As you'll quickly notice the point of views jump around a bit from now on but I'll try to keep it clear who is talking.
Astrid
She found herself sitting alone at sunset, her face in her hands and salty tears running down her cheeks. The day had started out so well but that had been quickly smashed against the rocks like a fishing boat caught in a storm. She'd waken up that morning at dawn like every other day but with a new excitement buzzing through her. After all Hiccup had finally grown some balls and asked her on a date.
She'd dressed herself in her usual attire; leggings, boots, skirt, studded skirt to go over the previous one, arm warmers, headband and iron shoulder pads. Then she'd added a little extra flair, a blue top she'd bought months ago that she hoped would impress Hiccup. And it had evidently. She couldn't lie to herself by pretending she hadn't been a little pleased when she caught hiccup staring at her breasts, but she'd never let him know that. When Hiccup had then described where they were going, her heart had soared; he'd obviously been planning this for weeks and it meant much needed alone time with him.
But that was all ruined when the warning bell sounded. Not that she could blame Hiccup for his priorities, choosing his wounded father over his and her leisure time. But that didn't mean he'd had to be a dick about it. His rejection of her hand had been harsh and still stung her like she'd been physically slapped in the face. Afterwards he had stormed off to his house where Gothi had began tending to his injured father, there'd been no point in her waiting there as well and after how he'd treated her, she didn't particularly want to.
Afterwards she'd located Stormfly and her axe before flying out into the woods for some much needed venting. The poor pine tree she'd chosen as a target had been all but destroyed but it hadn't made her feel any better. So she'd just sat on the grass and allowed herself a rare breakdown as she looked out to sea. No one had ever seen Astrid Hofferson cry, no one except Stormfly that was. As the tears had rolled down her riders face the big dragon had settled down behind the human, allowing Astrid to lean into the dragon's warm skin as it made an effort to cheer her by stroking her blonde hair with its beak. They stayed like that until after the sun had gone down as Astrid mourned her wasted day off, it was as if fate had aligned it in order to spite her.
Suddenly her mood changed to one of anger rather than self-pity. It wasn't fates fault, she thought with determination, it was Hiccups. She made up her mind to confront Hiccup about it and to call him some very choice words. With that in mind she and Stormfly set out towards the village.
She was back within ten minutes, a trip that would once have taken her three times as long on foot, and landed on the hilltop outside Hiccups house. There was a light visible through the windows and she assumed Hiccup would still be awake, likely fussing over his father. To her surprise it was Gobber who greeted her when she knocked on the door.
"Uh... Sorry Gobber I didn't mean to interrupt but is Hiccup home?" she asked politely, trying not to let any of her anger towards the blacksmith's apprentice show.
"Nay lass, you just missed him." Gobber said apologetically, it was obvious he was still worried about his friend by the redness of his eyes.
"Do you know where he is?" She said as she tried not to let her annoyance show. Where could he be going this late at night?
"He said 'e was goin' to check on the prisoner." He explained as he pointed his hook hand towards the mead hall, from which the dungeons could be accessed via a side passage. She thanked Gobber as she followed the short path from the Chief's home to the hall. As she passed through towards the dungeons she noticed a few Vikings still inside drinking, which wasn't uncommon.
The dungeons sat at the end of a passageway and consisted of a large circular room with eight separate prison cells branching out from it. Three of these eight cells were along the south wall, which were the only ones to have windows as the others were positioned with rock and earth on the other side. From the entrance of the passageway Astrid could hear raised voices, well one raised voice to be exact.
"... you better pray that he gets better! Otherwise your fate is sealed!" That was Hiccups voice definitely but it sounded more disgusting then she'd ever heard before, heavily mixed with a hate she'd never imagined from the young Viking. She turned the corner just in time to see Hiccup scream at the poor prisoner "WHY DON'T YOU ANSWER ME?! Are you to worthless to even explain yourself you asshole?"
Astrid was shocked. She'd never heard Hiccup insult anyone before, let alone curse. Yet there he stood, his face a bright red as he glared at the prisoner. The prisoner for his part simply sat on the cot in his cell, his arms resting on his knees and his face turned downwards to stare at the ground. His long hair was hanging in a way that blocked his face from view but Astrid could see the way his fists were tensed out in front of him. Otherwise he remained silent and unmoving, determined to try and block out the Hiccups verbal abuse.
This only seemed to anger Hiccup more and Astrid watched as he walked towards the table and chair set against the opposite wall of the dungeons. These were left for the guards that commonly kept watch over the more sinister prisoners and also featured a chest beneath the table top that housed any items the prisoners had on them when they were taken captive. But Hiccup wasn't interested in the chest but instead picked up one of the tankards that had been left by which ever Viking had been on duty before he showed up. She watched in horror as Hiccup, not realising Astrid's presence yet, walked over to the bars and hurled the cup with all his might. Hiccup had never been the most athletic Viking but for once his throw was accurate as the iron cup hit the prisoner square in the right temple.
The brown haired boy was knocked off the bed as he fell ungracefully to the floor. He glared up at the two of them and Astrid saw for the first time the familiar determination on the boys face. She could tell he was holding back tears but his jaw was set in grim purpose to not allow his attacker any accomplishment. It was like a child facing off to a bully, knowing he couldn't fight back but not willing to let the bully have any sense of victory either.
"Finally you look at me!" Hiccup continued his rant, "For Thor's sake it's about bloody time! That not even a fraction of what you deserve you piece of-."
"THAT'S ENOUGH HICCUP!" Astrid yelled as she walked out of her hiding place. Both Hiccup and the prisoner started with confusion as they looked up at the angry blonde haired female. "What do you think you are doing?" she hoped that would be enough to shock Hiccup to his senses and calm him down.
She quickly realised how wrong she was as he turned his rage towards her as well, "What am I doing?! This piece of shit killed my dad! And now you want to ask me what I'm doing? You think I'm just going to stand here while this asshole sits quietly in his cell, eating Berkian food and sleeping in one of Berks beds." He picked something else from the table and before Astrid could react threw it at the cell once more. This time however the prisoner was ready for it and jumped out of the way with ease.
"You know Hiccup," she said a little more quietly but with just as much feeling, "I'd expect this from Snotlout, but never you. The reason I always liked you was that you were an underdog; you never let the world bring you down to its level. You weren't just another Viking who thought with his fists."
Hiccup stormed off towards the door, his metal prosthetic clanking against the stone floor with every other step. "Well maybe it's time I started acting like a Viking then, if I ever want to be Chief." He retorted as he disappeared.
Astrid stood there in silence, despairing at what had just happened. That morning they'd been preparing for a romantic date out on an undiscovered island and now they were at each other's throats. She never found herself gladder to not be in Hiccups presence.
"Are... Are you okay?" the voice made her jump as she tried to figure out where it had come from. At first she thought maybe Hiccup had come back to apologise but then she realised it had come from the boy in the cell. His voice was strange with a strong accent to it that she'd never heard before.
She was confused, how did he know she was so upset when she realised she had tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm fine; I don't know what you are talking about." She said as she furiously wiped away her tears with her arm warmers.
She watched as he crawled over to where the metal tankard and the other item hiccup had thrown, a wooden plate, had fallen to the floor. With slow pensive movements he picked them up and slid them through the bars to stack neatly on the other side. As he moved back he looked at her with a sort of uneasy expression, "Well for what it's worth... I wanted to say thank you."
She was taken aback by the comment and looked at him with a new awareness. It wasn't every prisoner who treated their jailers with not only a lack of hostility but also courtesy. She quickly re-evaluated the person in front of her: he wasn't much older than her, she decided, but he was tall, as tall as Fishlegs but without the build. In fact he was quite thin and gangly. What little weight he had on him seeming to be lean muscle. He was in no way muscular by a Vikings definition but rather resembled how Astrid imagined Hiccup would mature with another growth spurt or two. He'd been stripped of his own clothing and had been forced into a pair of trousers that didn't quite cover his ankles and a woollen shirt that yet again seemed too small and tight for his torso. His face had a wild condition brought about by his unkempt brown hair and the start of a dark scruffy beard. But underneath she spied a quite angular jaw and piercing eyes the colour of an approaching storm. He seemed quite reserved and she thought, awkward. As if he wasn't used to any social interaction and didn't quite believe himself to be capable of holding a conversation.
She snapped out of her observation and addressed his comment, "No need, I don't know what you are thanking me for." She huffed trying to gain her composure.
He sat back atop his cot and seemed to think about it for a second, hesitantly he looked up, "You had no... Obligation to stand up for me." He seemed to watch her reaction with every word as if afraid he'd say something wrong, "Is the large warrior really dead?" he asked pensively.
Astrid let out a sigh as she slumped down in the chair. "Not yet, and his name is Stoick, he's our chief." She watched as he absorbed the information, "I haven't seen him yet but if he died it is customary for the town watchman to play one long note on the village's war horn." The explanation seemed acceptable and she watched as the young man sighed with evident relief. It was only then she noticed the line of red dripping down the side of his face. "You're bleeding." She said as she rushed to the bars, her protective instincts kicking in as she motioned him closer.
He seemed confused before slowly putting his hand to his head and pulling it away to find it covered in blood. He instinctively placed his hand back on the wound, applying pressure to try and stop the flow of blood. He seemed to forget Astrid's presence as he focused on short shallow breaths to stop himself from going into shock.
"Hey! Get over here so I can take a look at it." He started as he registered the command and after a moment of hesitation ambled over to the iron bars, keeping his hand on his head. She pried his fingers off the wound slowly and sighed as the bleeding seemed to have slowed somewhat already. It obviously wasn't too deep but it would have to be cleaned up to prevent infection. "Wait here and keep pressure on it," she instructed as she made to leave, "I'll be right back."
She returned within minutes carrying a hand towel and a bowl of clean water, ignoring the looks from other Vikings as she passed through the mead hall. She was somewhat pleased to see he'd listened to her instructions and didn't seem to have moved since she'd left him. She once again removed his hand and started dabbing at the wound with a wet towel, cleaning away the blood a little at a time.
"My name is Astrid by the way." She said when the silence grew awkward. Still he hesitated like he was filing away the information before he answered her.
"Nice to meet you Astrid," he said quietly, "My name is Lucas... but people just call me Luke." He talked as if he was embarrassed by having such a plain name. She had to admit it was odd hearing a name that wasn't designed to scare away monsters, like Snotlout or Tuffnut, but it wasn't a bad name, definitely not Norse in origin, but not necessarily bad.
"It's nice to meet you too Luke," she allowed herself a smile at the way his name rolled off her tongue before her curiosity got the better of her. "Can you tell me something? What actually happened to Stoick?" It was evident he hadn't been asked for his side of the story by his expression. She was grateful when however he began in halting speech to give his account. All the while she continued to clean away the blood.
Lucas
Luke felt like his brain would explode after all the events of today. First he'd woken up below deck on Johanns ship, a ship he'd called home for the last four months, to the sound of steel clashing as pirates boarded the ship. He didn't even have enough time to grab his weapons before a blade was at his throat. Then the pirates had begun killing their captives; weighting them down and tossing them into the cold Norse sea. Then just he was about to become shark food, another boat of Vikings descended upon them and began slaughtering the first group. In the confusion he'd managed to slip away and grab his things before appearing back on deck. To his anger the Vikings were frozen in place as the pirates captain had a blade to master Johann's throat, Johann the man who had gone out of his way to welcome Luke onto his ship. In Luke's haste he had knocked and loosed an arrow before he could understand the consequences. Sure he had saved Master Johann but he'd thrown a wild card to the big Viking facing off against the pirate captain, and as a result the warrior had been stabbed.
With their chief wounded the other Vikings had found Luke at fault, quite rightly he thought. He was overcome with guilt regarding the warrior's welfare, the warrior who after all had come to his rescue not moments beforehand. As the Vikings had taken control over the situation he'd been bound and tossed into the cargo deck despite Master Johann's protests.
When they finally docked, he'd been hurled out by two Vikings and marched through the streets like some prized slave to be put on show. Being ridiculed and called names like 'outcast'. As if he didn't need further reminder that he didn't belong.
Oh and let's not forget that this village was crawling with dragons. As he'd been dragged through the town he'd been terrified that the large beasts might attack. But the villagers barely seemed aware of them; some were even treating them like pets. It was a lot to take in.
Then he'd been placed into this cell and left alone with a silent guard to watch him all day.
Next to top it off, when someone finally came to talk to him it had been a stupid brat who'd come to reassure Luke that his life was worthless. Sure Luke had made a mistake, he was well aware of that, but he didn't think he deserved to end up with a cup thrown at his head.
Then to his surprise, something good happened. Judging by the peg leg boy's treatment of him he hadn't exactly expect anyone to care about his wellbeing. But someone did, and that someone turned out to be possibly the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Astrid. That was her name. She seemed to genuinely care and even wanted to hear Luke's side of the story.
Now here he was trying to explain the day's events (minus the part about how beautiful she was) without saying the wrong words. It was difficult, he'd never really had a friend he could talk to so he was constantly second guessing every word he said. After all he didn't want to accidentally say something offensive and get rid of the only person willing to listen. She however kept listening silently, occasionally nodding or motioning for him to continue his story but otherwise she was focused on the wound on his temple. It still stung but he could tell it had stopped bleeding and by the time he had finished talking she seemed satisfied that it was clean.
"You know it would be a lot easier to clean if you had a haircut once in a while." she commented as she set the cloth and bowl aside.
He couldn't help but let out a crooked grin as he tried an attempt at humour, "well if I ever get out of here, I'll be sure to see to that." he said sarcastically. It took a second for her to react and for a brief instant he was worried that he'd failed at the subtle art of humour. Then she seemed to realise he was joking and a sly smile spread across her previously worried expression. It felt good to see her a little happier then when she'd arrived even if he didn't know what had upset her in the first place.
"You know I'll hold your word to that." she said jokingly before a thought occured to her, "Have you tried explaining the situation to any of the other Vikings? I'm sure if they only understood the circumstances they'd let you go."
"I tried but they..." he paused trying to find a nice way to describe her fellow Vikings but she seemed to understand perfectly.
"...Didn't want to listen. Yeah that's a Viking trait I'm afraid." She finished the thought for him, picking up the cloth and bowl before looking out the window at the pitch darkness. It was close to midnight they both realised and the next thing Luke knew Astrid was saying goodbye, "Well there's nothing we can do until tomorrow. I'll try and convince a few others to listen but I can't promise anything." she seemed to hesitate before adding "I'll be back when I can. Goodnight Luke."
She was gone before he formed the words 'goodnight Astrid' and they hung in his mouth for the rest of the night. He settled down in the cot with a strange feeling passing through him. It was a fluttering in his breast that he hadn't felt since he was a young boy. It occurred to him just as he drifted off to sleep that the feeling was called hope.
Sorry for making Hiccup seem like an asshole. Trust me, I didn't want to. But I had to for the storyline. Believe me he's like my second favourite fictional character out of everything so it killed me to do it.
Also what do you think of my OC, I'd love to hear your thoughts.
