lifting her hand to touch its nose. The nostrils flared wildly again and Astrid laughed. "I know, they smell like fish. I don't mean to tease you. I don't have any, honest."
The dragon seemed to accept that. Its eyes closed and it leaned its snout into Astrid's palm. She rubbed her hand back and forth before the dragon's eyes snapped open again and looked at her hand, blistered in every crease of her fingers.
"I know, my fingers aren't very—Eugh, gross!" she yelped when the dragon suddenly licked her hand. She shook it once, twice, and listened with disgust as a wad of dragon spit fell into the grass. "That wasn't nice," she grumbled and she swore that dragon laughed.
She wondered how much it understood of her. She wondered smart they really were.
Astrid didn't have the chance to dwell on it.
The dragons' ears perked up before Astrid could even hear it; a rustling and mumbling from beyond the meadow clearing. The dragon growled quietly, round shark like teeth bore in a soft snarl and came to stand next to Astrid, wrapping its long tail around her in a semi-protective circle. Its eyes were slits.
It took a moment, but she eventually recognized the voice. It wasn't Gnat.
The dragon didn't stand a chance.
"You have to go," Astrid whispered, pushing on the side of the animal's cheek. Immediately, the snarl went away and pupils enlarged before looking at Astrid and giving a soft purr of confusion. "Please, go. If he catches you he'll try to kill you. Come back when he's gone, okay?" she gave the dragon a few more pats as the rustling got louder. "Go!" she whispered. "I'll be fine, just go!"
Astrid swore she heard a whine from the dragon before it listened to her, jumping and hopping a bit before it spread its wings and dived behind the trees beyond the meadow.
"Astrid."
She tore her eyes away from the forest's horizon and turned back around to see Chief Clout standing a few meters away. In a flurry, she staggered to her feet, feeling….inadequate. Reeking of fish and covered in grime, wearing men's clothing no less, was no way to stand in front of a man like Clout.
"Chief." Astrid cleared her throat, trying to stand as straight and lady-like as ever.
"I've been looking for you," he said lowly. It was hard to gage his mood. "We all have."
"We?"
He took a few steps closer, looking around the meadow. It was barely light out anymore. "The village," he elaborated. "Some said they see you run off here sometimes, so I thought I'd check. It was quite the hike."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to inconvenience you." She grasped the edges if her tunic with two hands in a nervous gesture. "I'll come home straight away, sir."
"No," he said suddenly and with a little bite. It spooked her a bit. "This is fine. I need to talk to you alone."
"Oh."
Clout took a deep breath. "My son, Gout," he stopped, looking off to the side and clenching his fist in anger. "He fell ill on his journey and did not recover. He's passed."
That sinking feeling she had been dreading hit her full force and it took everything Astrid had to lock her knees and keep herself from collapsing in fear in front of him. "I'm….that's terrible. I'm so sorry." And she meant it.
The chief was still hard to read. The creeping dark of night wasn't helping either.
"I have no heir," he said slowly. "No brothers, no sisters, no other children. I don't even have my wife anymore. Your marriage to my son was supposed to put this village at ease and now his death has made it more chaotic than ever. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," How her voice remained calm, she did not know.
"The village can't go on like this." He paused, looking at her. She could barely see the whites of his eyes in the moonlight. "It's time that I remarry, especially now that another heir is needed. And luckily, your grandparents' contract promised you to my family, not just Gout. Less complicated for everyone."
It was just as she feared.
"Sir," she said, the word shaky on her tongue. "I'm not sure if I'm the best option for a wife—"
Suddenly, he surged forward and grabbed her by both of her wrists. She barely registered that she was lifted off the ground until he had her pinned against the closest tree trunk a ways away, both her arms held roughly by her sides.
"I'm not asking you," he growled. "I'm telling you."
She failed to swallow her whimper.
"Beautiful…" he mumbled, one of his pudgy hands snaking down her neck, over her breast and down to her hip. "I thought you and Gout would have the most beautiful children. I picked you for that reason. I could have had you for myself, but I didn't want to be selfish. But now I can. Our children will be beautiful, too, just like you."
Or ugly, like him. She dared not think about it.
Because it wasn't going to happen.
Her fear spiked with her heart rate as his grip loosened and he used his weight to keep her pressed to the tree trunk; the bark dug into her back and she whimpered again as his hands found the waistband of her pants.
"What are you doing?" she cried, trying to slap him away. He only pinned her arms back to the tree. "You can't do that!"
"Relax," he grunted, struggling to keep her against the tree. "We'll be married by the end of the week." The horror was not lost on her and she cried out, only to have one of his hands covering her mouth. The other gave up on her pants for now and reached for his belt. "A few days won't make a difference. No one will know. And the sooner the heir, the better …"
No.
No.
This was not happening.
She flailed, her arms reaching behind the skinny tree trunk when she felt it:
The handle to her axe.
Her axe was behind this tree. She had left her axe behind this very tree—and the chief had no idea.
As his belt came off, she knew it would only be moments before he'd try to strip her bare before him. With one hand she gripped the handle of her axe as best she could and thanked every god for all the days she spent throwing it one handed at the trees in the forest. She thanked every god for all the days she spent lugging nets of fish up the hill day after day. She thanks every god for all the sails she pulled, all the lumber she'd carried, all the climbing she'd ever done because it made her strong.
Strong enough to stop him.
With his eyes down and focused on trying to make her submit, Astrid's every muscle screamed as she lifted her axe with one arm and used it to thump him right on top of the head. Or, at least that was the plan: use the axe to hit him on the head and he'd fall unconscious. Then she'd escape and….figure it later. But it was supposed to buy her time.
But she and her axe were a little short on the target; instead the blade cut Clout right at the neck.
He screamed and fumbled back, grasping at his neck that was dripping a steady stream of blood. Astrid used the opportunity to grab her axe with both hands, gripping it tight for defense.
"You bitch!" he screeched. Astrid did not expect such speed from him and he knocked her to the ground, her head narrowly missing a rock. Her axe lay feet away from her as Clout climbed on top of her and slapped her across the face as hard as she could. She screamed, curling up in pain as he pressed his weight into her. "Now," he growled, reaching for her pants again. "Be a good girl and just-!"
A loud, piercing screech filled the dark forest sky, unlike anything either of them had ever heard.
And when Clout looked up, Astrid saw the terror of the unknown flash across his moonlit features before she picked up her axe with both hands and slashed it across his neck, this time with purpose.
The wound widened and blood that was once dripping like a creek began gushing like a geyser.
In his further shock Astrid managed to scramble from out under him; she took her foot and shoved him in the face as hard as she could. She could never kick him back, he was too large, but she managed to kick his head straight into the rock she had narrowly missed earlier.
When his temple struck the rock, his mouth went slack and his eyes went wide as blood continued to gush from his neck and then…
Silence.
Astrid has no idea how long she stood there in shock before she thought to do something. "No, no, no," she mumbled to herself as she got on her knees. Her hands and shirt became covered in blood as she attempted to shake him awake, to find a pulse, to find any reason that meant he'd wake up because otherwise…
She just killed a man.
She just killed the chief.
All the nausea from the day was nothing compared to the bile that rose in her throat in that moment. With tears in her eyes she leaned over and threw up the next to nothing that was in her stomach before she began sobbing uncontrollably in a heap on the ground.
"No, no, no," she wailed, fisting the meadow's grass in her hands. She was really wishing she had drowned herself in the water when she first thought about it. Her hair became matted in blood as she pulled at her bangs and continued to scream. "No! No! No!"
There was a soft mewl beside her before she felt a familiar snout push into her cheek.
Astrid managed to stop screaming and sobbing long enough to look up to see that her dragon friend had returned. In the moonlight her friend looked as dark as the sky, but the uneven colored blue scales glowed like actual stars. It was like looking at a constellation.
The dragon's eyes shone the same soft blue as it continued to purr and nudge her. Eventually, when it got fed up with Astrid not moving, it mouthed the back of her collar and pulled her across the meadow, as far away from Clout that she could get without having to be picked up.
"What have I done?" Astrid sobbed, sitting up and resting her elbows on her knees; she cradled one cheek in a dirty palm. The dragon came up and wedged its head in her lap as she continued to shake. "What am I going to do?" she sniffed. "I can't…I can't even stay here I don't…" Her hands absentmindedly scratched the top of the dragon's head before she leaned down and rested her forehead upon it, her whole body shaking in shock and grief.
The dragon gave her a few more mewls and whines before it wiggled out of her hold and went back to mouthing her shirt collar again, trying to drag her. In the dark of it all she couldn't see where they were going, but there was only one place that dragon would take her.
Gnat's.
Adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Astrid managed to get to her feet. She ran as fast as she could, her sobs still echoing off the trees and her feet stumbling over rocks. The dragon led the way, the iridescent glow of its scales something to follow and before Astrid knew it her bloodied fists were pounding desperately on the wooded cottage door.
"Gnat!" she begged. "Gnat please, open up! Gnat-!"
The door wrenched open and Gnat stood there wide-eyed with her shoes in her hand. She looked half ready to go out, frazzled and disheveled. Astrid's appearance couldn't have put her nerves at ease. She stood, stunned, and waited for an explanation from Astrid. Tears still in her eyes, she blurted out a half truth:
"The chief is dead."
Gnat stared back and forth between her and the dragon that sat by her side and then did something Astrid never expected.
She spoke.
"Come in," Gnat whispered, widening the door so that both she and the dragon could come inside. Astrid stood shivering in the middle of the hut as the dragon came to nuzzle against Gnat's waist: it seemed her hunches were correct. The dragon knew Gnat, and Gnat knew the dragon. She'd even let it inside.
"I'm s-sorry," Astrid wept. She'd never cried this hard in her life. "I didn't know where else to go."
Gnat's brow scrunched as he hands hovered over Astrid, not knowing where to start. Her hands were rough on her forehead as she gently brushed her grimy bangs aside. "What happened?"
If possible, Astrid started crying harder; she barely heard Gnat's gentle hushes in attempts to soothe her, or registered her hands on her arms, rubbing gently back and forth "I'm sorry!" Astrid wailed. "I didn't mean to!"
Finally, she felt Gnat's hands on the bottom of her tunic and Astrid yelped, slapping her hand away. "Hey, it's okay, it's just me. I was just going to help you clean up. Freckles, get her some new clothes."
The dragon gurgled in response and sauntered over to the corner where Gnat kept her things. It dragged out a dress with its mouth and in the low candlelit light of her home she noticed—the dragon's teeth, once round and pearly white, were gone. A gummy mouth remained.
"Take them off, I'll clean them," Gnat said gently and Astrid didn't need to be told twice. She ripped her shirt and pants off as quickly as she could and accepted Gnat's dress, slipping it on: it was old, one she'd never seen before—it looked like something that Scab and her mother might have sewn. "Astrid."
She looked up. "I didn't know you could talk."
Gnat gave a wiry smile. "Yeah, well. Someone has to talk to Freckles. Otherwise she'd get bored."
Astrid looked down at the dragon that was nervously pacing between the two women. "Freckles? That's her name?" A nod. Made sense considering her scales. "So that's a dragon?" Astrid sniffed, wiping her eyes with a clean sleeve. "They don't look like the drawings." Her eyes traveled to one of the shelves with the wooden carving that she had previously thought was something else. "She looks more like a salamander."
"She's just as harmless," Gnat said softly, rubbing Freckles' head. "My oversized salamander." Her fond smile made way for a frown. "I heard her scream, that's why I was on my way out, to look for her but…" she looked down at the pile of soiled garments and back up at Astrid. "What happened? The chief died? Was there a fight?"
"No," Astrid hiccupped, choking back a sob. There was a story, a whole long-winded story that was a precursor to what just happened but Astrid didn't have time. So she went right out and said it. "The chief died because I killed him."
Gnat's eyes almost fell out of her head. She said nothing in response.
So she kept going. "I was supposed to marry his son, but then Gout died and then the chief was going to marry me…he came to find me to tell me, I was in the woods, and then he tried to—he didn't care, he said we'd be married soon enough and that he needed another son and so he tried to….he tried to…" Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle her cries. She couldn't say it.
But she didn't have to; Gnat knew. Her face expression contorted from shock to anger—Astrid had never seen Gnat so close to growling with rage.
"That bastard," she spat out. Astrid watched as her eyes darted back and forth at the floor, thinking, calculating. She always did this when she was trying to figure out better ways for Astrid to fight or throw. And now she waited with anticipation to actually hear her plans aloud.
But first she felt the need to point out, "She saved my life," Astrid whispered, gesturing to the dragon. Freckles came over and nuzzled her hand. "Her cry distracted the chief. I only meant to knock him out but he hit his head on a rock and then now he's…I just wanted to get him off me-"
"But you were alone?" Gnat interrupted, her tone clipped.
"Yeah." She sniffed again. "I don't know how much longer we can both be gone without someone coming to look for us. No one really goes this far up except me, they might not think to come up here but they will, eventually."
Gnat wrinkled her nose as she tapped her chin with her index finger. "You probably have a couple of hours before they find him." She looked down at Astrid's hands and frowned. "You left your axe where? In the woods where you practice? That's where he is?"
"I—"
"I'll go get it," she said, adjusting her coat and hastily putting on her shoes. "While I'm here, I want you to pack all my old clothes from that basket—" She pointed to the one that Freckles had retrieved from. "—and then I want you to find my star charts and a few pieces of parchment from that table over there, and put it in that knapsack. There's already some tools in there, don't take them out. You'll need them." She pointed to a bag hanging on the wall. "Pack a few of the vegetables on the table, but not too many. They won't last. If you see any herbs and you know what they do, take those too. Hell, take the bow and arrow, you'll need those. Then take whatever else you can carry that looks useful. Once you're done, head straight to the docks for your boat. Stay hidden, and do not cut through the village. I'll meet you there."
It was a lot to process for Astrid's adrenaline-racing one-tracked mind. Her heart was still pounding in her ears, the back of her neck was slick with sweat and she was still kind of crying. But following instructions as quickly as she could—Astrid could handle that for now. She repeated what Gnat had instructed, who in turn gave her a thumbs up before she headed for the door.
"Freckles, come with me. I need your help."
For some reason, Astrid became terrified with the idea of being alone. "But—"
Gnat ran back over and cupped Astrid's face with both hands. "I'll be fine. Just pack and get to the docks as fast as you can. Freckles and I will be along soon."
"But—!"
"I'll be along soon. Hurry." She pressed a kiss to Astrid's forehead, and left.
As soon as the door closed, Astrid flew on what adrenaline she had left. She stuffed the clothes in the already partially full bag, along with the star charts, parchment, and some ink and a quill, just in case. As for the food, she took whatever looked most unripe and stuffed it into the bag, along with herbs. With the bag slung over her shoulder, and the bow and arrows slung over the other, she started to head out when she noticed her blood-ridden shirt and pants lay hastily crumpled on the ground by Gnat's table. Astrid wanted nothing more than to toss them in a fire but….if she was going to be on a boat, she might need them.
Disgusted, she grabbed them and slung them over her shoulder.
The adrenaline waned only slightly when she made it to her boat by the dock. Astrid thanked every god in the universe that she had chosen today of all days to tie her boat up on the old dock—it was the only one there, and no one was bound to see her, even if someone were to be by the main docks for whatever reason. Now all she had to do was dump her stuff on the boat and wait for Freckles and Gnat to come along.
It didn't take long for them to show up. Gnat walked with purpose, but she did not run, as she headed towards Astrid's boat, her axe in hand. In the glimmering moonlight, Astrid noticed that it had been cleaned of the chief's blood. She vaguely wondered how she had the time to do that.
"What did you do?" Astrid asked she swung one leg out of the boat to rest on the dock, her hand outstretched to help her in. Freckles wiggled her tail left and right before she pounced and jumped into the boat. It rocked wildly and Astrid forced herself to fall back into the boat, her bum breaking her fall.
She got no answer. Gnat shook the axe a few times and waited for Astrid to open her hands so she could catch it. It seemed Gnat clearly had no intent to come on the boat, which baffled her. Why would she have Astrid take all her things? "Aren't you coming?"
She shook her head and looked past her at Freckles, who was rocking back and forth on the boat. There was a faint smile on her lips. "No, I'm going to stay here."
"You can't!" Astrid blurted. "With the chief that far out in the woods, they'll think that you-!"
"I'll handle it," she said softly. "I'll be fine. You need to go though."
Astrid frowned and her crying, which had only just stopped, began to pick up again as fear twisted and knotted her insides. "No, you can't. If you stay here you'll die."
"I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing." Her eyes widened a fracture before she reached behind her neck and untied a necklace she had hidden under her dress. "Take this. Use your fishing skills to barter for things, but if you get in a bind, sell this." She held her pendant to the moonlight to reveal a dark, green gem set in gold. "It's not much, but it's something. I wish I had more to give you."
Astrid stared at the necklace, stunned and overwhelmed, and froze. With a somewhat frustrated sigh, Gnat reached over and tied it around Astrid's neck, tucking it under her clothes and out of sight.
"Go north," she instructed. "It's cold, but it's your best shot. Friendlier Vikings up north. Eat the perishables until you find an island, then switch to fish. Always look for fresh water first. If you can't find any, just leave, it's not worth staying, not even to rest. Try to avoid ones with villages, but if you must, stay hidden from their town. Don't worry about starting fires, Freckles will help with that—but you might need to remind her not to start a fire on the boat."
That snapped Astrid out of her trance. She whirled back around and stared at the dragon that was pacing back and forth on the boat, looking upset. "You want me to take Freckles?"
"It won't be safe here for her anymore," Gnat admitted. "I've managed to keep her hidden for years, but I don't think I'll be able to do that anymore. When the village finds Clout, they'll find her. She's safer with you, and you're safer with her. As long as she doesn't start a fire on the boat, are we clear young lady?"
The latter part of the sentence was clearly meant for Freckles. The dragon made a noise akin to a chuckle before she pounced out of the boat and walked over to Gant, nuzzling her at the hip. "Are you going to take care of Astrid?"
Astrid couldn't help a small smile when the dragon nodded, tongue lolling out of a gummy, toothless mouth.
"That's my good girl," Gnat whispered, leaning down to give the dragon a kiss on the snout. "Now go get on the boat and wait, she'll be there soon. And you," her voice dropped significantly as she came to cup Astrid's face with both her hands. Her calloused thumbs smoothed against her cheeks. "I don't know much about her," Gnat admitted, looking back at the boat towards Freckles. "She doesn't fly much. She won't hurt you, but I can't promise she'll stay on the boat for long. I don't know. But for now, let her help you." she brushed Astrid's bangs out of her face. "Be her friend. She already likes you. She wouldn't have saved you if she didn't."
Her eyes fluttered shut and she tried to memorize the touch of her hand and the sound of her voice. "Please come with me," she begged softly. "Please."
"I'll be okay," she promised. "But I have to stay here. You can't. Do you understand?"
She nodded mutely, her face contorted in grief before her head fell forward to rest against Gnat's chest. "I can never come back. I'll never see you again."
Gnat wrapped her arms around her in a hug and swayed them back and forth to the tune of the lapping waves. "I know. It'll be hard, but there's a home for you somewhere. Don't forget this."
Astrid thought of Gnat's secluded home in the woods and the way she's had to live for the past ten years: ten years of silence, ten years of getting food and clothes and everything by herself with only Astrid to help. It was the new home that Gnat had to make for herself, alone when she was just fifteen, after their village turned their back on her. What kind of home was that?
"I'm sorry," Astrid whispered. Sorry for the way the village treated Gnat, sorry for the way she had to live, sorry for how she turned her life upside down in moments because she had nowhere else to turn. Astrid was sorry for a lot of things.
"You're forgiven," Gnat whispered back. "You were always forgiven."
She wondered what silenced her for so long; her voice was the sweetest sound Astrid had ever heard.
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end part one
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AN: okay so this fic is going to be…..an ordeal lmfao. It's based off those drabbles I wrote on my Holocene one shot series, but you don't have to read that to understand this, obviously. I've changed a lot of stuff, but hopefully a lot of what you liked will stay. If you don't like Astrid-centric fics, you probably won't like this one I'm sorry. But I promise that Hiccup and Astrid will eventually meet.
Since this fic is kind of a great big adventure AU fic, it might get confusing. If you have a question about the setting, the plot or any detail, I'll do my best to answer it. If you just like it so far though, Please please pleeeeeease tell me what you think I worked very hard on this it is 13k of….hard work. Hah.
PS: Freckles is probably exactly the kind of dragon you think she is. Hehe.
PSS: Clout in recent times means "to strike a blow" but it also used to mean a piece of cloth or a patch. It also rhymes with Gout lmfao which we all know sucks.