Since the new official poster for the second movie has been released, I thought it would be a good time to begin a new HTTYD story. This story came about from several songs (two are evidenced in the title). I will not give the titles just yet. At the end of the story, I'll do it. If I say the titles now, you'll just go listen to the songs and then you won't need to read my story…which would make me sad.

Anyway, I love Astrid. She's just an awesome character to write about because so little is known about her. I mean…if you've watched the TV series, they did focus on her in the Frightmare ep, but that's still not all that much. This story will focus on her, beginning a few years before the first movie and taking us up through the movie but not before the sequel. Wanna keep it as close to canon as possible with this one.

Without further ado, I bring you the first chapter of Try To Be Brave…

Chapter 1: That Mysterious Boy

She was eleven years of age when she received her first axe, beautifully crafted and perfect for training. This was also the age she had been when she first met him. He was apprenticed at the blacksmith's shop and, she would later learn, had assisted in designing her axe. At the time, she had known nothing more about him except that he was apprenticed at the blacksmith's shop. Unlike her parents, she did not take it upon herself to learn everything about everyone in the village; that would come later when she began training to be a warrior, a true Viking.

Needless to say, she was truly intrigued by this boy. He looked no older than she and, yet, he had helped create her first beautiful battle axe. That is why she started making more frequent trips to the forge. Her axe was over-sharpened from all the times she had been there. The boy was always there, each time she stopped by. He was quiet and kept to himself. Once the requested work was completed, he would retreat to his secret room in the back.

Astrid Hofferson was not used to being denied something she wanted. All her life, she had been handed anything she ever requested. That was why, one afternoon at the forge, she stopped the boy before he could leave her alone again. "Wait, who are you? I want to know the name of the person who helped create my axe!"

The boy seemed startled then, as if it was the first time anyone ever acknowledged anything he'd done. "No, you don't," he said simply, before making to retreat to his own little room again.

"W-wait," she stopped him again. She could not believe the stutter that had crept into her voice. Astrid Hofferson never stuttered. Ever. Was this what happened when she did not get what she wanted? As an only child, she had never known that feeling. "I do want to know. You helped make my axe. It's seriously the best gift I've ever received. At least do me the honor of knowing the name of the person who made it!" Because I won't be satisfied until I know. You and your talent will always be on my mind. Of course, she did not say that part out loud. Though she was only eleven, she still had her pride. Vikings most certainly do not express such feelings out loud and especially not in a public setting.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I have some plans to work on…I gotta go…um…bye!" He scurried away, back into his mysterious room before young Astrid could get a chance to stop him again.

The boy's actions startled and confused the young female Viking. Why was this boy so hesitant to just tell her his name? It wasn't like she asked him any serious question. Did he not like his name? She knew that many Viking parents had a tradition of giving their children hideous names (but Astrid was one of the few who actually had a normal name) in belief that the name would frighten off gnomes and trolls. How they believed that could ever work, Astrid would never know.

Astrid returned home no closer to her answer than before. After dinner, she retreated to her bedroom to settle down for sleep. In her room, she unbound her long blonde hair from its two braided pigtails and let it cascade down in a flowing and wavy river of gold over her shoulders. Another night of dreams about this boy. She hated to admit to anyone, even herself, how amazing she found this boy. Someday, she would learn his name; she would force it out of him if she had to.

Sleep did not come easily to Astrid and just as it did, she was startled fully awake by the familiar sound of the village's alert system. Another dragon raid. Quickly she bolted up and tied her hair back into its two braided pigtails (although, they were quite a bit messier than usual). Grabbing her axe, she slipped out, unseen, to find her friends. Ruffnut and Tuffnut, twins, were quite a handful and Astrid often found that she was the one who most often helped to keep them in check. Then, there was Fishlegs. He was very smart and perceptive for his age. Lastly, there was Snotlout, who had pushed his way into the group. Usually she'd never find him during dragon raids, though, and she suspected that he spent that time cowering under his bed at his house.

During the raids, the kids did not help out all that much. They were still a bit too small to carry water pails and even they knew better than to attempt to fight off the dragons without having been properly trained first. Most of the time, they would just come together to prevent the twins from adding to the destruction.

"Hey, do any of you know the boy who is an apprentice at the forge? Who is he?" Astrid asked them.

None of the kids could give her an answer, but that was probably because most of them had never visited the forge. Even when Astrid described the appearance of this boy, her friends were still clueless. They did, however, ask Astrid why she cared so much about finding out the boy's name. Avoiding the question, she slipped away and made to head back to her home. The raid was almost over; it looked as though the Vikings would succeed again. Astrid figured she'd just have to resign herself to the fact that she would not be figuring out that boy's name. He clearly had no intention to make himself known.

Astrid had almost made it home when something caught her sight. It was the boy. He was trying to help out but he was too small, much smaller even than Astrid herself. She had never noticed his size before, but that may have been because she'd only ever seen him at the forge and, somehow, the apron he wore and the work that he had done gave her the impression than he was bigger than he actually turned out to be. As she watched, the boy slipped up and his one little error became a massive outbreak of disaster. Abruptly, the raid ended and it appeared that the boy's mistake was the cause.

Pushing herself back into the shadows, Astrid watched as the village chief, the mighty Stoick the Vast, approached the boy. Even from her spot away from the action, Astrid could see the scowl etched into the massive man's face. She felt sorry for the boy. He'd just wanted to help; he shouldn't be subjected to such harsh punishment.

"I told you to stay in the house! Look, what you have caused now, Hiccup!"

Hiccup?! That boy, the one I've wanted to know the name of for so long…he is Hiccup?!

Well, this seems like a good place to stop for now. This chapter was fun to write…even if I do think it had a few tangents. If you celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday, I hope you had a wonderful day and be safe in your Black Friday shopping endeavors tomorrow. I'd say that I'll be thinking of you, but the reality of it all is that I'll actually be sleeping. Yeah…I think that's about it.

Also, as a side note, I am aware that Berk is a small village. This is written under an assumption. Though Astrid and the others are Vikings, they are still young kids and young kids are naive and not concerned all that much with learning about others. That is something that comes as they get older and I hope this will be evidenced here in this story of Astrid's coming-of-age.

Thanks for reading the first chapter of Try To Be Brave.

Posted: November 29, 2013