Astrid stirs the pot of leek soup simmering over the fire. Without eggs or cream, it's thin, pungent stuff. Blech. Hiccup had some before Gothi sniffed his belly wound, but he'll need more after she sews him up.

Suddenly the sickroom door opens and Stoick drags a snarling Toothless over the threshold. "That's three," he says grimly. "Stay with Astrid."

"Uh," Astrid replies to the closing panel. Toothless's claws score the wood in vain; his eyes plead with her. "Sorry," she says. "They w-won't let me in, either."

She wipes her nose as Toothless settles beside her. Stupid smelly leeks.


Author's Note: "The lady of leeks" is from a lausavísa by Vígfúss Víga-Glúmsson. Snorri Sturluson, in Ólafs saga Helga, tells the story of a woman who diagnoses the seriousness of warriors' stomach wounds by feeding them leek soup; if she could then smell the leeks in the wound, it was a bad sign.