Astrid didn't even bother mentally berating herself this time for whimpering in both fear and discomfort. The large dinosaur creature was currently sitting on top of her, it's large claws wrapped around her torso and legs, and its wings blocking out the world around her. She couldn't budge a muscle.
"Stormfly!" she heard the man command, his voice taut with anger. "Stormfly—release her—"
Astrid's body shook as the belly of the dinosaur on top of her rumbled, and it let out a bellow of rage. "Please…" she managed to gasp out. "Please let me go."
The dinosaur shifted slightly, and she heard what had to be a curious, friendly chirp. A spot of light could be seen, and she felt the bottom of its large chin rub at the back of her head. That was beyond confusing. This creature was almost acting like it was a brooding chicken, not a predator preparing for its next meal.
"Please let me go, Stormfly," Astrid said, loudly, and in a commanding tone.
The dinosaur—Stormfly, apparently—shifted again, before hesitantly stepping off of her, and Astrid was blinded by the sunlight. She blinked, struggling to her knees. The man and his own strange, large, cat-like dinosaur were standing before her, as well as now a small audience of other Viking reenactors. They all looked shocked to see her.
The man rushed towards her. "Astrid—"
Astrid struggled to her feet, "Don't come any nearer," she commanded, and the man halted, confusion on his face. She nearly fell over, if Stormfly hadn't moved behind her, catching Astrid against one of her legs to keep her upright. Astrid quickly moved away. "Just tell this thing to get away from me!"
The man looked surprised by this, and a few people gasped. "Oh, shut up," Astrid snapped, rolling her eyes. "I don't care about whatever NDA contract you signed, you can stop the act."
She brushed of her knees. "And I'd like my clothes back, and my pack." She looked up, and saw them all staring at her. Then, one by one, they all looked at the man. He was staring at her with a peculiar look on his face. "What?" she demanded.
"Astrid," he said, stepping towards her. "Astrid, what happened to you?"
He looked concerned. Beyond concerned. The man looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.
"Do not take one more step towards me," she said, putting up a hand to stop him.
He froze, and a few more of the bystanders gasped, looking at each other in confusion and worry.
"What's wrong with all of you?" she demanded. "Look, I don't care if this is some kind of cult, or Viking Plymouth Plantation kind of place, I'm not going to stick around."
She had just shoved past the man, Stormfly at her heels, when something clicked inside her mind. Dinosaurs… dinosaurs with wings and…
She watched a dinosaur in the distance touched down on a roost, and then bellowed flame.
Flame.
Fire.
She stared as another spit sparks at the other while on the roost.
A roost… that looked very familiar. So familiar, and yet so different. In perfect, or near perfect condition, unlike the well preserved but shambles its mirrored version was in the real Berk. It was almost as if she had seen it before.
She broke off into a run, and Stormfly chirped loudly behind her, following closely. Astrid the dinosaur tore through the village, not caring that her bare feet stung on the hard, cold, rough ground. People shouted out at her in shock as she ran past them. When she reached the cliff's edge, she looked out at the water, then down at the docks below.
It was… it all the same. The docks were older, made of wood, not modern materials. But the cliffs were the same. The same beach. The same…
The same Berk. Just… how it would have been in the Viking Times.
She sat down heavily onto the ground, and Stormfly chirped again, nudging her worriedly.
Stormfly wasn't a dinosaur. None of them were. They were… dragons.
And this… this was Berk.
Just… before the dragons disappeared.
Astrid took in a heaving breath, and, unable to catch it again, felt herself fall backwards, darkness overcoming her before her head touched the ground.
She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry, but she found herself looking into a handsome man's face. "Hiccup…?" she murmured, reaching up and brushing her fingers against his beard.
The man's eyes widened, and a hopeful look brightened his features. He clasped her hand in his own. "Do you remember now?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly.
She nodded, her vision still blurry and her mind numb. "Yes…" she managed to say.
Her mind cleared.
She was alone. In a room—the same one she had first woken up in. They—the villagers or cultists, or whomever they were—must have carried her here after she passed out. The dragons—her mind spun at the thought of dragons—were no where to be seen. At least that creepy man seemed to have gotten them to stay away from her. She drew her knees up to her chest, burrowing her face into the blankets and furs rumpled around her legs. What was going on?
Had she really, really fallen back in time? But there were dragons, and even if there weren't, there certainly were no dinosaurs in the present. And these monsters were spitting fire.
The man—Hiccup? She froze, realizing that she knew his name, but couldn't recall him ever telling her. She must have made it up in her sleep. After all, who would name their child "Hiccup"?
But no… where had she heard the name Hiccup before? It was odd enough that it should stand out in her memory. She blinked.
Hiccup… Horrendous… Haddock.
She sat up straighter. The famous viking chief of Berk. The Dragon… Tamer. Her eyes widened. Had she gone back to his time? That would… well, nothing about any of this made any sense. But…
There was a creak, and she looked up to see a set of small, dark green eyes gazing back at her, before they quickly disappeared. Frowning, Astrid tilted her head, and watched as two small children stepped into the room. One was a small boy, perhaps four or five years old, with platinum blonde hair, and those dark green eyes. The other was a girl, perhaps six or seven, with two reddish-brown braids that stuck out from her head, and bright blue-green eyes. They stood in the doorway, staring at her.
Astrid stared back. Though she had never seen either of these children before, they seemed familiar to her, as if she should know them.
"Daddy said we weren't supposed to come up," the girl said, still staring at her intently. The little boy, her brother, perhaps, held onto her thick skirt, hiding behind her somewhat, also staring at Astrid.
Astrid blinked. "Who is your Daddy?" she asked.
The girl looked at her brother, and both children looked back at her. Confusion and a touch of fear were on their faces. "His name is Hiccup."
Astrid swallowed. The man's name was Hiccup. She didn't know what he looked like—how could she have guessed in her near-unconscious state that hew as the same Viking Chief she had briefly read up on in her preparations for this trip? But that thought was pushed to the side as a more alarming one replaced it. That man thought she was his dead wife, brought back to life. That must mean his children must think…
"Just so you know, I'm not your—" Astrid began, but stopped when she heard someone running up the steps. A second later, the man—Hiccup, stepped into the room.
"Kyri, Árni, what did I tell you?"
"Momma needs sleep," the girl said, shuffling her feet. "But we really wanted to see her, Daddy!"
The boy nodded.
Hiccup sighed, before glancing over at Astrid. "Later," he promised the children. They nodded solemnly, before looking at Astrid one last time, and disappearing out the door and down the steps. Hiccup turned to look at her. "You… you're awake?"
"Clearly," she said, flatly.
Hiccup nodded, before walking over to the bed. He hesitated, before sitting down on the bed beside her. "How are you feeling?"
He reached for her, but she lightly smacked his hand away. "Don't touch me," she snarled. "Look, I realize now that you… you were telling the truth. I'm… I'm really on Berk. The real Berk. But… I'm not your wife."
Hiccup's eyes widened. "But… you remembered. You remembered who I was."
"Yeah, because you're famous," Astrid said, rolling her eyes. "Look, I may look like your dead wife, or whatever, but she and I are not the same person. For starters, I was born quite a few centuries after her."
She paused as Hiccup stared at her. "What?" he said, blankly.
"I was born in the year Nineteen-Eighty-Six," Astrid said.
"That's… not possible." Hiccup was looking at her as if she were the crazy one, not the man who thought his wife came back to life.
"I don't care if you don't believe me," she said, crossing her arms before wincing. Her chest and ribs still ached from when that dragon caught her when she and her pack fell off the cliff. "But it's the ruth. I've lived my whole life up till this point, and I've never met you before. I can't be your wife."
"But—" Hiccup began. "You have the same scars, moles even, and the same birthmark." He pointed at her lower stomach, where her birthmark resided.
Astrid felt a cold chill run over her. This man knew what her body looked like. That she even had a birthmark, and where it was. That meant that he had to have been at least present when she was undressed and put into this night gown. Perhaps he was even the one to do it.
"What…" She said, her jaw clenching as she spoke around her anger. "How do you know that?"
He blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"Did you undress me?" she asked, meeting his gaze with distrust and growing dislike.
He blinked again. "You're my wife, Astrid—"
"I am not your wife!" she shouted. He sat back, surprised by her outburst. She would have felt ashamed at herself for losing her temper, but she was up to here with this creep. He kidnapped her, kissed her against her will, undressed her, and was now insisting that they were married. "I've never met you before in my whole life," she spat. "Now, give me back my clothes. I don't want to be in this… nightdress anymore. And my pack! Give me back my pack. And find me somewhere else to sleep. I'll sleep outside if I have to—just not in this house."
He stared at her. "You really don't—"
"Stop," she said, closing her eyes and willing herself to calm down. She threw the covers and furs off herself, slipping out of the bed on the other side. Hiccup watched her with growing alarm as she walked around the bed and towards the door that led downstairs.
"Where are you going?" he asked, panic clear in his voice.
"Out," she said. "You," she pointed at him. "I don't like you. I don't want you anywhere near me."
She pulled the door open and walked downstairs. The two children were sitting at the table, and both sprang out of their seats at the sight of her. They both looked like they wanted to say something, but before they had the chance, she said, forcibly, "And I'm not your mom!"
She pulled the front door open, and stepped outside. The door slammed behind her.
She took in a deep breath of salty sea air. She exhaled angrily. Stuck in the past be damned. Fine. So be it. But she was not that man's wife, or those children's mother. And she wouldn't let anyone try to convince her otherwise.
She started down the path, not caring that she was barely dressed by even modern standards.
She would find someone—anyone, and have them get her clothes back. Then, she would find someone to stay with. For the night. She needed some food, and rest, and then she would go in search for a way back home.
A way back to present day.
Astrid paused partway down a dirt road. Viking houses lined the 'street', and a few people stared at her. Shivering, and realizing she was wearing basically nothing, she crossed her arms over her chest, and fought the urge to start crying. Not that she wanted to cry, of course. But…
It was all just so overwhelming.
"Astrid?"
She froze. It was a woman who had spoken, and Astrid turned to gaze at an older woman, perhaps forties or fifties, who was looking at her with tears in her eyes. The woman had blonde hair that was partly white and grey, and brown eyes. Astrid had never seen this woman before, and yet, as with the children, there was something familiar about her. "Do I know you?" Astrid asked, frowning.
The woman blinked, opening her mouth to speak. "Do you not remember me?" the woman asked.
Astrid shook her head. "No, why? Should I?"
The woman gave her a watery smile. "I suppose not," she said. "But I know you."
"Right, because I'm 'Hiccup's wife,'" Astrid said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
"No," the woman shook her head. "Because I'm your mother, Astrid."
To be continued…
Thanks for reading!
*NOTE: I totally spaced and forgot that viking women didn't take their husband's name when they got married. Originally, in Chapter 2 Hiccup called Astrid "Astrid Haddock" but in reality, she would still be Astrid Hofferson. I changed about two lines worth of Chapter 2 to better align with this fact :)
See you soon!
