Drengskapr
Summary: She grew up living in the shadow of her clan's greatest shame. When a rare dragon is shot down in a raid and offered up to the winner of dragon training, Astrid Hofferson sees it as a chance to finally prove herself. But then a chance encounter with a Deadly Nadder leads to a change of heart, throwing her life and the future of Berk into chaos. AU. Hiccstrid.
—
Chapter Two
The walk to the Kill Ring, where dragon training took place, was sobering. Evidence of the raid the night before was all around her. It was one of the worst ones thus far. The Hofferson house had not been the only house to receive the fiery wrath of the enemy. In fact, she and her mother were very lucky. There were several houses that were in far worse shape than her own. A few families had lost everything, their homes and belongings reduced to nothing more than a pile of smoldering ash upon the ground. The sight caused her to tighten her grip on her axe. The next raid, she would not stay inside and do nothing while lives were being destroyed. If she had to practice every day with her new axe until her fingers bled, she would do it.
"No turning back," she muttered as she neared her destination.
She was one of the last to arrive. The rest of Viking teens, minus Hiccup, all stood next to the main gate of the Kill Ring. Hiccup's absence was unsurprising. He was likely down at the docks seeing the war party off. Meanwhile, Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut were animatedly discussing something violent in nature, if their exaggerated gestures meant anything. Fishlegs stood quietly next to them, looking a little uneasy. As Astrid got within earshot of the group, she understood why.
"Ooh! I hope I get some serious burns!" Tuffnut cheered, thrusting his spear in the air.
"I'm hoping for some good mauling," Ruffnut added with a drawl. "Like on my shoulder or lower back."
Astrid grimaced. Although she was friends with Ruffnut, some of the things that the twins said were still downright disturbing. They had a disconcerting enjoyment of pain that got them in trouble more often than not.
"It's only fun if you get a scar out of it," Snotlout cut in, agreeing with the twins.
"Oh, hey Astrid," Fishlegs suddenly called out, being the only one to notice her arrival.
His greeting caused all the others to look in her direction and each reacted to her presence differently. Snotlout's reaction that caught her attention immediately. He looked downright furious, his stare locked on her shiny new axe. Brushing his reaction off as jealousy, her attention passed on to the others. Fishlegs continued to give her a hesitant smile, Ruffnut seemed marginally impressed, and Tuffnut was confused. All of their gazes flickered between her face and her new attire. Her shield they had seen before but never before had they seen her in full armor and they had certainly never witnessed her carry an actual weapon for more than a few seconds before dropping it. As they continued to stare, Astrid smoothed her lips into a thin line, refusing to show them how nervous she really was.
"Uh, guys!" Tuffnut whispered in alarm, "Does anyone else see the strange Viking standing in front of us? Or am I seeing a ghost?!"
Ruffnut smashed her fist into her brother's helmet, "That's Astrid, stupid!"
"Oh great, who let her in?" Snotlout jeered.
His words kindled a sudden fire within her chest.
"I have just as much of a right to be here as you do, Jorgenson!" she snarled in return.
He continued to sneer at her. "Really, Astrid? You can't fight. Do you think you can wave your puny axe at a dragon and it'll just fly away? You're fooling no one. That axe is toddler sized!"
Astrid's fingers clenched firmly around her axe handle. "I'll show you toddler—" But whatever she was about to say next died on her lips as a small knife suddenly whizzed by Snotlout's ear, missing him by mere inches.
"That is enough, all of ye!" Their instructor's furious voice bellowed out.
All five teens flinched, turning to see Gobber the Belch ambling towards them with a scowl marring his customarily jolly face. Hiccup trailed not far behind the master blacksmith, his gaze passing over each of the teens before it finally settled on Astrid, or rather the axe that she held in her hands. He was not even bothering to hide his surprise, his jaw was slack and his eyes were wide. She hastily looked back at the ground, suddenly feeling quite small under his incredulous stare.
"That knife almost hit you, Snot. I think your skills might be getting rusty," Hiccup taunted once he regained his composure.
"They are not!" Snotlout whined. "I just wasn't expecting it!"
Gobber roughly pushed past the bickering cousins, all the while grumbling about careless teenagers. He unlocked the main gate and then turned back with a serious expression on his face, "Welcome to dragon training!"
The Viking teens slowly passed under the gate, descending the small slope that brought them down into the arena. Each was mystified by the grandeur that lay before them. For seven generations the Kill Ring had been used to train the bravest of warriors to fight against dragons and now, it was their turn. The arena was circular, surrounded by walls made of stone and an iron cage encasing the top to keep the dragons from escaping once they were released into the arena for training exercises. On the furthest side of the Ring were six large fire-proof cells, each bolted shut with multiple locking mechanisms. Although it could not be seen from the outside, each cage was double fortified with the solid iron door on the outside and a second gridded gate behind it. The Hairy Hooligans took the security of their captured dragons very seriously.
"Now, pay attention! As ye all heard last night, the Viking who does the best in training will win the honor of slaying the Night Fury in front of the entire village!" Gobber announced.
"Well, Hiccup technically brought down the Night Fury, so doesn't that disqualify him or something?" Snotlout said in an attempt to get a rise out of his cousin, payback for Hiccup's earlier jab. Odds were against him, though. Hiccup rarely lost his temper and this time was sure to be no different. Sure, he would scowl, he would frown, he would roll his eyes, but it took a lot to get any kind of truly negative emotion other than sarcasm out of Hiccup.
As predicted, Hiccup merely chuckled, "All the more reason for me to kick your—"
"Behind these bolted gates are just a few of the dragon species that ye will encounter during a raid," Gobber continued, cutting off Hiccup's smart remark. "During dragon training, ye will learn the strengths and weaknesses of each of these dragons. Ye will learn the quickest and most effective way to take each species down. During a raid, there's no time for error. Ye have to be sharp and ye have to be fast. A mere second could mean the difference between life and death."
The large man walked down a line of cages, naming the species of dragon behind every gate. Every common species was present—Deadly Nadder, Monstrous Nightmare, Hideous Zippleback, Terrible Terror, and Gronckle. Fishlegs comically sprouted facts on each of the species as Gobber named them. However, when Gobber got to the very last cage—one that was even more heavily secured than the previous ones—and announced that it housed the Night Fury, Fishlegs cut off with a slight whimper. He seemed troubled that he did not know any facts on the Night Fury.
Gobber frowned at Fishlegs' silence and clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by him. "The Night Fury is a dragon completely unknown to us, lad. Not even the dragon manual has any information about the species," he said in an attempt to console the boy. "Ye all will train against the other dragons but the Night Fury will remain in this cage. Only the winner of dragon training, chosen by the Elder, will face this deadly beast."
His words were sobering. Astrid felt worry spawn in her gut. The winner of dragon training would have to go up against a dragon that their people knew nothing about. They would have no idea how to prepare themselves for it. Beside her, Hiccup's jaw was clenched but his eyes betrayed nothing. She spared a glance at her other peers out of the corner of her eye. They too looked resolved, determined, showed absolutely no fear. Was she really the only one who felt nervous?
As the thought crossed her mind, Gobber moved to one of the cages. He leaned lazily against the lever mechanism and regarded the teens with a mischievous smirk. The look on his face worried her as if he was about to do something completely crazy.
"Oh sweet Odin," Hiccup cursed under his breath.
Just as she was about to ask what was wrong, the sound of a latch unhooking echoed through the arena.
"Whoa! Wait just a minute!" Snotlout cried. "Aren't you going to teach us first?!"
If possible, Gobber's smirk grew even bigger. "This way is much more effective."
A shocked silence followed that was only broken when a large tan and purple Gronckle shot out of its confine looking every bit as angry as the caged animal that it was. Breaking out of their stupor, the teens scattered and dodged as the Gronckle flapped its tiny bee-like wings, circling the arena in a furious manner. It weaved in and out of the running group of Vikings for a few moments, confused by their haphazard and panicked movements before it eventually slammed into the wall and flopped onto its back. When it righted itself, Astrid could see the sheer fury in the creature's yellow eyes.
The night before she had thought she might have glimpsed some kind of unknown docile emotion in the Night Fury's eyes, but this Gronckle only had one thing on its mind—destroy. The dragon began snapping up rocks from the arena floor with its wide jaws, crunching them to bits as if they were nothing but crispy bread. Upon seeing this, Astrid began to back as far away from the dragon as she could, instinctively raising her shield to protect her body. She knew that soon the rock that the Gronckle ate would be regurgitated as a blast of lava.
"The lesson today is all about survival! If ye get hit by the Gronckle's lava blast, ye're out. In real life, ye'd be dead. Now, what is the most important thing to have with ye during battle?" Gobber's voice rose above the chaos.
"A doctor!" Hiccup's answered in his typical sarcastic tone.
Fishlegs, who was hovering near Astrid, cried out, "Plus five speed!"
Astrid's mind began to race as she thought through the list of weapons that would be most useful during battle. Sure, swords and axes could do a lot of damage but they could not necessarily protect you if you were fighting offense. What kind of tool could be used both offensively and defensively? Her eyes eventually fell on the beautifully crafted shield she held in front of her and suddenly, she knew the answer.
"A shield!" she yelled.
"Yes! A shield! Grab a shield!" Gobber barked. "The most important thing to have with ye during a battle is yer shield. It can protect ye and disable yer enemy. If ye must make a choice between a sword and a shield, always pick the shield!"
None of the Viking teens, save Astrid, had thought to bring a shield. Luckily, the arena had many wooden shields lying about. Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Snotlout scrambled to grab the closest shield they could find while the twins both ran over to a shield with flames on it and began fighting over it like a couple of bratty children. A short tug of war ensued, ending only once Ruffnut slammed the shield onto Tuffnut's head after he made a comment about girls liking shields with flowers on them. The Gronckle used their distraction to make its attack. It shot a lava blast at them, taking the twins off guard. The lava blast hit the coveted shield, fortunately only knocking the twins off their feet instead of mortally wounding them.
"Ruffnut, Tuffnut—out!" Gobber called.
"What?!" Tuffnut pouted and turned to his twin. "This is all your fault!"
"My fault?" Ruffnut cried indignantly. "It's not my fault you are such an idiot!"
Gobber ignored their spat and continued, "Dragons are easily confused by loud noises. Use yer shield to make lots of it and it will throw off the dragon's aim."
Meanwhile, the Gronckle continued its assault on the remaining four Viking teens. Taking Gobber's advice, Astrid began hitting the blunt of her ax against her shield, creating a loud reverberating noise. The other teens followed suit and soon the Gronckle's movements began to falter. It spun around in an aimless craze, unsure of where to go. They continued making noise with their weapons and shields, surrounding the confused dragon until Gobber asked how many consecutive shots a Gronckle could make.
"Six! Gronckles have a shot limit of six!" Fishlegs answered.
"Correct!"
Fishlegs stopped hitting his shield, sidetracked by answering the question correctly. The proud grin on his face was wiped away as a lava blast hit his shield, splintering it in his grasp and causing shards of wood to explode in his face. Astrid winced as the boy screamed in pain and ran to the opposite side of the arena to hide behind Gobber. In watching Fishlegs, Astrid forgot to make noise on her own shield. Her eyes widened when she realized that the Gronckle had a new target—her.
She ran as fast as she could to get out of its line of fire, ducking and dodging instinctively away from the dragon's club-like tail. Her movements were sloppy but in her blind panic for her life, it was good enough to avoid getting crushed. Before long, Astrid could feel the sweat pouring down her neck and forehead. Her breath began to labor. She was not used to exerting so much energy. Still, she thought that she was doing quite well, considering her less than stellar track record. She had yet to knock anything over or run into anyone, or trip. But, just as the thought crossed her mind, her foot caught on something unseen and she crashed down onto the dirt floor of the arena. As she fell, her axe fell from her grasp, landing oh so conveniently in between the Gronckle's feet. Terrified, she curled her legs towards her stomach and covered her body as best as she could with her shield. But the blast never came.
"Hey, lump face! Over here!"
The distraction worked. The Gronckle immediately lost interest in Astrid, turning its sight instead to the owner of the voice.
Hiccup was positioned just behind the Gronckle, his shield raised in front of him for protection. Snotlout stood a few paces behind him, babbling about working out in his parent's basement after training. The dragon released a third fiery blast at the cousins. Hiccup somersaulted out of the way, but Snotlout could not move out of the way fast enough. The shot desecrated his wooden shield in a manner similar to Fishlegs'.
"Snotlout, yer out!" Gobber announced.
Hiccup's somersault landed him next to Astrid and to her surprise, he held out a hand to her. She wrapped her fingers around his calloused ones with a sheepish grin as he pulled her to her feet. "Well, I guess it's just me and you now," Astrid remarked, looking up him through her lashes.
Hiccup narrowed his eyes at her, "Nope, it's just me."
She frowned, "What?"
"Pay attention!" he snapped, exasperation slipping into his tone.
Before she had the chance to ask what he meant, a fourth blast nearly connected with her shield, sending her right back down to the ground with a cry of surprise. While she struggled to get back on her feet for the second time, Hiccup took off running in an attempt to buy her some time. The dragon took the bait and gave chase while shooting a fifth blast that missed him by mere inches.
Unlike Astrid, the Chief's son moved with practiced grace. He expertly somersaulted, cartwheeled, spun, and twisted away from the dragon's massive tail and wide jaws. Against her better judgment, Astrid grew distracted by his nimble movements and the way that his sweaty russet hair clung to his forehead. She was so busy watching him that she barely registered that he was charging in her direction, the dragon hot on his heels with its jaw wide open and fire rising from within.
"ASTRID!"
She could not move out of the way quickly enough and he was running so fast that he could not slow his momentum down in time to avoid crashing into her. Soon Hiccup's frantic face filled her vision. His body collided roughly into hers, sending the pair tumbling to the ground in a cloud of dust. While Astrid unceremoniously landed on her backside, Hiccup managed to roll into a near-seated crouch in front of her. Seemingly unfazed by the tumble, he swiftly tossed his wooden shield forward like a boomerang just as the Gronckle fired is sixth and final lava blast at them. The fire connected with the spinning shield, causing a small explosion between the two Vikings and the Gronckle. Hiccup then sprung to his feet and brandished his sword. But before he could make his attack, Gobber hooked the boulder-class dragon in the mouth with his prosthetic hand and sent it back into the cage from which it came.
When the Gronckle's cell closed and the latch clicked into place, Gobber turned to the trainees with a frown on his face. "I think that is enough for today."
Once he caught his breath, Hiccup turned and gave Astrid a scowl that almost made her refuse the hand he once again offered to her. She squelched up every ounce of courage she could muster in order to wrap her fingers around his, but she could not bring herself to look at him as she did so. She could not bear to see disappointment and agitation directed at her for the second time in less than a day. To her relief, he dropped her hand as if it burned him as soon as she was standing and stalked moodily over to his cousin, who had blood dripping down his face from the splintered wood of his shield.
"Hiccup, take yer cousin and Fishlegs to the healer to have their injuries looked at," Gobber requested. "The rest of ye are free to go for now. I will see ye all at náttmál to discuss today's training exercise." [1]
The Chief's son did as he was told, leaving the arena with Snotlout and Fishlegs in tow. Astrid looked around for Ruffnut but the twins had apparently already snuck away. With a heavy sigh and slumped shoulders, Astrid retrieved her weapons and made to leave the arena alone. She did not make it far before Gobber's voice stopped her.
"Ye did surprisingly well today, Astrid," he commented. "But ye need to pay more attention. Hiccup won't always be around to save ye when ye get yer head up in the clouds or whatever it is yer doing when ye freeze like that."
With that, Gobber left the arena leaving Astrid fighting humiliation and shame.
Freeze.
Frozen Hofferson.
Whether Gobber meant it intentionally or not, the word reverberated in her mind. Astrid knew that she could do much better. She had actually been doing really well until she tripped. That had been the trigger to her spiral of screw-ups, making Hiccup come to her rescue—again—because she was just not strong enough, not fast enough, and not observant enough. It was mortifying. She was a Hofferson and while that did not mean very much to the Hairy Hooligan tribe anymore, the name had once brought fear to even the bravest of souls. The Hofferson clan had once been a force to be reckoned with. Where was the honor now? There was none. It was stolen by a dragon that only made its appearance even ten years. All that was left of the mighty Hofferson clan was a widow and her embarrassment of a daughter.
Astrid felt that she owed it to her mother, her father, her Uncle Finn—Hel the entire Hofferson clan—to win dragon training, slay the Night Fury, and ultimately restore the honor of her family. With that in mind, Astrid slung her small axe over her shoulder, righted her shield, and walked out of the Kill Ring with her head held high and a fierce determination rising within her chest. She had some issues to resolve with some trees.
—
"This time, this time for sure! HI-ARGHHHHHH!"
The fierce battle cry echoed through the forest, disturbing a small flock of birds and a few woodland creatures. The sound was followed by a loud thunk as an axe embedded itself in a tree. Her palms were blistered and bleeding, her shoulder was screaming in pain, but she could not bring herself to care. Astrid allowed a small smile to rise to her lips as she gently rubbed her strained shoulder. It was nearly dark and she had been practicing nonstop since leaving the arena that morning. When she began, she promised herself she would not stop until she actually accomplished something worthwhile. It had been hard work but she was determined. She had trudged on, through the pain and through her hunger, and finally, she succeeded.
"YEAH!" She cheered, pumping her fist in the air and then hissed when the movement jostled her shoulder.
Knowing that she needed to return to the village for náttmál, Astrid went to retrieve her axe. Just as she was about to pull her axe from the trunk, a rustling in the brush behind her made her pause. Based on the darkening sky, Astrid knew she had stayed in the woods far longer than perhaps she should have. The forests of Berk were not particularly dangerous during the day, but at night it was not uncommon to come across a rogue dragon or two. The rustling continued. She slowed her movements and tilted her head slightly, trying to identify the sound. Whatever it was, it sounded quite large.
Suddenly the rustling stopped.
Astrid slowly turned, hoping that whatever was there had left. Her heart leap to her throat when her eyes landed on the source of the noise, which had not left as she had hoped. At the edge of the small clearing that she occupied, stood a bipedal dragon with a crown on spikes on its head and a horned nose—a Deadly Nadder. The Nadder was mostly blue in color, like the sky, with a swirling mass of yellows, reds, and oranges on its forearm wings.
It was beautiful.
But more importantly, it was deadly.
Her hands began to tremor. She was terrified. Her axe was stuck in the tree and her shield was propped up against a boulder several yards behind her. If the dragon attacked, she had no means to protect herself. The dragon, however, made no move to approach her. It stood, watching the blonde Viking with big yellow eyes, its pupils dilated in curiosity. She had seen a dragon act similarly before. The Monstrous Nightmare that nearly destroyed her house had seemed curious at first too before it nearly roasted her to bits. Astrid released a shuddered breath and the dragon let out a low squawk, tilting its head to the side as if it were confused.
The Viking thing to do would be to rush for her axe or her shield and attempt to slay the beast. Logically, though, Astrid knew she could not reach her weapons in time and as cowardly as it was, she knew she was no match for a Deadly Nadder. It would just take one expertly aimed spine shot and then she would have Nadder poison running through her veins. That was something she definitely wanted to avoid at all cost. Dying a horrible, painful death was not on her list of things to do that day. Thus, she remained frozen in place, fearing that if she so much as moved a muscle, the dragon with the hottest fire on Midgard would incinerate her.
After what felt like hours—but in reality was probably only a few minutes—the Nadder grew bored of watching her and stomped away back into the dense forest. When Astrid was sure it was gone and was not coming back, she collapsed to the forest floor with a shuddering gasp. Her entire body was shaking from…what exactly? Fear? Anger? She was not quite sure. All she knew was that a wild dragon had the perfect chance to kill her, but instead, it had simply let her go. It had walked away. Every Viking instinct within her screamed that the dragon by all accounts should have viciously mauled her to death, yet the blue Nadder had merely appeared curious.
No. Dragons are killers, monstrous beasts, spawns of Hel herself. They are incapable of feeling.
Trying her best to push away the conflicting experience from her thoughts, Astrid retrieved her weapons and rushed back to the village. She was late. Judging by the lack of people milling around the town square, náttmál had already begun. Astrid pushed herself harder, taking the steps up to the Great Hall two at the time. When she burst through the doors, she noted Gobber's large form by his hooked hand waving about and followed his familiar brogue to the trainee table. Everyone was present and accounted for except for her. The twins had one side of the table to themselves while Hiccup sat in the middle of Snotlout and Fishlegs on the other. Gobber stood at the head of the table, lecturing the trainees as they ate their evening meal. It appeared as though the teens were not paying much attention his lecture, however. Tuffnut was attempting to balance a knife on his nose, Hiccup was doodling something in a notebook, and Snotlout was attempting and failing miserably at flirting with Ruffnut. Fishlegs was really the only one listening to anything Gobber was saying and that was probably only because Gobber was giving him a critique of his performance in the Ring that morning.
"There she is!" Ruffnut suddenly cried, breaking Gobber off mid-sentence.
The blacksmith spun around, his lips turning downward when he saw Astrid stumbling towards the table. "And where have ye been?" he cried. "Náttmál started ages ago! Ye've missed most of the discussion!"
"I-I was in the forest." Astrid panted.
"Aye, that is apparent," Gobber remarked, taking in her dirty appearance. "Now that Astrid finally decided to show up, who can tell me where she went wrong in the Ring today?"
Snotlout snickered, "She bothered showing up."
Instead of a biting back a reply, Astrid plopped down on the bench next to Ruffnut and shot him a glare as she accepted a plate of chicken that the female twin offered. Bringing the chicken leg to her lips, she chomped down violently with her teeth. It was entirely unladylike, but Astrid could not help but smile when Snotlout winced as fat juice squirted with the force of her bite.
"Anyone else have any thoughts?" Gobber asked irritably.
Astrid froze mid-bite when Hiccup suddenly spoke, "She's not where she should be."
The chicken leg clattered to her plate, "What do you mean, 'she is not where she should be'?" She barked back before she could stop herself, mocking his nasally tone. "Are you saying you agree with Snotlout?"
"Astrid," Hiccup sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I—"
"No, I think that is exactly what you meant," Astrid growled as she let her frustration take over. She thought about his actions the previous night and his hurtful words. She thought about all the disappointed looks he shot her in the Ring that morning. He did not believe in her, not anymore. And with that realization, she snapped. "You think I'm just as weak and delicate as everyone else does! I'm nothing but an embarrassment to Berk in your eyes!"
"Astrid—" His words were once again cut off as she impulsively reached over, grabbed the knife that Tuffnut was still attempting to balance on his nose, and brought it dangerously close to Hooligan heir's face.
Everyone froze.
Even Gobber could not find his voice to tell them to settle down. Sure, Astrid occasionally let her temper get the best of her whenever the state of her family's honor was brought up, but no one had ever seen her act out violently towards anyone over it before—much less towards Hiccup of all people.
But Hiccup did not appear bothered by her threat. He narrowed his eyes and batted the knife out of Astrid's grasp as if he were swatting away a pest. It clattered noisily to the ground, breaking the otherwise stunned silence that had engulfed their table. He then stood up from the bench and leaned forward, his nose nearly touching Astrid's. All she could see was the mass of fury swirling in his green orbs.
"You know nothing," he hissed.
The two heated teens remained locked in a glaring contest until Snotlout finally clamped a hand on his cousin's shoulder and forced him back down onto the bench. As soon as he was seated, Hiccup shrugged off Snotlout's hand and took a large gulp of his drink—which judging by the smell of his breath, Astrid assumed it was either mead or ale. Gobber finally came out of his shocked silence and sensibly changed the subject, moving on to the Dragon Manual and how the trainees would need to study it extensively if they had any hope of becoming great warriors.
"A smart Viking should know a dragon's every strength and weakness. Never be caught off guard by something ye did not know because ye didn't study." Gobber looked pointedly between the twins and Snotlout as he said this. He then left the book in Tuffnut's care and hobbled out of the Great Hall, no doubt going back to the forge in search of some peace and quiet.
"You mean I have to read for this?" Tuffnut moaned, looking at the book as if it was a foreign item on Trader Johann's ship. "While I'm still alive? What kind of cruel punishment is this?!"
Snotlout slammed his fist into the table, causing a fork to flip onto Hiccup's plate. "Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you stuff about," he whined.
Hiccup ran his hands over his face, "You know, it's actually not that bad."
"I've read it seven times!" Fishlegs added enthusiastically.
Tuffnut shoved the book towards Fishlegs, "Here! Take it! I don't want it!"
"Yeah, you losers can read and usrealVikings can go kill things," Snotlout agreed.
The male twin grinned manically, "I couldn't have said it better myself! Lead the way, Snot-man!"
Tuffnut and Snotlout rushed from the hall to do Odin knows what, leaving the four more levelheaded teens at the table to finish their dinner and read from the dragon book. Fishlegs volunteered to read passages aloud, although it was obvious that none of them truly cared to learn in that moment. It was just a distraction. Hiccup kept shooting Astrid angry glances, Astrid refused to look at Hiccup, Ruffnut was hesitantly glancing at Fishlegs whenever she thought he was not looking, and Fishlegs was pretending not to notice. The group of four were a dramatic mess of emotions. It was not until they got to the Night Fury page that their attention was truly captured.
"According to the Dragon Manual, the Night Fury's speed and size are unknown. It is the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself.Bork the Bold advises to never, ever engage this dragon [2]. The only chance you have is to hide and pray it does not find you," Fishlegs read. He was silent for a moment, obviously pondering something by the quizzical look on his face. "I guess now we can update this part of the manual. We know the Night Fury's size and what it looks like thanks to you, Hiccup," he said, clapping the thinner boy on the back.
Hiccup frowned, "I really didn't do anything, Fishlegs. Dad exaggerated everything."
Even though she was angry with him, Astrid perked up at the change of topic. The events of the previous night were still unknown to her. Beside her, Ruffnut looked interested by their words as well.
"But your net hit it," Fishlegs argued. "We all saw it. Well, I guess Ruffnut and Astrid didn't but…"
"Where were you anyway?" Hiccup asked Ruffnut, avoiding Astrid's stare. "Tuff said that you didn't show up until after."
"Unlike the rest of you, I stayed with Astrid to make sure she was okay after her house nearly burnt down," Ruffnut snapped pointedly and smirked when Hiccup winced. "Which in case you were wondering, she was fine. Astrid's tough. Then we went into the woods to avoid the Night Fury's blasts after a catapult nearly collapsed on us." Hiccup still did not respond to her bated words, but it was clear by the look on his face that they did affect him.
"Hiccup, you should draw the Night Fury in the Dragon Manual," Fishlegs said, changing the topic to break the tense silence that followed in the wake of Ruffnut's words.
The Hooligan heir took the Dragon Manual from Fishlegs outreached hand and began to draw a rough sketch of the Night Fury on the mostly blank pages. After getting Fishlegs' approval, Hiccup slammed the book shut, and left the Hall without another word. Fishlegs jumped to his feet and ran after him, leaving Ruffnut and Astrid alone.
"What was that all about?" Astrid hissed to the female twin after the other two had left.
Ruffnut shrugged, "I was just trying to take him down a notch or two. He keeps treating you as though you are something breakable—you're not."
Of all people, Astrid never expected Ruffnut to stick up for her. Part of her was somewhat touched, although she would never admit that out loud. She had always considered Ruffnut to be an attachment of her twin—stupid and reckless—but over the past couple years the female twin had really grown up, relating more to Astrid than what she initially realized. Astrid was coming to see Ruffnut as less of an acquaintance and more of an actual friend.
"I'm glad someone finally sees that," Astrid finally muttered when she got over her shock.
"You may not be the strongest Viking there ever was, you may be a bit clumsy, and trouble always seems to find you, but you're smart and you can be pretty light on your feet when you want to. With some practice, you could be really good," Ruffnut replied with a grin. "Plus, that new axe of yours is pretty badass. It's light and perfectly balanced for someone your size. What Snotlout said about it being toddler sized is complete hogwash!"
A small smile crept onto Astrid's face, "Thanks."
"So, what were you doing in the forest today anyways?" The other blonde inquired. "And why are you covered in dirt?"
"I was throwing my axe at trees."
Ruffnut appeared intrigued by this piece of information, "Do tell."
—
It was late when she returned to her house that evening.
Astrid had not anticipated talking with Ruffnut as long as she had, but it had been a pleasant surprise. The two young women had talked at long length about training strategies that Astrid could try with her axe, their responsibilities after dragon training, and also about the dragon raids themselves. They talked for so long that they were both stifling yawns when they finally parted ways for the night.
Unsurprisingly, Herleva was still awake despite the late hour. She sat near the hearth in her favorite chair, mending the hem of a dress. The older blonde glanced up and smiled softly when Astrid finally shuffled in the front door. "How did training go, dear?" She questioned immediately.
"It went fine." Astrid snorted at her mother's impatience as she began to shrug off her armor. "Actually, it went better than I expected, despite the fact that it was nothing like what I thought training would be like. Gobber just set a Gronckle loose on us and told us that we were on our own."
"Aye, that does sound like Gobber," Herleva chuckled. "I don't see any life threatening wounds so it must not have gone too horribly."
"Gobber said I did well. Don't worry, this is my chance to prove myself. If I win dragon training and slay the Night Fury, our honor will be restored. I won't let our family name continue to be the laughing stock of the tribe." Herleva brought a hand to her chest, her eyes shining with pride at Astrid's words. Unsure of what else to say after such a heartfelt declaration, Astrid stretched and yawned. She suddenly felt drained. "I have training again early in the morning. I should turn in for the night."
"Wait, before ye go, how did the axe work out for ye?"
The smile that appeared on Astrid's lips was radiant. "It's amazing! It was forged beautifully and it's a perfect size, weight, and balance for me. I don't know how Gobber did it." She glanced down at the weapon fondly.
Herleva smiled secretively before wishing her daughter goodnight.
—
[1] Vikings typically only ate two meals during the day, dagmál (day meal) around mid-morning and náttmál (night meal) in the evening after the day's work was completed.
[2] For those who have not watched the DreamWorks Dragons series or shorts, Bork the Bold is the researcher and creator of the Dragon Manual. He also is Gobber's great-grandfather.