Bryn settled Aurora in his favorite corner of the training hut, stroking his head to calm her nerves as her first class came in.
Chief Astrid had emphatically refused to let Bryn teach her brother, mentioning a variety of good reasons including scheduling, the Hatchery, and potential favoritism. Bryn had been fine not teaching him, but when she'd broken the news to Tor he seemed to deflate a bit, at which she promised to take him riding on Aurora right after her first proper area patrol. Sure, it wouldn't be for another year at least- Aurora was still not large or strong enough yet- but it would be at least three years before Tor even got his own hatchling.
She watched the gathering class out of the corner of her eye. She had the second-youngest group, all eight-year-olds. She recognized a couple of them as friends of Torbjorn's, but most were unfamiliar to her. One kept smirking at her and whispering to his friend, and something about his face was familiar, but she couldn't place it. She didn't think he was a friend of Tor's, but she felt like she should recognize that face framed in dirty-blonde curls.
She set the thought aside as she turned to face her small class. Almost at once the conversation died down, and instinctively she knew her next words would establish just what kind of relationship she'd have as these kids' teacher. It was monumentally important she not mess up right now—
"Hi kids! Welcome to dragon training!" Her idiot mouth said before her brain could stop her. She felt a little hot in the face as the blonde boy sneered. Most of the class looked dully back, unimpressed. She sighed internally.
"Sorry." She muttered briefly. "So. This machine, I would like to impress upon you, can be dangerous. It is, however, great at teaching you how to fly on a dragon even in extreme circumstanc— yes, uh, could you say your name?" She said, as the blonde put up his hand.
"If it's so helpful, why's nobody ever used it before?" He asked challengingly.
"Chief Hiccup only invented it a year ago, and we only finished testing its usefulness a few days ago. You didn't tell me your name." Bryn said, fixing him with a steady but hopefully not stern gaze.
"I'm Limpet, and my family are the best fliers on Berk. So if my family didn't test it, how do we know it's really good?"
It clicked. This little twerp was related to Deadworm. Bryn didn't smile, and her gaze became more intense as she stared down her new least-favorite student. "I hope you're not implying that your family can out-fly Chief Hiccup and Toothless. Perhaps you're a bit young to know the word "treason" but nobody out-flies the Chief. As for this machine's effectiveness, I believe I mentioned it was built by Chief Hiccup himself. You would not be here if it did not work well enough to teach young kids like you on, and it would not exist anymore if it did not work at all. Now be quiet, Limpet, and let me talk."
Brynjar took a breath, calming her temper momentarily. "This machine can be dangerous, but I assure you that if you follow my instructions you will be safe and, in a few short years, more ready to learn to fly on real dragons than any previous generation. I need a volunteer to help me demonstrate how it works—"
A couple hands shot up right away, a couple were slower in coming, and several remained down altogether. Among the fastest were Limpet and a kid she recognized as a friend of Tor's. Instead she chose a slower-coming hand, of a boy she didn't know at all, who introduced himself as Yuri.
As she was directing Yuri into the saddle, the door opened and Chief Hiccup himself appeared. Bryn managed not to jump, but bowed to him respectfully.
"To what do we owe—" she began, but Hiccup was waving off the pleasantries in his affable, friendly manner
"I'm only here to drop off Stoick. He was meant to be in your class but mysteriously vanished this morning…" Hiccup gave his son a gentle push forward, seeming half-amused and half-annoyed at the brunette boy.
"Oh— Okay—" Bryn stammered as Hiccup exited. She cleared her throat. "Well, welcome, Stoick. Um, this is the machine your father built, it's very dangerous if used incorrectly so it's important to listen to me, and Yuri here is going to help me demonstrate how to use it."
The boy nodded tightly, his lips pursed, and Bryn was disappointed; she didn't want to be disliked by the chief's son or any of her students, and since he was both it was double-bad, but she pushed it aside for the lesson.
"Alright. Yuri, grip here, lean forward. You're going to be lifted off the ground and blasted with air, just try to balance and it's okay to fall off or ask to stop." She spoke loudly enough for the rest of the class to hear, but not loudly enough it was clear that that was on purpose. She straightened and turned to the class. "This machine is easy to fall off of, and increases in difficulty the longer you stay on, so if I hear one person teasing anyone who falls off, or laughing, there will be consequences."
She spaced the watching class so everyone could see and nobody would be blasted by air, then went to the controls. "Ready, Yuri?" She asked, giving him an encouraging smile. He smiled back, not visibly nervous at all, and nodded. Bryn began working the levers, and Yuri's eyes widened suddenly.
Yuri wobbled more and more as the machinery cycled, and lasted only three cycles before flipping. Bryn shut off the wind immediately and waited for Yuri to stand away fromt eh machine before lowering the dummy back to the floor. "Well done, Yuri." She complimented him. "That was a very good first run, I'm impressed. You didn't hurt yourself when you fell?" She asked, suddenly concerned.
Yuri shook his head as he went back to the rest of the class. It occurred to Bryn that she ought to teach them a few combat techniques, since much of the class would be standing around most of the time.
"Before anyone else goes," Bryn decided, "I'm teaching you all how to fall without hurting yourselves."
"What." She heard Limpet say, but she ignored him.
"When you learn to fight, this will be a vital skill. It's all-around useful to know, especially on this machine. Now, gather in a circle and watch me." Bryn waited for the class to gather close, leaving enough space in front of her for her to fall without hitting anybody. She held up her arms, bent at the elbows so her hands were at her shoulders. "You want to try to take the fall on the flat parts of your arms, so you're as spread-out as possible, like so." As she had been taught by Astrid's friends, she toppled forward deliberately and smacked the padded floor, hands slapping the ground and her face sideways to avoid breaking her nose. She stung a little, but immediately sprang back to her feet. "Everyone spread out and give it a couple tries."
The class obeyed, Limpet and a couple others looking grumpy, several looking confused, and a couple, including Stoick, looking vaguely interested. Most managed to take the fall properly, and from this group Bryn chose a girl who said her name was Cockroach, to go next. Roach lasted two cycles and fell, and was followed by another student, and another. The room was an odd sight; the students who weren't on the dummy were spaced between the vents and toppling over, over and over again, smacking the ground loudly, but not painfully— if they were doing it right. Bryn was pleased to see they were getting it better and better. She went around the room one by one. The longest anyone stayed on was three cycles, including Limpet, who looked distinctly annoyed as he dusted himself off. Stoick, on his turn, looked very nervous, and only barely lasted into the second cycle before slipping sideways into the ground. He didn't seem annoyed or disappointed or even resigned. Bryn couldn't read his expression fully, but he was clearly suppressing some emotion.
Bryn had no time to ponder as she went around the room again, then glanced out the window to check the position of the sun. She winced, realizing how late it was getting, and finished the round before shutting down the machine and dismissing the class. She sighed, relieved it was over. She wouldn't have to worry about it for another two days.
She felt a tug at her tunic. "Miss Ottars-Freyasdottir?" She heard a small boy's voice ask nervously. She turned to see Stoick Hofferson-Haddock II looking up at her, his eyes nervous and pleading.
"It's Bryn." She said gently, trying very hard not to show her own nerves. "What's the matter?"
Stoick sighed, scratching his wrist in a show of nerves. "Daddy and Mommy told me I was supposed to talk to you about something." He muttered, looking around at the empty building to double-check it was empty.
"Of course. Come sit over here." Bryn said, moving over to the dummy and using it like a bench, patting the space beside her. Stoick sat down next to her, looking really uncertain.
"I'm worried I have to be as good as Daddy and Mom." He burst out suddenly, his arms folded over his belly. He looked rather queasy.
"Of course you don't. You're not them." Bryn answered immediately.
"But everyone expects me to be that good! They're the chiefs! Mom has all these great warrior ancestors and Dad comes from a huge long line of chiefs! And I know he's all different from his dad and his dad's dad and everything but he was still great- he IS still great at everything, and I'm not even as good as Limpet." It sounded like he'd been waiting to say all this for a while.
Bryn thought for a while. "Well," she said slowly, "you shouldn't listen so much to what you're expected to be. Just, just try to do what you want to do."
"I don't know what I want to do. Everyone else I know wants to be something, but I, I don't know what I want to be because I have to grow up and be chief."
Bryn considered this. "Well- there's a lot that could happen between now and then. No, listen to me, " she said, cutting off his next argument. "The future almost never happens the way we think it will. Now it's true that usually the next chief is chosen by heredity- by, by who's the chief's son, but it isn't always. And you're still very young, you have your whole life ahead of you to figure out what you love to do. Now what I'm going to tell you next will sound very strange, but I promise you it's important."
Stoick looked up at Bryn curiously.
"You said you weren't as good as the other kids in class. But are you as good as you are?"
Stoick looked confused. Bryn had expected it and kept talking, repeating a speech her father had given her when she'd told him she didn't want to be a dragon-rider like Mom because she was scared of heights and couldn't ever be as good.
"So you have powerful and great parents. People will expect greatness from you no matter what. People rarely take the time to treat everyone as an individual; it's not unexpected. If you'd been born to more average parents, you'd be expected to be average. People will always expect something from you based on what they think of your family, the way you look, the first thing they heard you say. Most of the time it means nothing. Today was only the first lesson, and you have so much time to work out what you want to do and how to get good at it. When I ask you if you're as good as you are, I'm asking if you are thinking about the image other people have of you, or if you're thinking about how good you are in comparison to how you did before."
Stoick was silent, processing this, then shook his head. "I'll try to ignore what other people expect, but it's so hard."
"It gets easier." Bryn assured him. "And when you've started working at being good at what you like, people will see you more for you and less for your parents. And anyway, a lot of what you imagine people think isn't actually what they think."
Stoick smiled. "How do you know?"
"Have you not heard of Freya Tyrs-Skadisdottir?" Stoick nodded, eyes wide. "Well, I always thought everyone would expect me to be as good as Mom, but actually it was just people trying to encourage me when I was younger. Sure, there are people who really think I should be at least as good as her, but there are many people who are smarter than that and have judged me by what they have seen of me, however little." Bryn had no idea if what she had just said was true, but Stoick needed to hear that he could be whatever he wanted to be.
"Thank you, Miss Bryn." Stoick said, surprising her with a hug around the middle.
"Of course." Bryn said as he released her. "And it's just Bryn. If there's anything else you're worried about, don't hesitate to come talk to me." She added. It wasn't part of her job, but she was taking a liking to the little guy.
Stoick smiled and jumped to his feet, trotting away down the path back to the main village.
Bryn sighed, her face in her hands. Overall, nothing catastrophic had happened during that first lesson, but it could've gone better. Stoick seemed scared to be there, Limpet seemed ready to fight her, and the rest would likely end up feeling ignored.
Aurora nosed is head under her hand, and she started scratching behind his skull the way he liked, thinking.
"Do you think I could get Limpet to like me?" She wondered aloud, ostensibly asking the dragon. She glanced down at him, but his yellow eyes were half-lidded and he clearly wasn't paying attention. Not that he could have responded, but sometimes he made his opinion on things known. She sighed, her mind drifting. Then she giggled, and Aurora looked up at her, eyes still half-lidded but curious.
"Oh, it's not really that funny," Bryn said, "but Astrid said I'm like Hiccup. Well, Hiccup made it so we're all friends with dragons, right? Well, right now, Deadworm and her friends are bullies, but I now have the chance to be friends with her little brother." She giggled. "Imagine how Deadworm would react!"
Aurora closed his eyes as her hand reached his favorite spot, and he collapsed, sighing happily, his claws twitching in a satisfied way.
"Come on, Aurora, time to go home." Bryn said, standing up and strolling over to the door. "We've got to plan how to handle this."
Aurora gave a growl that Bryn correctly interpreted as a groan. "Come on, Lazybones, you've done nothing but sit around today. If you get up soon you'll still be able to fly while it's warm out."
Grudgingly, the ice-like dragon rolled to his paws and followed Bryn towards the village. Halfway down, they both broke into a run, racing each other to the first house of the village. Aurora could have beat Bryn easily, but he just stayed a little ahead of her to make her run faster.
"You jerk," Bryn gasped out, panting and bent over, catching her breath before they went home.
"Hey, jerkface!" An all-too-familiar voice called out to her. Deadworm was sauntering over. Bryn straightened and began to walk away, Aurora close at her side.
"Hey, buttwipe," Deadworm said, less loudly now that she was walking alongside Bryn. Bryn continued to ignore her until Deadworm shoved her, forcing her to trip over Aurora so she ended up on the ground. Though she only had a year of battle training, Bryn was able to instantly roll back to her feet— she was used to opponents much bigger and better than Deadworm. Her hand was at her belt where her practice sword was in practice, but found only her dagger. Without thinking she pulled it out and waited for Deadworm's next move.
Deadworm had flinched back, not expecting this to escalate. "Woah, calm down, crazyface. I'm just here to tell you, you mess with m little bro, you deal with me, right?"
"Just try." Bryn spat back, very pissed off and struggling to control herself. Deadworm pulled out her own knife and they engaged. Bryn had clearly better technique, but wasn't good enough to avoid getting shoved over, this time over Deadworm's Monstrous Nightmare. A twist from the larger girl's knife, and Bryn released her own dagger, clutching her bleeding hand.
"If I hear anything from Limpet, you're dead meat, you stuck-up spit-rag." Said Deadworm, holding up her knife threateningly. Bryn glared back silently until Deadworm released her and walked away.
Aurora raced over to her and began sniffing her hand, tentatively licking it. Bryn briefly scratched his head with her good hand, and picked up her fallen dagger and re-sheathed it with the same hand. She tightened her damaged hand into a fist, hoping the pressure would help keep the bleeding down until she could bandage it. "Let's go, Aurora." She said tightly, starting briskly down the high street in the direction of her home.
"Bryn! How was your first…" Ottar greeted her, trailing off at her expression. "What's happened?"
"The lesson was good, but I accidentally cut my hand. Where are the bandages?" She said stiffly, showing her red-decorated clenched fist.
"In the tackroom, come on." Ottar said, and the two of them went out to the hatchery, into the small side-room, which contained the saddles of the few adult dragons they kept, various veterinary medicines in one locked cupboard, and human medicine in another locked cupboard. Ottar handed Bryn bandages and used a cloth to gently wipe around the cut. Bryn self-applied the bandages expertly— cuts were common in the hatchery— then Ottar cut off the length and returned the roll as Bryn fixed the bandage in place.
"That looked like a knife-cut, Bryn. What happened?" Ottar asked, watching her closely. Bryn didn't look at her father.
"I fell down and hit a sharp rock dad, that's all." Bryn muttered, turning away and walking back to the house. She didn't know if Ottar would believe her, but she was positive he wouldn't question her on something she clearly didn't want to talk about.
Suddenly, Bryn was hit in the back by something that, once again, made her fall over. She didn't dare roll over onto her small attacker, because on her way down she heard the squeal that meant Tor was simply greeting her return home.
"Tor, if you keep me pinned, I can't hug you back," Bryn said, voice muffled through her sleeve.
"Slimy said you were going to teach your class how to fight! How come you aren't teaching me?" Tor complained, crawling up to her shoulders and lying down on top of her.
"Because you're holding me down on the ground and making it impossible." Bryn said.
"Come on, you could get up if you wanted to. You've given me sheep-back rides before." Tor complained.
"Nope. You've defeated me. I can't get up." Bryn said, stretching her limbs out and lying limply.
"No! Bryn, get up!" Tor said, getting off of her and tugging at her arm. Aurora, who had been waiting by the door, saw this and darted over, using his long, strong neck to help Tor pull her to her feet. Bryn scratched his head, letting him know she wasn't really hurt, then dusted herself off onto Tor.
"ACK! Bryn!" Tor whined, wiping his now-dusty hands all over her tunic.
"What? Stop wiping your filthy paws all over me!" Bryn retorted, grinning and pushing his hands away.
"Teach me to fight!" Tor said eagerly.
"Okay, but we're doing it right. First you have to learn how to fall, because if you don't know how to fall you can't learn to fight without hurting yourself." Bryn said.
"Really?" Tor asked, looking hesitant and disbelieving.
"Really. It's the first thing Chief Astrid taught me." Bryn said, which wasn't strictly true, but it had occurred to the chief that there was some danger in going up in the trees, and she'd taught Bryn how to fall with minimal injury.
"Okay. How do we do it?"
And so Bryn set about teaching her little brother the first parts of hand-to-hand fighting.