The Only Good Fight
Chapter Three
Astrid's fingers ghost over the skin around my eye. "Tyr did this," she says quietly.
I glance around the Hall. It's pretty much empty, save for a couple of guys dozing on a table near the back. The usual post-dinner crowd. Everyone noticed my eye at dinner, but Dad and I decided to tell most of them that I walked into the door.
I couldn't lie to Astrid though.
"I think," I say. "I didn't really see who did it."
Astrid doesn't look very happy as she pulls her hand away. "He can't just hurt you like that."
"It was my fault. I was about to out him. I should remember not to anger the gods."
"You never did anything to deserve this," Astrid counters, "You're helping them. And what he said about your dad and you..." She shakes her head. "He was up to something. I don't trust him."
"What happened to gods being cool?" I ask her.
"This," Astrid says. Her mouth sets in a straight line as she crosses her arms. "It still looks bad, even after Toothless helped."
"It's all right," I say. "I just hope they can find Forseti. I didn't help very much."
"You risked yourself to help. That's enough." She pauses and scrunches her lips together. "Tyr had better not show himself again."
"I have a feeling he won't be bugging me for a while."
"No one does this to my..."
I blink. "... Your?"
"My," she looks up at the ceiling, "... friend," Astrid finishes carefully. She looks back at me. Then she brushes my hair from my face and kisses my eye.
"Oh," I say.
"Did that hurt?" she asks immediately, pulling back.
"No, that... That actually helped."
She smirks. "Really?"
"Oh yeah," I say with a nod, "You should totally do that again."
She kisses my eye again. "How's that?" she asks, pulling her bangs behind her ear.
"I think it needs one more," I tell her.
She raises her eyebrows. "Fine." She moves to kiss my eye again. I turn my head up and catch her lips with my own mouth and we stay that way for a few seconds. Then I pull back.
Astrid blinks. "That's the first time you've ever kissed me," she says.
"I thought it should happen," I reply with a shrug.
"You didn't have to trick me to do it," she says.
"I was... inspired." I shrug and turn on the bench to face her fully. "So, since we're... friends..."
She smiles. "Mhm."
"And I'm not sick anymore..."
"Mhm."
"We should do more... friendly stuff."
"... Okay. Like what?"
"I don't know, we could go hunting."
"Hunting? You want to go hunting?"
"You like to hunt, don't you?"
"I do like to hunt," Astrid says, "Animals. You like to hunt trolls."
"Oh, come on, that was years ago."
Astrid laughs lightly. She's so pretty when she grins like that. "What is that look on your face?" she asks, her grin growing bigger.
"What?"
"You look so... goofy."
"It's a good face," I defend, "I like the way I feel when I make this face."
"Okay," she says, holding her hands up in defeat, "Whatever you say. You still look goofy, though."
"Well, get used to it," I tell her, "You're going to be seeing it a lot."
"In that case, I don't know if we can be friends anymore," Astrid says, her lips twitching as she suppresses what must be another smile.
"Ha ha," I reply.
Astrid leans forward and hooks her arm around my shoulders. Then she presses her forehead against mine. "Guess we should tell our parents we're friends," she murmurs, stroking my neck with her fingers.
"Or you could just kiss me in public again," I offer, "Several times. In succession. They'll get the hint."
"But then we'll have to explain it to Snotlout," Astrid says, scrunching her nose.
"And Ruffnut," I say. "Well, they need to find out some time." I turn my head and pull away as I yawn. "Sorry, going to Helheim just exhausts me."
"You should probably get some sleep," Astrid says, "I don't want you to get sick again. Come on." She stands.
I swing my legs over the bench and follow her to the door. We both peek out.
"It's raining harder than before," Astrid observes.
"I need to find Toothless," I say as I step out.
"Think he's at the nest?" Astrid asks as she comes with me.
"I'm pretty sure he's there," I answer as we head towards Fishlegs's house.
"Any idea what's gotten into him?"
"None whatsoever. Maybe he's just really protective of baby dragons? It could be the god in him."
"Even their father isn't that protective," Astrid says. "And Horrorcow doesn't really seem to care. Well, she never leaves them, but she's comfortable with us."
When we reach the house, as I predicted, Toothless is there, curled up in front of the nest. Horrorcow's mate and another Nadder are stretched out on opposite sides of the nest. Toothless lifts his head and watches us as we approach.
"Hey, buddy," I say as I carefully step toward him, "I'm heading to bed. Are you going to sleep out here?"
Toothless looks to Horrorcow. She blinks and lets out a few grunts. Then she throws her head and flutters her wings. Toothless gets up and moves toward her. He touches her head with his snout before he curls up around the nest.
"I guess that settles it," I say. I step forward to pet his head. "Good night, buddy. See you tomorrow."
Toothless nuzzles my hand and I massage his ear.
On the way to my house, Astrid grabs my hand. I look at her to see if she wants something, but she just keeps looking forward. So I squeeze her hand and don't let go until we reach my door.
#
My sleep isn't restful. I toss and turn, waking every now and then only to remember hearing my name in different voices-some I know, some I don't. Hel, Hodur, Nanna, Tyr. Tyr sounds especially angry.
Let the hero find him! Tyr says, just as a creak wakes me.
I blink a few times as I adjust to consciousness. "Dad?" I ask quietly, turning toward the doorway. The door is open, but my dad's not there.
A gust of wind blows in and I shiver. I sit up and stare at the doorway. "It's not going to close itself," I mutter, remembering something my dad said years ago. I force myself to stand up and trudge over to the doorway.
There's a strong gust of wind as I close the door, so I have to lean against it with all my weight as I shut it. When it's finally closed, I turn to the room. Now I'm fully awake. "Great," I say. I start to move back to the bed, but something feels wrong.
I glance around.
"Oh, right." Toothless is staying with Horrorcow and the others at the nest.
I walk back to the bed, but the feeling doesn't go away. "Dad?" I call out, not loud enough to wake him if he's sleeping, just loud enough for him to hear me if he's not.
That's when I feel it: something brushes against the back of my head.
"Wha-Mpf!" I start as I turn around, but a hand clamps over my mouth. I try to pull back away from it, but another hand clamps onto the back of my head, keeping me trapped between the two hands. "Mmmfff!" is all I can get out as I try to pry off the hand on my face.
"Quiet," the man hisses. I can hear the breath from my nose against his hand as he starts pushing me toward the bed. He's dressed like a Viking, but I've never seen him before. "Be good and quiet and you won't get hurt."
"Mmmmffff!" I let out as I do my best to scowl at him. He shoves my head down hard and I fall back onto the bed. Then he forces his knee onto my chest.
"Stay still," he orders me quietly. Then he lifts his other hand. In it: a dagger. Like that's going to help me stay still.
"Mpf! Mmmmm-mmph!" I curl my hands into fists and strike at his face. I connect a couple of times, but I don't get any quality face pounds in. At least, I think I don't, because he doesn't seem fazed at all as he weaves to dodge my hands.
"It's okay!" he cries out, "I'm not going to hurt you!"
"Mmmf!" I gesture wildly at his dagger. That looks like it's going to hurt!
"I know it looks bad," he says, "But it'll just sting a little before you stop feeling it altogether."
"Mmmmm!" Not encouraging!
"Just stay still-"
"What in Odin's name-?" Dad starts from the stairway.
The stranger stops. His gaze slips to the side as he stands, frozen over me.
Dad lets out a war cry and leaps at the man from the stairs. They roll to the floor and I sit up, rubbing my mouth. It hurts. A lot.
"Great," I mutter before I let out a sigh. "Dad."
Dad has the guy in a headlock. "Son, are you all right?"
"I think he's a god," I say reluctantly.
"What?" Dad cries. The man escapes from the headlock, but Dad deals him an uppercut that stuns him for a second. Dad grabs his arm and twists it behind his back, then he shoves the guy against the wall.
I point to my mouth. "Am I bruised?"
"He didn't beat you?" Dad yells out.
"No," I say.
"Are you a god?" Dad demands, pushing hard on the guy's arm.
"Yes!" the stranger squeezes out.
"What were you doing to my son?"
"I was marking him."
"Marking me?" I ask.
"What does that mean?" Dad asks.
"Ow! Just let me go, and I'll explain it."
That's when I notice the dagger on the floor. I lean down to pick it up, but the stranger calls out:
"Don't touch it!"
I look up at him. He's rubbing his shoulder like it hurts.
Dad walks over to me. He lifts my chin with his finger as he eyes the damage. "How are we going to explain this one?" he grumbles. Then he turns to the stranger. "What name do you go by?"
"Hermod," the man replies.
"Hail thee god," I say, waving my hand. "I would do the thing where I kneel down in awe," I add, "But I'm still a little shaken."
"Hello, Hermod," Dad says gruffly, "What business does the messenger of the gods have with my son?"
"I need to mark him," Hermod says. "Don't you know that heroes need to be marked by the gods?"
"That wasn't in the Hero of the Gods Manual!" I exclaim. "Maybe because there isn't one?"
"Well, now you know," Hermod says.
"What does it mean to mark me, anyway?" I ask.
"You've served as a messenger to Helheim," Hermod says. "You can pass easily into Helheim because you have Hel's permission. You will pass into Asgard if you have Odin's permission. Thus, I must mark you."
"And you couldn't do that during a sensible time of day?" I say, "With a little explanation when you come to the door?"
Hermod blinks. "No. The hero must not mar the ritual, which must be held when the moon is at its brightest, with spoken words."
I want to say something, but I can't find any words to speak. I look to my dad. His eyes are wide.
"It's okay, Dad," I say. "I guess."
"What are you going to do with the knife?" Dad asks.
"I'm just going to touch him with its tip," Hermod says as he steps forward and retrieves his weapon. "Did Hel not tell you any of this?" he asks as he straightens.
"Oh," I say. "Hel was supposed to tell me? That explains it. You gods need to work on streamlining this process. And wasn't Tyr supposed to be the messenger?"
"He is no longer interested in helping you," Hermod says.
"Well, that goes both ways," I say. "Okay, let's get me marked."
"It's too late now," Hermod says, "You've talked and the moon is no longer at its brightest."
"Oh. So... we're doing this again tomorrow night?" I ask.
Hermod's shoulders sag. "I suppose."
"You came a long way, didn't you?" I say.
He nods.
I look to Dad again. He shuts his eyes and rubs the right one with the heel of his palm. "Would you like to stay here?" he says.
"Oh no, I couldn't," Hermod says, holding his hands out.
"Really, it's fine," I say.
"I honestly can't," Hermod insists. "I wouldn't know what to do with Sleipner."
I hurry to the door and open it. I can hear the horse snuffle outside. I step out and see the eight-legged steed. It looks like any ordinary horse. That glows with a gray light. And has four legs in the front and in the back. "Wow," I say.
"Kind of hard to explain," Hermod says behind me. "We'll be back." He pushes past me and walks to the horse. "Be ready tomorrow night," he calls out as he mounts the steed.
"Whoa, you can't just leave-"
I blink and they're gone.
"... Guess you can."
I shut the door and step back. I bump into my dad, who is right behind me.
"Visiting gods in the middle of the night," he says.
"I swear I had no idea this was going to happen," I say, "Dad, please don't be angry."
Dad claps his hand on my shoulder. I turn and look up at him.
"The gods are serious about this hero thing," he says. "Are you sure you're up to the task?"
"I know, I know," I reply, "I always have a choice."
He shakes his head. "I was going to say that if you ever need any help, you can turn to me. I will be here for you. You know that."
I nod. "Thanks, Dad. And thanks for saving me. How did you know what was going on?"
"I didn't," he says, "I just woke up and sensed something was wrong."
"That's kind of eerie," I admit.
He squeezes my shoulder. "Go back to bed. We'll have Toothless heal you in the morning."
#
"Do you want me to start beating up on these gods?" Astrid says with absolute seriousness.
"It's fine," I say. "It's not like he hit me or anything."
"It looks awful," Astrid says, "You look awful."
"Thank you," I say before I shove more bread into my mouth.
"You know what I mean." Astrid watches me eat with an unhappy half-smile. Then she looks up. "'Morning."
"Hey," Ruffnut says as she slips onto the bench across from us. "Whoa, Hiccup, what happened to you?"
"Did you get into a fight?" Tuffnut asks as he sits next to Ruffnut. "Who did you fight? Did you win?"
"There was no fight," I say. "Just another accident."
"Don't tell me a door did that to you," Tuffnut says. "You know half of us didn't believe that last night."
"I-I don't really want talk about it," I say. "It's kind of a sensitive subject."
"Hiccup," Ruffnut says, her voice suddenly quiet, "Your dad's not..."
"No!" I say, "Gods, no. He's not hitting me or anything like that."
The twins share a look.
"Really. Guys. He's not."
"Don't start any rumors," Astrid says to them. "Or there will be no place for you to hide."
"Fine," Ruffnut says. "Geez, Astrid."
"Tuffnut," Astrid says in a warning voice.
"Okay, okay," Tuffnut says, holding his palms open, "I won't say anything."
"Just leave Hiccup alone," Astrid says, satisfied.
"It's not like we're the ones beating him," Ruffnut grumbles.
Astrid's eyes thin.
"Whoa!" Snotlout says as he slips onto the bench, beside me. "Hiccup, who happened to your face?"
"Are you okay?" Fishlegs asks, sitting next to Ruffnut.
"I'm fine, everyone. Thanks for the concern." I shove another piece of bread into my mouth.
"Let's talk about something else," Astrid says.
"Wait wait wait," Snotlout says, holding his hand out, "I want to know what happened to dude's face." He points at me with his index finger.
"You missed that conversation," Astrid informs him.
"Yeah, we're not allowed to talk about it," Ruffnut says haughtily.
"Whaaaat?" Snotlout says, "Come on," he goes on, bumping my shoulder with his, "Hiccup, what happened?" bump "Who put you down?" bump bump "I'll tear him apart with my elbow," bump "Just say the word, man."
"It wasn't a fight!" I say, as I tear my bread in half. "Can we just, like, ignore my face, guys? Please?"
"You don't have to be ashamed, bro," Snotlout whispers loudly as he pats my shoulder. "We're still your friends."
I drop my bread and look up at the ceiling and press my lips together.
"Hiccup, what happened to you?" Mumbles asks as she bounces up to the table.
I press my face into my hands.
"... Hiccup?" Astrid asks.
"I'm just going to stay like this until everyone's gone," I say into my palms.
"But people are just coming in," Astrid says.
"I'll be fine," I say. "Go ahead and eat, guys."
"Did Hiccup get beat up?" Mumbles asks.
"Mumbles, your mom is calling you," Astrid says beside me.
"No she isn't."
"Go play with Lungs."
"I don't want to. I want to know what happened to Hiccup."
"I'll tell you later, Mumbles," I say into my hands.
"I want to know now!"
"I did not get beat up," I say as I pull my hands down.
"We'll be right back, guys," Astrid says. She stands and grabs my arm. "Here, let's go."
"Where?" I ask as I get up.
"I have an idea," Astrid explains as we walk out of the Hall, "You're going to need it. Keep your face covered."
"Yes, ma'am."
#
Author's Notes
Thanks to everyone who has read the fic so far. I hope you're enjoying it! And thanks to my reviewers! I love your comments. Keep them coming!
Many thanks to Backroads for beta reading!
Disclaimer
This world and these characters are pretty much not mine. I just like to play with them.