Ach, sind wir schon soweit gekommen? Are we at that time of the week already.
It looks that way!
Last time, we saw Astrid being confronted by a strangely riddling Snotlout and a oddly cheerful Stoic after a disastrous dragon raid, seven years after the events of Part 1.
Upon heading home, her parents reveal to her that she has been promised to Snotlout's, and that he will be named the next chieftain of Berk, as Stoic's son no longer exists to the village.
She is enraged by their decision and horrified by the idea of being married to Snotlout, and so flees to the forest for some time alone to think. She inadvertently stumbles upon the clearing where Hiccup and Toothless spent time together seven years ago, during the events of The Traitor.
At the end, we saw her overcome with emotion and crying in the sunset. A decision was made...what decision?
Chapter Two: Journey
"Ahoy there! You wouldn't happen to have room for a passenger by any chance, would you?"
"We sure would," the call came back through the dense fog, "but we're only heading West!"
"That's fine! That's the way I'm going!" Astrid shouted out.
Sure enough, a small rowboat was soon visible through the mist, heading towards the shore.
Upon lighting on the beach, the young woman found herself face-to-face with a rather gruff looking sailor.
"Aren't you a bit young to be travelling all alone, lass?" he rumbled with a faltering smile.
Astrid frowned.
"I can take care of myself," she replied shortly.
After a few thoughtful moments, the captain spoke "Very well, come on then."
The young woman peered around at the fog-covered landscape as she followed the huge sailor to his rowboat.
The yellow-brown sands of the beach stretched only twenty feet or so into the distance before the mist became so thick that no further details could be discerned.
But in spite of the dense cloud coverage, the sun still found a crevice through which to cast its golden rays.
As the long shadows of nearby pine trees pieced the fog, a strange whooshing sound grabbed Astrid's attention.
It sounded almost like wingbeats...
"Can you hear that?" she asked the captain dubiously, placing a hand on the weapon at her waist.
"No," said the sailor after a short pause, "but I don't doubt that you can. These parts are full of dragons, and we'd best not loiter. Hop in."
Astrid's decision to hunt the outcast down had come as something of a shock to her.
Still not entirely sure what was driving her forward, she had blindly set out on foot towards the west, following the scant advice gleaned from the rumours and stories which she had heard.
"They say the boy is master of knife and bow, a true hunter by nature..."
"The dragon is particularly protective of its rider, always staying by his side..."
"My father says he saw the pair once, flying high. Legend has it that the dragon rider resides in an ancient, magnificent fortress in the far western mountain ranges..."
Astrid couldn't help but scoff; a mere seven years had passed, and he had already become something of a legend.
Although it wasn't really surprising, assuming, of course, that all of the tales she heard were true.
The sound of splashing oars and shouting seamen brought her attention back to the present.
Pondering this, the young woman realised that fortune really seemed to be on her side.
Her chances of getting anywhere near this mythical castle were all but nought without the means to travel far over sea, and she thanked the gods that she had spotted the fishing vessel anchored in the bay.
It had already been three days since her enraged departure from Berk, and in spite of her skills in tracking and hunting, she was already having difficulties finding enough to eat in the wild, not to mention the physical exhaustion which had set in...
The ship's crew was kind enough to leave Astrid well enough alone once she had shown that she was not the talkative type, leaving her plenty of time to think.
And think she did.
Of her argument with her parents, of their decision to marry her off to that git Snotlout, of the many rifts and clashes starting to emerge within the village, of the boy and his dragon and how much he might have changed...
Indeed, Astrid should hardly think of him as a boy any more, but rather as a full-grown man.
"If I'm just twenty one, that would make him merely twenty years old..." She stopped herself again, wondering why the outcast was consuming so much of her waking mind.
Astrid could still picture his goofy grin, freckled face, striking brown hair and vivid, emerald-green eyes...but with these memories came blurred images of his face, twisted with fury and pain, anger and hurt, rage and tears.
Astrid shuddered at the thought of what they had done to him, what they had driven him to...what she had driven him to.
"I'm afraid this is as far as we go, lass," the burly fisherman informed her upon stopping at an island port after almost a half a week of straight sailing. "This is the village of the Bog Burglars, great story-tellers and drinkers. We're only here to trade our wares, before we head back south."
"You've already done more than enough, sir.
Thank you so much," Astrid replied with a smile The captain gave her a quick grin, before heading off into the village with his sailors and their stocks of fish.
Looking around the port, the young woman realised that, despite knowing a fair bit about the Bog Burglars, she had never actually visited them before.
Their island was very much like Berk: covered in dense pine-forests, with rocky cliffs and crags jutting out here and there, and the high peaks of a snow-capped mountain towering over the Viking settling.
The Bog Burglars was a group of Vikings comprised entirely of women.
The tribe's leader, Big-Boobied Bertha, had on many occasions visited Berk on "diplomatic business", which usually meant a drinking contest.
Astrid was somewhat acquainted with the female chieftains' daughter, Camicazi.
This wild kid was a year or two younger than the Hofferson's daughter, but had the mental age of an immature sparrow – at least, she did last time they'd met.
Nonetheless, this teenage tornado loved her rumours, and was sure to be able to help Astrid on her quest.
Quest?
It seemed funny to think about her search in that way, but it was the truth; her journeys, her destination, her reason, it all seemed so –
"Oy! Astrid! Astrid!" Lost in thought once again, the Viking woman barely registered that someone was calling her name.
It seemed that Camicazi had found her first.
Astrid turned to see a quick flash of red before being hit by a soft lump.
Staring down at the girl who seemed to be trying to crush her ribs with a shattering hug, Astrid winced; she could not recall having ever been that close to the wild girl.
"What in Freya's name are you doing here?" Camicazi looked up at Astrid's face with a gawky grin, her blond hair, pointed chin and gleaming eyes giving off an aura of supreme cheekiness.
But as the young woman opened her mouth to answer, the red-head cut in.
"Actually, never mind! You can tell me all about it back in my room!" And with this, she forcibly dragged Astrid off into the village.
"You want anything? Water? Some bread? We aren't short!"
"Um...sure! Alright." Astrid stared as a whirlwind of blond hair flew about her room, grabbing a mug here and a white loaf there, eventually settling on the bed, crossing her legs and beckoning to the young woman with a smile.
"Thanks!" she said, tucking into the bread with great gusto; the fishermen had offered her food, but Astrid had declined, not wanting to be imposing.
She hadn't had a proper meal since she left Berk.
"So..." Camicazi grinned at her guest's hunger. "That's...quite an empty stomach you've got there." Astrid could only nod in reply; her mouth was so full with delicious baked goods that she might have painted the entire room with a charming combination of bread and saliva, had she attempted any kind of verbal response.
"Wanna tell me why?" Eyes widening in fear, the Viking woman shook her head violently; little Camicazi was well known for exploiting any story and turning it into a tall tale of love and lust.
And hers would hardly be an exception.
"I thought you wouldn't..." the girl said with a sad smile. "So I'll take a guess; you're searching for that dragon rider?" It should have been obvious, Astrid thought.
Most of the stories of this fabled boy and his beast had come from this area, and the Bog Burglar's village was about as far west as you could go before hitting the open ocean.
Swallowing hard, the young woman coughed a little, washing down her mouthful with a swig of water.
"Yeah...so what if I am?"
"Well," her host replied thoughtfully, "I might be able to help you out there."
"Really?" This seemed too good to be true, and Astrid suddenly found herself full of hope.
"But I'll give you a little advice," Camicazi continued, holding up a finger in warning, suddenly deadly serious. "Don't expect a warm welcome." Her guest frowned.
"Why not?"
"Isn't it obvious? He clearly wants nothing more to do with anyone from his old tribe." His old tribe – sad, but true.
The boy ran away for a reason "Still," Camicazi sniffed, giving Astrid a hearty pat on the back, "it could be worse." The young woman's fleeting moment of hope had now been all but dashed, but this next sentence really gave her a start.
"Could be worse?" she started angrily, but her host cut her off straight away.
"Well at least he hasn't led an army of dragons on a rampage to kill all Vikings yet."
"True..." Astrid replied quietly, doubting that the outcast would really do that.
Surely he wasn't so far gone as to contemplate such an atrocity?
Astrid ended up spending the night in Camicazi's bed, while the Bog Burglar kipped on her floor.
She should have felt grateful for everything the girl was doing for her: the food, the bed, the assistance in her search...she had even consented to keeping her guest's visit a secret from the rest of the tribe.
"No one saw you arrive, and no one's gonna see you leave, either."
But the Viking woman was having a hard time feeling anything right now.
Early the next morning, Astrid found out first hand that the chieftain's daughter also owned her own boat.
Most handy, especially for giving short rides to needy travellers.
Travellers like Astrid.
"Are you sure you know where you're going?"
"Yeah – I think so, anyway. I saw him flying over a couple of nights ago. That Night Fury sure is noticeable –"
"Quite." Camicazi frowned, but was content to keep steering the small ship onwards.
A thick fog hung in the dark air, but the young girl knew her way around these waters like the back of her hand – or so she claimed.
Astrid doubted that anyone could tell where they were going in this morning half-light, but then again, Camicazi wasn't just anyone.
"I hope you don't expect me to come with you..." she spoke quietly after a little while.
"No," was the brief answer.
This was something Astrid had to do alone.
As the sun began to crest the horizon, the mist finally started to thin, and the vague silhouette of a mountain range could be made out against the sky.
Swinging the ship into a small cove, the little sailor brought her vessel up alongside a rocky cliff, which was just low enough for her passenger to disembark.
"And 'ere we are then!" she said brightly, as Astrid clambered up onto side of the boat, staring up at the stony cliffs, now growing brighter in the morning light.
"This...are you sure this is it?"
"Just follow that path," Camicazi smiled, pointing to a precarious path jutting out along the steep slopes. "It's a bit of a hike, but keep heading along that way and you'll invariably find the castle. No one else from my tribe dares to go up there; they all say it's haunted. But –" she finished with a cheeky grin, "– I guess I just couldn't help myself."
This was the mischievous old Camicazi Astrid once knew, the little terror at her best.
Taken by a sudden rush of guilt at the way she had responded to her host's generous acts, the Viking woman jumped back onto the boat, and gave the girl a parting hug.
"Is that a 'thanks-for-helping-me-out-giving-me-food-and-putting-me-up-for-the-night'?"
"Pretty much," Astrid said with a smile, before releasing her friend and clambering up onto the cliffs.
Looking back down at Camicazi, she noticed for the first time how mature the Bog Burglar really was.
"Goodbye, Astrid!" she cried, before turning back to board the boat, leaving Astrid to begin her trek up the mountain alone.
A "hike" it most certainly was, and a tough one at that.
Looking back at down the slope up which she had just climbed, the young woman could barely make out the small boat disappearing into the receding fog.
Despite giving her some food and water, Camicazi had failed to mention exactly how long this walk was going to take.
Staring around at the sparse pine thickets and fields of boulders which littered the misty mountainside, Astrid sighed, and steeled herself for a long walk.
Several hours later, Astrid's feet were really starting to feel the rocks.
Her tough boots were all but worn through from the harsh scree slopes, but the wear and tear didn't stop there – the young woman felt her willpower continually draining off into the cold stones and grey-brown trees which surrounded her.
Higher and higher into the mountains she trekked.
The clouds seemed to envelop the land in a sheath of shining white.
Astrid groaned, and made for the nearest boulder upon which she fully intended to rest herself– But she didn't quite get there.
A sudden screech pierced the shimmering air, and echoed off the cliffs to either side.
The sound was unmistakable.
It was the cry of a dragon.
The young woman immediately dived behind the rock upon which she was about to sit down, unstrapping her shield and drawing the small axe which she had stolen from the forge back in Berk.
Her hometown now seemed so far away, lost across the vast northern seas and hidden behind towering islands of cold stone, jutting out from the ocean like ancient giants, frozen by the passage of time.
"This is no time for sentimentality, Astrid!" the Viking slapped herself with the proverbial wet fish, and peered around into the fog.
As the eerily familiar sound of wingbeats now began to permeate the thick, white air, Astrid steeled herself for the inevitable blast of fire that was sure to come her way any moment now – a sharp crunching sound resounded from the other side of the large rock behind which she was hidden; the dragon had landed nearby, not more than thirty feet away.
And it certainly knew where she was.
Looking out around the rock Astrid prepared herself for the worst; on open ground like this, a dragon had a huge advantage in one-on-one combat.
The child's axe which the Viking woman had with her would hardly help her – not to mention her lightweight, wooden travel shield –
But yet another shock awaited her on the other side of that stone.
There stood a great, vivid blue Deadly Nadder.
The spined dragon was crouched directly across the path ahead, wings spread wide, head tilted to one side, great yellow eyes focussed directly upon Astrid.
The Viking bit her lip.
This was not normal dragon behaviour – but then again, she didn't really know what was anymore.
The Nadder was making a soft, trilling noise; the sound seemed strangely familiar...and soothing; was it possibly trying to communicate with her?
"Don't be stupid...dragons aren't intelligent, and they sure can't understand you..." But Astrid couldn't live with such a lie any more.
The seven years since the incident had been biting at Astrid's resolve the whole time, questioning her understanding of the world around her and forcing her to think in a fashion which most Vikings would find utterly ridiculous.
And more than anything else, the passage of time had shown her how very wrong humans could be – and in so many ways.
For better or for worse, the Viking woman decided to confront her fears and face the dragon.
"Besides," she thought agitatedly, "it certainly isn't going anywhere fast."
Slowly standing up, Astrid moved cautiously out from behind the rock, still holding her wooden buckler up to cover as much of her body as possible, and gripping her small axe fearfully with white knuckles...not that either would be of any use if that Nadder decided that the human would be better off going down its gullet as a roast lunch.
The beast's eyes followed her every move, eyes wide...with fear?
It now seemed that this dragon was almost as afraid of her as she was of it – if that were even possible.
It shifted a little on its claws, as though somehow uncertain how this should continue, perhaps a bit anxious.
"Should I take the next step?" It would be the most risky action Astrid had ever taken, but the pair would probably still be standing there at a stalemate for a very long time indeed.
Slowly unclasping her shield, unsure of both what she was doing and exactly why she was doing it, the Viking slowly lowered the thin wooden frame to the ground and placed it upon the scattered rocks, her heart pounding against her chest.
The Nadder cocked its head to the other side, staring intently at the weapon still clasped in Astrid's right hand.
"Alright, alright..." the young woman sighed in acquiescence, and placed her axe upon the buckler, effectively throwing down her last line of defence.
She now stood unarmed not thirty feet from a Deadly Nadder almost four times her size.
"I must be crazy..." she murmured to herself.
Thankfully, the dragon took the next step.
Clucking curiously, the blue beast bent its neck forward without any aggression.
It began to creep slowly forward, rustling the pebbles and pine needles beneath its feet.
Astrid drew in a sharp breath.
"Am I about to die?"
But the answer to that question was already clear; if the dragon had any intention to kill to her, it could and would have done so long ago.
Answering the Nadder's footsteps with her own, the young woman walked towards her adversary with all the calm she could muster.
Now only a few yards from the blue beast, Astrid stared into its sharp yellow eyes, examining their detail.
The dragon blinked several times, before closing its eyes and lowering its head further towards this strange little human.
And the Viking found herself reaching out with her hand, enchanted by this creature's seemingly gentle, trusting nature.
Closer and closer the pair drew together, the young woman biting her lip so hard she almost drew blood, and the Nadder still holding its eyes tightly shut.
And then, after what seemed like an eternity...
The dragon brushed its scaly head gently against Astrid's smooth hand, and opened its eyes to look up at the shaking human.
The Viking's face slowly split into a faltering smile, before she knelt down in on the hard, rocky ground and brought her other hand up to caress the Nadder's beak.
It was rough, warm, and somehow strangely soothing to the touch.
Now smiling with some previously unknown inner joy, Astrid stared in wonder as this dragon, this wonderful, beautiful, intelligent creature stood that before her, its head in her hands, and its trust held out in front, willing Astrid to accept it.
The young woman let out a laugh at the surge of happiness which welled up inside her at the final realisation of what made such a relationship between human and dragon so special.
Sensing that the girl's heart was opening to her, the Nadder warbled quietly, blinking several more times and stared into the Viking's joyous face.
Beginning to understand that this was how humans showed love and happiness, it tried to imitate the expression upon the girl's face, but only succeeded in pulling a funny lip movement which caused Viking to burst out laughing.
Wiping tears of happiness and mirth from her eyes, the girl sobbed "T-that's...really quite something...!"
Before Astrid knew it, she found herself crying her heart out, resting her head against the Nadder's warm scales.
"H-how could I h-have been so stupid...so blind..." she sobbed quietly.
As the full magnitude of what she had until now failed to see washed over her, the Viking woman clutched the dragon's head like a shipwrecked sailor clutching at their saviour and let her emotions finally flow free.
The great blue beast sank slowly to the ground, wrapping its spiny tail gently around the human, comforting and caressing her with its great wings.
After a little while, as the tide of stricken thoughts and feelings began to ebb just a little, Astrid raised her head and rested her chin against the dragon's beak, staring into its deep yellow eyes.
"I'm so sorry..." she gulped tearfully, hoping to all the gods that the Nadder could understand her. "For everything that I've done...for all those mistakes...for all the pain I've caused...I know it may seem pointless if you can't understand me –" Realising that what she had just said was based on an archaic, shattered and utterly false prejudice, she changed tack at lightning speed. "– But I'm sure you can," she finished with a grin.
The dragon nodded slowly, still supporting Astrid's head with its own.
"You can?" Despite now knowing that this had to be true, it still came as a surprise to the Viking woman to witness a dragon responding directly to words spoken by a human.
The Nadder blinked several times and narrowed its eyes, as if to say 'is-it-really-not-obvious-for-you-by-now?' "Well," Astrid continued uncertainly, the memories suddenly gushing back of exactly where she and what she was doing, "perhaps you could help me.
You see, I'm looking for this castle–" But no sooner had she mentioned the word, than the dragon unfurled its wings and crouched lower to the ground gesturing with its head over its shoulder.
"You...you want me to ride on you?" Astrid could hardly believe this, but Nadder nodded once again "Alright..."
Standing up slowly, the Viking woman cast a glance over the dragon's scaly back; it wasn't exactly a vision of comfort for the rear...but what had she expected?
In truth, nothing at all like this.
Turning to pick up her axe and shield which lay some few yards behind her, Astrid raised her eyebrows questioningly towards to vivid blue creature, which blinked back at her several times.
"Do you...you don't mind if I...?" She gestured casually towards her gear, and the Nadder rolled its eyes sarcastically, shaking its hide impatiently.
"Fine, fine..." Having retrieved and carefully stowed away the items in question so as not the make the dragon feel at all threatened, the young woman now walked back to the blue beast's side, and clambered up onto its scaly back.
Hoping it didn't mind if she held onto the horns, Astrid braced herself for takeoff.
"I hope you know where you're go – ahhhhh!"
And with great gust of wind, they were off.
The Viking experienced a fleeting sense of swooping sickness at the sudden launch, but soon began to feel to rhythm of the dragon's wingbeats and the way it cut through the air like an arrow fired true from the string.
Glancing back down at the rapidly receding earth, Astrid immediately wished she hadn't, as the morning's breakfast instantly began to threaten her with a return journey out the wrong end of her stomach.
Swallowing hard, she stared around, eyes smarting in the cold air, and finally began to experience what it was really like to have a dragon as a friend.
The great sea of clouds fell away below, leaving a majestic array of snow capped peaks lined up against the horizon ahead.
Far off in the distance, Astrid could just make out the faint silhouette of a fortress, sharply contrasted in black stone against the pure white of the ice-tipped mountains.
And it was towards this castle which the dragon now carried her.
I do hope you're all liking where this story is going, people. Any comments, suggestions or criticism, just do a quick review or PM me. Please, I really do appreciate the feedback, and would love to hear what you've got to say!
Two weeks people!
Lumpyness.