After doing some research I realized time period for this story is the Edwardian era not the Victorian era as has been mentioned in conversation between me and some people.
The future is an opaque mirror. Anyone who tries to look into it sees nothing but the dim outlines of an old and worried face.
~Jim Bishop, New York Journal-American, March 14, 1959
"Hey Aurore," Dr. Drake calls as he and Hiccup come through the doorway to the basement stairs. He closes and locks the large door behind them. "Come see what Devona gave Hiccup." Hiccup sees Aurore grin. She sets down the potted plant she's holding on the lab table in front of her. She dusts off her hands then picks up her chalkboard. I was about to have lunch in the greenhouse, you two must be starving; I'll have the maids bring you something.
Aurore rustles Hiccup's hair as though he was still a very young child. Her bony fingers were cold. She takes hold of the fishing pole in Hiccup's hand raising an eyebrow. Oh well we can discuss them after lunch. She motions for the men to follow her.
The castle manor was humongous in size Hiccup knew that much. Even after several weeks spent in its confines he had only seen a small portion of it. Mainly the labs, the Professor's office, a few store rooms, one of the four libraries and of course the dungeons. He had yet to glimpse any of the upper floors or the east wing of the castle. Aurore already had turned twice down two enormous lengthy hallways. It was a maze.
The hallways were rather dim, lit by only natural light from windows at the ends of corridors. Hiccup glances at antique portraits of past inhabitants in battle armor and kilts. Bits of green and color against the bourbon style brown and dull red wallpaper. Men in robes and women holding staffs of gem and gold with pampered dogs on their laps; luckily none of the eyes seem to follow him. He stopped for a second to examine a very old portrait that stood out among the rest. Striking because it seemed to predate the other works, it was of a man wearing a simple circular gold crown that was fitted closely to his head. He was not a very young man or a very old man. His face was solemn and he held a sword unsheathed in one hand, the other was balled into a fist. It was the sword that caught his eye however. A dull colored gem centered in the middle of the cross guard, surrounded by the tail of a dragon that wrapped around the hilt, whose head and front paws rested on the pommel; under the left paw a bright colorless stone. Small circular ones of blue and green were inlaid into each side of the cross guard. Hiccup scrutinizes the black haired man for a moment.
He is suddenly distracted by the sound of a sliding glass door opening. He glances around, no one. Hiccup turns away from the painting and hurries down the hallway. He stops when he comes to a cross section between three hallways. The won directing in front of him stops short at a window. He looks in both of the directions scratching his head. Wonderful he was lost. He turns to the right and begins to walk aimlessly. "Oh Hiccup, they're you are parsnip," and elderly voice calls. It's the old oriental woman maid with the slight hunched of her back. She holds a feather duster in one hand. Hiccup didn't remember her name; he could never keep all the maids straight. "The Mistress and Master Drake are wondering where you got'ed off ta," she says walking over to him.
"Oh sorry I was just looking at that one painting over there."
"Ah a lot of paintings all over the manor, the mistress is a great fan of arts," she pats his hand with her wrinkly vein filled fingers. The pads of her palms and finger tips had gone squishy with age. "Do you like arts as well, parsnip?"
Hiccup shrugs, "I guess."
"Well then," she says looking over her shoulder," Come now I'll show you the mistress' favorite, if ya promise not to tell." The elderly woman weakly grips his fingers. Her tiny legs take gentle hurried steps as she led him down the dim hallway turning to the right back toward where he'd just come from. Near the end of the corridor before the crossway she pushes open a door to a dark room. "This here is the Blue Library." She clicks on the lights. It is not misnamed. Everything from the ornate wall paper to the furniture was all different shades of blue. The room is a square and not too grand in size, Professor's office was larger; it was the far reaching ceilings, lined with book shelves at 2 stories up that provided the compensation. "It's right over here," she points feebly. "The mistress' sister painted it."
"She has the sight they say." Nestled between two shelves in a gold ornate frame, there it was. A Grecian goddess in a garden of pale pink flowers with flowing red hair, looks away from the viewer. "It's stunning isn't it, considering she only met your mum once?"the old woman comments gazing warmly at the oil painting. The goddess wears fluid white gown that slits open to reveal her heavily pregnant belly. One hand rests on her stomach, the other fingers' run over a rose's petals.
"Tis the first one in a series, strange how the mistress does not place them all together," the maid comments, staring with inquisitive intensity at it. Hiccup gases up at it in a mix of awe and another emotion that squirms in the pit of his stomach that he can't easily place (fear perhaps?). This was the second image that had allowed him to set eyes on the woman the world claimed to have given birth to him. Throughout his life he had mourned the absence of a mother in his life, he realizes, but never had he truly mourned the death of this particular woman who'd stolen herself away from him. Hiccup takes a breath to steady himself a bit. This was his mother. The highly detailed painting gave much more insight to her than the faded darkened wedding photo.
Another breath. This strong elegant woman was his mother. Staring at this image she stopped being a ghost and became a living breathing entity that was not merely a shadow looming over him in life. He felt a vein connect between them. This was his mother. The one that was never truly his. Was it possible to miss something you'd never had? Hiccup lets his eyes travel down the length of the portrait.
Yes, yes it was.
The clucking of another maid's tongue, alerts them. This one had tan skin and blue eyes; she was half Aboriginal half, something else, presumably English or French. Her name was Talia, the only reason Hiccup remembered this was that Aurore had pointed out that it meant "near water". Her tenacity could give a mule a run for its money; Aurore had found the irony of her name humorous. "The Mistress has been looking after ya," she snaps in odd accented speech. "Mai Wen, I believe you had other things to do, you are not paid to show the boy art work." Her eyes dart between the pair and the portrait. "Come I'll show you to the green house."
Where'd the Hiccup get off too? Aurore questions peering behind Gobber as he takes his seat at the table. "Leave it to that boy to get lost," the Professor grumbles, "Oh well one of the maids will find him." Aurore holds gem stone in her hand, her eyes dimly aglow; she nods absently in reply to Ernest.
"Well since the boy's gone amiss, I have a question for you that have been rattling me. When you were with Astrid was her reflection reflected perfectly in the dragon's eye."
Aurore shakes her head sadly. It was warped, she signs.
"Then her life's purpose is not dragons, I forbid you from telling her about them until further notice."
BUT SHE HAS THE AMULET.
"I know this but that's all we know, if you're right about Val having something planned for her then well deal with that once we figure that out once we come to said bridge. Unless you've figured it already out of course."
Aurore glares, looking down. It's blurry, she mouths, not bothering to write or sign it out.
"As the future often is in that crystal ball thingamajig of yours. I'm not taking any chances with this remember what happened the last time I let a person who didn't reflect perfectly in the eye in on our little secret? I forbid you from even the slightest mentioning of dragonology."
Aurore's glare intensifies and for moment the professor wonders if he'll burst into flames. Sorry the possible happenings of the numerous dimensions are hard to sort out, but still she deserves to know, not be kept in the dark like a mushroom about the eventa revolving around her own life.
"Yes but we have no idea how to predict how she'll react to that knowledge. You made a vow Aurore, never to tell the secret of dragons to those untrustworthy, you can be kicked out S.A.S.D. for breaking it. And I don't want you letting the maids tell her either. We don't know if we can trust her, so not a word."
Aurore breathes out through her nose, relaxing. She shakes her looking back down at the soup in front her, all her rage gone from her like a candle was blown out. It was not a battle worth winning, furthermore he could be right. There were numerous ways in which things could all play out and the specific events were all jumbled together. Aurore never left things solely to fate, she was a busy woman after all. But Aurore knew better than to go tangling her threads in the dark.
Cauliflower and cheddar cheese soup was being served for lunch as it turned out. Hiccup could smell it from down the hall. Talia pulls open the glass door and steps out of the way for him to enter, her mouth a thin line but her eyes have a softness he has not seen before. "I too lost me mum when I was young." Her eyes focus intensely down on him. "A life time and half way around the earth later and it still hurts like hell." He nods, not sure at all how to reply to the woman. He sees Aurore beckoning to him inside so he steps past the threshold and leaves the woman behind. She may have captured the sky in her eyes but the rest of her remained solely on Earth.
"Did you get lost boy?" Gobber chuckles as the boy walks up to the table. Hiccup takes the empty seat at the wrought iron table across from Aurore. He places the plate on the table and fishing pole on the ground. A steaming bowl of soup sits in front of him. It's warm for soup, especially in the greenhouse. The green house is stuffed to the brim with plants, surrounded by green paned windows which have been thrown open to let in fresh air. Off in a corner Hiccup can spot a patch of sky blue star shaped petals growing.
Hiccup takes a spoonful of soup and beings blowing on the hot liquid. Aurore picks of the plate and turns its tarnished surfaces over in her hands. With raised eyebrows she mouths the poem. "What do you think it means?" Hiccup asks swallowing. Aurore shakes her head still mouthing the words. I am not sure. But Devona does not predict good things. The name of the poem is Odin's Doom.
"Odin's doom," the old man mumbles. Aurore sighs laying the plate down. She rubs her thumb against the orb around her neck. All of the more happy possibilities drifting away.
"Let's see the fishing pole then boy," Gobber says.
Hiccup hands it to him. Gobber examines it in his hands, "Seems sturdy enough."
"You know there's a stream out yonder in the woods I used to take Michael there as a boy."
"Thanks, but I'm not much of a fishing kind of guy," Hiccups says scrutinizing it.
"Nonsense all you have to do is stick the blasted hook in the water and wait."
Devona gave you the pole for a reason; I'd take a gander at trying it at least. With that Aurore stands up. I need a nap and after that I need to get ready, Astrid starts with me on Monday. So I'll leave you two to your lunches.
They silently watch her go before Gobber continues blabbering on about directions to the stream.
The sun had not even opened her eyes properly, only prodded a golden eye lash over the edge of the horizon when Astrid awoke. Gremmy snores slightly from his place curled up underneath her right arm. The little bit of sunlight shines on his brown coat. Astrid scratches him behind the ears gently and he stirs a little. The closest thing possible to a smile for a dog on his face. The air is cool from the night but steadily warming. Astrid looks out her window at the eastern sky with its tinting brightness against the dense blue sky. Her internship begins today and she feels strangely anxious. It felt like a step into unfamiliar waters. She was positive she would excel but the sense of beginning filled her stomach with an empty unsettled feeling.
Her mother had been using words sparingly with her since the day that Aurore woman had shown up at the door. She barked orders and little else. Astrid's heart ached a bit at this, but breaking course with one's mother was rarely a painless process. This only added to the anxiousness. Nothing ever good came of her mother holding up emotion like that; eventually she would come to explode like a horrific volcano spraying ash and molten rock everywhere. Or worse, she would eventually implode. This Astrid feared even more that ultimately her mother will collapse in on herself, never to rise from the ashes of her own destruction. Astrid breaths out slowly through her nose as she stares into the sunrise. Astrid's body is still comfortable in its state of unmoving from sleep. Her mind is awake and alert but her limps want little more than to drift back into the gentle sea of sleep. She lays there watching the sunrise until the sky is a gentle golden yellow.
Astrid is startled at the sudden shift of Gremmy in his sleep. She grins warmly at the sight of the tiny dog nestling his face deeper into the quilt. With a quick sigh, she throws off the blanket, and puts her feet onto the wooden floor. She walks over to her dresser and pulls out dark blue stockings that up past her knees, a green plaid skirt and a white blouse with simple cloth buttons going down the front.
She looks into her mirror, picks up a brush and begins running it through her hair. "You look like your father you know," her mother speaks somberly from the doorway, still in her night shift. Her mother walks up behind her and takes stands of Astrid's hair in her powerful fingers and begins braiding puts the brush down and stares at the reflection. "He always found it humorous that the only daughter I gave him was the only child that looked a lick like him." Astrid's father was a shot in the line of duty the summer she turned eight. "Your grandmother liked to point out that when a woman gives birth to a child that looks like the father that it means she's truly in love with him and that it took me three kids to get there," she says bitterly. Her hands forcefully tie a blue ribbon around the ends of her hair. "Oh well, either way you turned out beautiful." Astrid raises her eyebrows, but doesn't disagree. She isn't vain but she's not blind either. "A pretty face will get you a husband," her mother says turning to go, "But it won't get you into Oxford. Do well my daughter. And feed the chickens before you go." Astrid hears the thuds of her mother's footsteps as they go down the hall. In her way that was her mother's goodbye. Astrid felt very hollow about it all.
Astrid tosses handfuls dried corn in the chicken yard behind the house; they skitter happily around her ankles. She steps over the short wire fence, tossing a final handful of corn. She walks around the side of the house to the shed and rolls out a bicycle. The wheels move easily in the slick of the dew covered grass as she drags it over to the road. She stops at the gate and undoes the latch, pausing for a second to stare at the amulet in her reflection. She looks up at the calls of a flock of birds flying across the northern sky. She glares up at the road in front of her, today was not a day for distractions. Shoving off the ground, she mounts the bicycle and petals furiously toward town. The streets bustle with a few early risers, the baker and fishermen already at work. Astrid can see down the to the end of Main Street to the canal, most of the boats are already out on the water.
The twin's mother waves to her on her way to the book store she owned. Astrid waves back as she turns the corner off of Main Street and heads northwest toward the edge of town. As she pedals on up the road she can hear the sound of the cobblers hammer. The shops turn into houses that steadily grow sparser and poorer. The decaying shack-like homes were mainly the houses of fish hands and day laborers. A door slams, a baby wails, and a woman hangs up her laundry pass.
She bridges off the main road to the gravel one the leads up into the country side again. Mrs. Creighton swings back and forth on the porch of her Victorian style home. The deep purple and lavender paint of her house is neatly touched up contrasting to the peeling structures of most of the town. The house she built with money from God knows where. The two story elegant structure is well beyond the price range of a school teacher.
The woman releases on hand from her cup of tea and waves. It was rumored she was once mistress to a Spanish prince or that her father was the fairy king and her mother was a human and the leprechauns gave her all that gold. "Hurry up my girl, time is costly," she calls in a graceful voice. Astrid simply rolls her eyes and waves because she's out of ear shot. The woman was annoying most often at best.
The sun rises higher in sky as Astrid petals further northwest, past fields of grass, cows, and sheep. The quiet of the country side only disturbed by the rustle of wind and animal calls.
Astrid gapes up at the impending building in slight awe. Dark grey stone looming high into the sky. It's solid, un-ornate. Two identical towers soar out of the top; an enormous dragon clinging might as well had been clinging to one, surrounded by a thick guard wall. It was a mix of something out of a ghost story and something out of an ancient epic. Astrid steps off the bicycle and walks it up the gravel drive not wanting to burst one of the rubber tires.
As she approaches the door way her eyes do not leave the vast stone walls that grow seeming higher as she nears it. She leans her bicycle up against the outer wall and raps on the metal knocker of the door. The double doors are tugged open by the able hands of a servant. "I take you are Miss Astrid," says a woman in a gruff voice of strangely accented English. Her eyes were blue like the summer sky but her skin was tan like soft deer leather. She was also plump and rather tall.
"Astrid Hofferson at your service," She says evenly.
"Mistress Drake is expecting you, please come in." The woman steps out of the doorway and lets Astrid pass. "Follow me." The large bodied woman revolves on her heel and saunters down the long, very narrow entrance way with extremely tall vaulted ceilings. The hallway opens up to a much bigger room bursting with light from rows of windows and rows and rows of lab tables neatly covered in scientific gadgets and jars of chemicals.
Astrid follows the maid to the far end. Aurore is holds in hands a strange green hat with white fluffy feathers billowing out the top, a box with a ribbon sitting beside her on the table. She holds up her chalkboard hearing their approach. My sister sent it to me, says it's all the rage in New York. Frankly I think it its hideous.
She wiggles her nose and sets down the hat and turns to face Astrid fully. "It is an honor to be given the opportunity to study under you madam."
Aurore waves it away, we're happy to have you dear.
Aurore gestures to a neat assortment of objects in front of her. This should be all you'll need for the course of the internship.
A magnifying glass, a set of gloves, a set of goggles, an apron, a notebook of ruled paper, but it was the stack of books that took the cake. I know it's a lot, but I've read your school's curriculum and it's highly limited.
Basic Latin, a book on the anatomy and physiology of mammals as well as one for reptiles, basic botany and plant structures, a thick handbook on the medicinal properties of plants. Physics and two books on intermediate and advanced chemistry, a book on sign language, geology, and small red leather book on how to read old Nordic runes.
Aurore rubs her chin, one hand on her hip. Yes, that should do it.
You'll need to read all of these at home; you can leave them there of course. I recommend bringing the sign language on with you. It will be lot easier for us to communicate once I don't have to write out everything.
Here I'll get you a satchel to put them all in, she says pulling open a drawer.
Happy New Year!
Hope you enjoyed, please review ~Opaul
oh and p.s. next chapter we finally get to toothless.