Howdy y'all, so yeah, I apologize for delaying this story. I really, honestly, have no excuse because I did all the edits before summer was over and just had them in my folder for a while now. I've just been forgetting about it. But now, I remembered so I'm uploading the rest of this story and preparing to write a few one-shots because I'm really enjoying writing the friendship between my OC and Astrid and because I want to practice writing character development. There are two sequels, hopefully, planned, dealing with this kind of thing. I hope y'all don't mind. For the record, I never intend to ship Tristen with Hiccup, I'd never break up Hiccup/Astrid. Just, in case, that is some thoughts going around. Anyway, thanks for all the hits and please leave a review or two, especially if you have any suggestions about how I can improve on my writing. Thanks and happy reading! You all are awesome!

Disclaimer, I own nothing.

~Solder78~

How to Run

Chapter 6

It was her fourth meal in the Hall. She wasn't quite used to the boisterous noise the Vikings typically engaged in after a long day of work. They were drinking, eating and laughing loudly. She heard snippets of bets and gambling. She heard bits of conversations between tall, stocky men that were not for her age to hear quite yet.

She took a tray shyly and a small cup of that special brew she heard called mead. She didn't know why she grabbed it tonight when she hadn't the last few times she ate here. Perhaps, when she saw Astrid take a cup of it, it possessed her to do the same. It was only a little dose inside that cup, Tristen had thought.

She sat across from Astrid and Hiccup who were already bickering over something between them that she cared less to make sense of. It ended with a punch to his shoulder and a noisy kiss to her cheek.

"'ow long is et now?" Tristen had found herself to ask. The couple looked at her then looked at each other.

"Over half a year." Hiccup answered with a shrug. Tristen hummed, accepting the answer and looked at her plate of sustenance. A thick thing of mutton. She stared at it for a few seconds, not entirely used to the portion sizes of these people. She looked over when she heard a guttural grouse to her right. A boy with one of those ridiculous horned helmets with dirty black hair, had bitten right into the meat, grunting as he ate. She raised a brow in utter disgust at his display of manners before turning to her own.

However, she noticed that also seated was Gobber who was swinging his own attachable tankard to his lips. He was telling a rather husky Viking fella a story from his youth.

"So there I was, my sword long from me 'and. Me opponent was rea'y to cleave me arm in 'alf. 'e gave a mighty roar an' I thought I was finished," Gobber regaled. He raised his interchangeable hand in the air, emphasizing his dramatic epic. "With me own wit, I used me peg leg fer a weapon. Jabbed it right into his stomach, 'e released a bloodcurdlin' yowl as loud as a Nightmare. Blood drippin' from 'is gut an' I valiantly picked up me sword an' finished him off."

"Whoa," Fishlegs voiced while the others around Gobber like that manner-less mutton eater and the two fraternal twins, gasped in great interest. "It must've been horrifying to realize that you only had seconds left before you were stabbed or something, but your leg-"

Tristen peeled herself away from that conversation and glued her eyes to the wooden table, a look of melancholy and guilt glossing her eyes.

"Whoa, Tristen."

She looked up to see Astrid, leaned over and waving her hand in her face. Tristen looked up at her and swatted at her hand.

"Aye?" she said, rather coldly.

"You…sort of spaced out." Astrid said, brow raised, skeptical of the girl's distant behavior. "You okay?"

Tristen grunted her affirmation and took a swig of the mead. The liquor felt very pleasurable to her parch throat. Her memories seemed to have faded into completely nothingness at that moment. With that one dose of wonderful sweetness, she regained her composure and looked at the two Vikings in front of her.

"Wha'…wha' was he talkin' on?" Tristen asked them. It took Astrid a few moments while it took a moment for Hiccup to understand her question.

"A holmgang." He said to her. Tristen looked at him. "A Viking duel, usually to the death."

Tristen blinked. A duel with such a goal would sound barbaric to any foreigner.

"They are frequent?" She asked. Hiccup shook his head.

"We haven't had one for a while now." Hiccup informed. Tristen glanced at Gobber for a moment. "We found another way to deal with misunderstandings and lawlessness, peacefully."

"Don' like blood, eh?" Tristen asked, her cup close to her mouth again for another sip. Hiccup shook his head.

"What's the purpose of killing?" Hiccup questioned in his philosophical tone. Astrid and Tristen both looked at him. Astrid, in respect for his words, and Tristen, more in contemplation. "All violence seems to be about pride, or honor, or conquest-"

"Me Da…told me tha' there's difference," Tristen said as she stared at the liquid of her cup. Perhaps, the mead was starting to speak for her. To speak inner transgressions. "between killin' to save yer own an' jus' bein' a plain killer."

She dared to look the baffled teens in the eye and took her last swig before slamming the cup down in emphasis. She stared intently at Hiccup with an angry scowl.

"Yeh missed protection."

She stood up and limped out of the Great Hall without another word, returning to her solitude.

As she exited, Hiccup looked at his girlfriend who narrowed her eyes, arms folded and against the table as she reflected on the dark words muttered by the girl they knew absolutely nothing about.

"I'm starting to think you're right about her." Hiccup offered as he processed the chilling words that probably praised killing.

Astrid nodded, completely in agreement and satisfied that he sided with her, finally.

To be continued.

Please, click that button.