AN: Wow, this fic just made it over 200 followers! ö.ö This makes me so happy, and I hope not to disappoint even when some chapters might be duller than others. Not everything can be an explosion ^^"
You might notice that this chapter was up later than usual... Well, this is going to be the time I aim at from now on. ;)
Today's chapter's title comes from the song 9 Crimes by Damien Rice.
***Shoutouts***
To CAE: Hehe... hehehehehe... hehehe... Be prepared for more cliffhangers to come xD
To Httyd. Krokmou: I already answered your questions in a PM, but I'll do so here again so others can see them too. This chapter continues right after the one before, when Astrid leaves the stables. And no, I'm not going anywhere. ^^ This story will go on, don't fear. The 'Hides Under Rocks' comment was kind of an in-joke ;)
To BrawlerGamer: Ah, hehe, did I trick you? ;) That first paragraph was actually the very very first I wrote for this story, and I couldn't wait to finally use it.
To tom80: Oh, no, I'm by far not the most regular customer in that bar *laughs* I'm probably one of the tamer ones... But! I do have a plaque on one of the barstools. xD
To Vivi-ntvg: Uh oh... I hope the windows are pitchfork-proof ^^
To Berry: I hope this timing was better? ;)
And oh yes, they definitely became reckless, these two lovesick idiots... They might want to be more careful in the future... And don't worry... the angst will come... :|
The news that arrived just meant that the Berserkers are now there, btw.
To PuzzledParis: Aaww, thank you! Your comment made me so happy! :D
To my dear Lady: A little impatient, are we? ;)
. o O o .
Chapter 13: It's The Wrong Time For Somebody New
Astrid had an intense sense of déja vu.
Entirely caught up in her thoughts, she once again was following her warder up the path to the castle, letting him lead her through the brimming corridors and into her rooms, and stood still as he and his sister cleaned her up and got her dressed. And all the while, she wasn't able to think about anything but Hiccup.
But unlike that day a few weeks ago, when her head had been full of that confused longing for a near-stranger, all she felt today was fear.
How much had Eret seen? Had he just noticed Hiccup touching her accidentally? Or had he seen more? Had he seen how his fingers had lingered, caressing her tenderly, her blissful smile as she'd enjoyed his touch?
The uncertainty was driving her crazy. She itched to get out of her rooms, out of this silent bubble where no news could reach her. Had their acting been enough to convince Eret? Or had he gotten suspicious, had he been able to put two and two together? Had he told Daniel? Surely, a small touch like that wouldn't be enough to directly hang Hiccup... right?
But if they cut off his hand...
She swallowed hard at the thought and tried to keep her breathing at a normal pace. But while she struggled to outwardly appear unperturbed, Astrid couldn't stop her thoughts from running in circles over and over again. What was happening to Hiccup right now? She was sure that she would know if something... bad happened, that she would feel it if… if...
No!
She couldn't even think about it, wouldn't let herself think about it. Hiccup couldn't die, he simply couldn't.
Fighting her anxiety, she tried to keep her facade calm as the twins bustled around her. Once her hair was fixed in one of its usual complicated patterns, her hands and arms were covered in elbow-long golden gloves, and every part of the blue-and-golden dress sat correctly on her form, Tuff led her through the crowded castle to the upcoming reception. She had to put in a lot of effort to not simply run ahead, but instead keep with Tuff's entirely too-slow pace. She was desperate to reach their goal, to see him. As Eret's squire, he would surely attend formal occasions with his knight, an occasion such as the reception for another Grand Duke and his heir… wouldn't he?
Oh please, Odin, Frigga, and Freya, please let him be there. Let me know that he's all right.
But this time, her prayer went unheard.
When they finally reached the formal room where her father and the rest of her adopted family were waiting, her heart dropped painfully. Hiccup was nowhere to be seen, not standing behind his master and not standing at attention at the side of the room either.
Breathing shakily, Astrid stepped inside as Daniel and Eret greeted her with smiles that held too much tension to be called calming. In fact, all of the men were strangely tense, their brows furrowed and their shoulders bunched together defensively, with jaws set in dour and contemplative expressions. The sight didn't help to relieve Astrid's own anxiety, not one bit. This was supposed to be a joyful reunion of friends, wasn't it? Had something happened that overshadowed the happy event? Something that, maybe, involved someone they'd all cared about at some point?
The thought made her chest tighten further. Was there concern in their eyes? Some reassurance maybe that her offender was... 'dealt with'? Astrid wished she could look into their heads, learn what made them so tense, could ask what had happened while she'd been locked in her rooms, ask why their friend wasn't here. But that was a dangerous idea in this formal setting.
While Astrid had to wear her mask as Princess Royal of House Hofferson, she also knew that her father and the others had similar masks to wear. At the moment, it wasn't her father, adopted uncle and brothers in the room, but King Hofferson, Crown Prince Daniel, Grand Duke Eastervale, and Knight of the Realm and Ducal Heir Eret III instead. And asking those men after a squire's well-being would only raise unnecessary suspicions.
And she didn't get the chance to place any inconspicuous remark either. The moment she took her place at Daniel's side, her father nodded to one of the servants and the parade began. The first to enter were some of her father's highest ranked vassals, followed by those of House Jag'r – Eret the Elder, followed by dozens of dukes, counts and even a few lucky barons having attached themselves to the retinues of their lords. She recognised some of their faces – like Duke Thuggory – while others were only vaguely familiar to her, if at all. Next came another group of richly clothed noblemen, House Berserker's vassals no doubt, judging by their tanned skin and brightly coloured robes.
As her gaze wandered through the room, her nervousness grew. More than one high lord or knight had brought their squires, and she couldn't keep her gaze from flickering to Eret. Why wasn't Hiccup here as well? Usually, she dreaded interacting with him in such a public setting where she couldn't even smile or exchange a friendly word with him, but him not being here set her on edge in an entirely different way.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. Hiccup was fine, he had to be. She wouldn't let herself believe anything else. The tense looks on the men's faces bothered her, but something was weird there. Of all four, Eret looked the least upset, and wouldn't he be the most worried if his squire had gotten punished? But Eret didn't look upset. On the contrary, he looked eager and anticipatory despite the tension a minute ago, his gaze directed straight at the gate at the other end of the room.
Of course... He wasn't thinking about Hiccup or his well-being at all right now, Astrid thought despondently. And if she was honest with herself, she couldn't even blame him.
Her gut churning with anxiety and her mask with the pleasant smile in place once more, she stood still, waiting, as the Grand Duke of Southshore, Admiral Oswald of House Berserker, and his son Dagur finally came into view. The Grand Duke's long black hair stood in direct contrast to his son's wild red mane, but they both shared the same green eyes that always seemed to twinkle humorously. A small buried part of her was happy to see them, as they were two other members of the group that she considered to be her closest family, blood or not – but the tension in her heart quickly drowned out that happiness again.
Her father greeted their guests ostentatiously, welcomed the Grand Duke and all his vassals to the capitol. Many big words were exchanged, words which Astrid barely registered. At some point, the formal formation had loosened up, and she took the opportunity to greet Dagur and his father personally, grateful for finally being allowed to do something.
"Hey, little sis," Dagur greeted her merrily, scooped her up in one of his trademark hugs, and whirled her around in a mad circle. "Look at you, all grown up. How long has it been now? Three years?"
"One," she corrected him, laughing shakily. Dagur made it easy to push aside troublesome thoughts, and she loved her adopted brother dearly for that. She really needed his distraction right now.
"No way!" He threw her another cheeky grin, then turned to Daniel who had just finished greeting Lord Oswald. "And you, still in one piece, I see? What exactly are you doing in Westhill all the time? Playing dress-up with Snot?"
Snorting, Daniel shook his head. "Good to see you too, Dagur," he said, but added, "I think," when he, too, got pulled into a hearty hug.
"I've heard the Malarians aren't as stupid as we think. They know our Prince is far too valuable to simply kill him, so they try their best to capture him alive and unharmed for the ransom." Eret commented dryly as he clapped one hand on Dagur's shoulder to get his attention. The two men shared a grin as they grabbed each other's forearms in greeting.
"Man, it's good to be here again," Dagur said after they'd parted, looking around the room with a wistful grimace. The gathered noblemen were breaking up into small knots of conversation centred around the high tables that were scattered around the periphery of the room. This wasn't a full meal like Eret's accolade had been or Dagur's tomorrow would be, so the small tables allowed people to circulate and socialize without the difficulties of seating. "Look how everyone is so civilised, talking without yelling insults or open death threats." Sighing, he shook his head.
Astrid cocked her head in confusion, but Eret and Daniel shared a knowing grimace, before her brother nodded, "Yeah, Father told us about the message you sent ahead. Are things really getting that bad around Southshore?"
Dagur hesitated as two serving girls came by, offering them drinks and a plate with appetizers, grinning at Dagur as they did so. From what Astrid knew from Heather, Dagur was quite popular among the kitchen staff for his compliments for their cooking – and for how politely he treated Heather's co-workers.
The group all took one of the offered glasses – wine for Astrid, beer for the men – and pastries. Astrid's heart cramped at the taste of honey and nuts, at yet another reminder of Hiccup. But Daniel's last comment somewhat eased her anxiety. Apparently, there was another explanation for the men's tension earlier; a message sent by Grand Duke Oswald, and not the failing of a squire. That was reassuring, at least. She looked up from the pastry in her hand, determined not to panic, and concentrated on Dagur again.
He eyed his own pastry with a small smile before eating it in one swallow. Then his face turned grim and he nodded at Daniel's and Eret's questioning look. "Yes, it's been... rough lately." He washed down the pastry with a swallow of beer and sighed. "An entire town was burned down the week before last, in an act of spite. The whole place was reduced to smoking rubble, rendering one of our major trade ports and shipbuilding centres flat out gone. We haven't even found all of the bodies yet, and the survivors are all homeless and lost everything... and all because that… that bastard wasn't willing to give up the land he'd stolen from Count Ravenledge."
"If I can't have it, nobody can'?" Eret asked disbelievingly, and Dagur nodded again.
"Aye. That's even pretty much exactly what he said before Father took his sword and dropped his head from his shoulders." Dagur scowled. "Quote Father, 'If you're so determined to act like one of the enemies that you'll burn one of our own towns, then I'll treat you like one!'" He let out another sigh, more pained than the first. "Hopefully that'll put a chilling effect on these disputes, but they've been getting worse. While this was an escalation in size, we've already had hamlets burned."
"We will have to find a solution for that, and soon," Daniel agreed. "I've looked into the reports lately, and, well, for all of the smoke, this fire seems to be mostly because a small number of high lords are being greedy and support their vassals in border disputes – and then it escalates when the displaced nobles try to take their homes back... or, if they can't, then they try to take someone else's. It's like... like they're all struggling over a sheet of cloth, not caring if it gets torn, only that they get the biggest piece! As if we wouldn't have enough on our plate already with the Malarian raiders..." He gritted his teeth. "But as for Count Ravenledge... From what father said about the message you sent, he came with you, right? Which one is he?"
Dagur let his eyes wander through the room for a moment, then nodded toward Grand Duke Oswald. Astrid followed his gaze to a man standing behind the Grand Duke. He was old, with greyish hair and a stern look on his worn face, but his eyes were alive and full of spirit. Next to him stood who had to be his son, a young man, hardly more than a boy really, tall with dark brown hair. "That's him, the poor fellow over there," Dagur explained offhandedly. "He wants to petition for help in rebuilding his town. Currently, most of his subjects found some kind of accommodations in the surrounding hamlets, but... well, it's not practical in the long term. The people need their healer to be reachable, just like their craftsmen, and don't get me started on the temples. Frigga's Herra holds her court in a barn these days. Anyway, despite him being… difficult occasionally he's one of our more loyal vassals, so Father is going to support his petition. I also took his younger son as my squire. Or rather, will take him… once I'm a knight." At that he winked, grinning, and the almost-depressed atmosphere from a moment prior lightened noticeably.
"Right," Daniel said, fighting the grimace off his face. "We'll spend enough time talking about politics, let's not go there today." His gaze wandered back to where Count Ravenledge stood, then gave a small nod as if to himself. "But to be fair and keep up appearances… why don't you introduce your squire?"
Dagur looked at him puzzled, but then his face cleared. "Oh, you mean…" he trailed off, eyes shifting to Eret.
Astrid swallowed as the reference to Hiccup brought back her anxiety. But neither Daniel or Eret seemed concerned or upset in any way at his mentioning. So maybe Eret hadn't really seen anything after all, had believed their little stunt? Gods, she hoped this was the case.
"So, he agreed?" Dagur continued curiously. "That's good to hear. And yeah, sure, I can introduce him to you. Reminds me though, what happened to your squire, Daniel? What was his name? Miles?"
"Milburn," Daniel corrected and added dryly, "And I left him in Westhill. He needs the sword training with the soldiers and the tactical training with the captains far more than I need someone to help me get dressed."
"See? You're hardly better than I am when it comes to formality," Eret chuckled as Dagur beckoned the youth over. He reacted eagerly, as if he'd only waited for this to happen even though custom hardly demanded for a squire to be introduced personally to the Prince. Hiccup had been a reasonable exception. She still wondered why Hiccup wasn't here, but at least he didn't seem to be in immediate danger. She just needed to wait, to play her part, and surely, she would learn about it, sooner or later. There was no need to worry...
As the boy walked over toward their group, Astrid was even more reminded of Hiccup. It wasn't that the boy actually looked that much like him. Sure, he was tall and slender as well, but where that was Hiccup's natural build with lean muscles hiding beneath smooth skin, this boy only looked lanky and gangly. He had brown, shaggy hair, but it was a few shades darker than Hiccup's; missing the reddish hue in it, and not thick and naturally unruly, but rather carelessly untidy-looking. And his eyes were mostly brown with only a slight tone of green in them. His clothing also had a sort of hard-used, practical feel to them, underneath the silk tabard in House Berserker's golden hue that he wore, very much like the outfit that Hiccup had worn during Eret's accolade. Although, instead of patterned leather, his was a quilted gambeson that, while quality, had clearly also seen hard use.
No, all in all, he didn't resemble Hiccup that strongly. But even though she still didn't know whether Eret had noticed anything, her immediate fear for her soulmate was quenched and the usual yearning for him set in. Astrid missed him even after only a few hours, longed to see him and knew it. And every similarity, no matter how small, reminded her of how he wasn't here with her.
When the boy had reached them, Dagur put on an almost comically serious expression and said in a deliberately exaggerated formal voice, "May I introduce: His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Daniel, Her Royal Highness, Princess Astrid, and Sir Eret III, Heir to House Jag'r. And this is Lord Harold of House Ravenledge, my squire-to-be."
Astrid thought she heard a slight quiver in Dagur's voice as he spoke of House Jag'r, but decided it best not to pay it any attention. Instead, she watched the youth as he gave a curt nod toward Daniel. "It is an honour to meet you, Milord," he said in a sure voice and took a spot around the table.
Daniel paused at the lack of formality, but then shrugged and gave Harold a scrutinising look. "House Ravenledge…" he began thoughtfully, then his face lit up. "Of course. I knew your father looked familiar. Your brother Angus is part of my Westhill contingent, isn't he?"
Harold nodded, a stern expression on his face. "He is, Milord, which is a shame. We really could have used his help during the last few weeks." The look he gave Daniel wasn't challenging, not really. But the way he daringly held his Prince's gaze wasn't deferential in any way either.
The bluntness seemed to surprise Daniel. Or was it carelessness the young man showed? Was the boy even aware of how inappropriate his words had been?
Ignorant to the slight tension that was building, Harold turned away from Daniel without being dismissed, and nodded to Eret in silent greeting before he turned his attention to Astrid. He stepped forward to reach for her hand and, holding it tightly in his, placed a firm kiss on its silk-covered back.
Surprised by that bold and unrefined action, she quickly drew the hand back – maybe too quickly to be polite. But the boy didn't seem to mind. Instead, he gave her a wide smile and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Milady. You really are as beautiful as everyone says."
Astrid blinked. Who was this boy? Or, more to the point... Who did he think he was? While he hadn't violated the letter of social etiquette, his tone and manner seemed... off, with his bluntness and lack of circumlocution and courtesy. Holding her hand tightly pressed to her chest, she regarded the young man in front of her with bewilderment, while, around her, Daniel and Eret threw Dagur wary looks.
"Well, he obviously still needs to learn about etiquette," Dagur sighed with an apologetic shrug. "His father made a point of keeping with the soldiering tradition and all that, and left little time for the social niceties."
"Meaning...?" Eret asked leadingly.
Harold turned and looked Eret in the eye – making Astrid's own eyebrow raise up despite herself – and said, "Well, Father always said that this," he tugged at his gambeson, "is truth, and this," he pinched the silk Berserker tunic and nodded towards Astrid's silk dress, "is a distraction from what we are." He crossed his arms. "Our grandfathers didn't become lords because the gods chose them. They became lords because they were the hardest..." his eyes glanced at Astrid and he swallowed his next words, "the hardest and hardiest warriors, and took it from those who had grown soft and forgotten the truth of the sword and armour." He thumped a fist on his heart. "House Ravenledge doesn't forget that truth."
And yet you had a town taken from you... Astrid thought, frowning slightly.
Daniel nodded. "I've heard your brother make similar comments. And I can attest that he hasn't forgotten this truth either. But here we don't have to be soldiers." His lips tweaked for a moment. "So at ease, soldier."
Harold nodded, and Dagur clarified, "But that doesn't mean complete familiarity, mind you. This is new for you, but you had best behave yourself and act like the nobleman your grandfather fought for you to become."
"Meaning...?" Harold asked leadingly, obviously mimicking Eret's former tone.
"Well," Daniel said with a raised eyebrow, "technically, it's too late for this now, but a bit of advice for your future, Harold: The general protocol is that you're allowed to forgo formal titles outside of formal situations, as we won't be using those come summer anyway. But keep in mind that not every nobleman likes being spoken to in such a manner." And, with a tight frown at Astrid's hand, as she was still clutching it to her chest, he added, "Or every Lady, for that matter."
The look Harold threw her and Daniel showed nothing but confusion, and Astrid felt sorry for him. Somehow, Harold's presence made her feel uncomfortable, but there was no need to make it harder for him. All this had to be utterly baffling for the boy, especially with what Dagur had said about his upbringing and, in addition, with what had happened to their town.
Taking a deep breath, she called forth memories of Hiccup to wash away her uneasiness. She remembered the soft kisses he'd breathed onto her hand earlier, and it made her feel better in an instant. And it reminded her that it wasn't the boy's fault she was so anxious today.
"Ah, he'll learn that soon enough," Dagur said, dismissing the boy with a friendly nod and a wave of his hand. "But on to more entertaining points. What about our bet? Have I won? Which stallion did he choose?" He grinned widely at Eret who chuckled and rolled his eyes.
"You can't 'win a bet' when we both agreed on what the outcome would be," Eret said matter-of-factly, but there was a barely hidden smile on his face.
"Ah, we agreed? I don't remember it that clearly anymore, not after all of that beer. Well, we could always ask… ah... your squire. Maybe he remembers what we said exactly in that tavern. Where is he anyway?" Dagur looked around the room and Astrid bit her lip, trying not to show how interested she was in this question too.
"He's not here," Daniel said. He sounded calm, but there was something else in his voice, a certain solicitude that simultaneously worried and soothed Astrid. Daniel seemed concerned for Hiccup, so he obviously didn't know. But why was he so concerned? Why wasn't Hiccup here?
"Huh, I see...," Dagur grunted, and when he changed the topic, Astrid was glad over the distraction. Apparently, she wouldn't learn why he wasn't here, and thinking too much about him, worrying over him, wouldn't do her any good tonight. He didn't seem to be in any immediate danger; that had to be enough. "Anyway... I was right, wasn't I? Which stallion did you pick? It was Twilight Shadowrunner, or whatever he's called. The black one?"
"Shadowwalker," Eret corrected reflexively.
"Trample, yes," Daniel confirmed with a sly grin. "I'm that predictable, am I not?"
"You definitely are," Eret laughed as Dagur clapped Daniel on the shoulder, and even Astrid's lips twitched slightly.
"Ah, and that means everything goes as I'd hope. I get Blazing Thunderstriker – that name alone gives me goosies – and he's such a pretty animal, with his golden fur and black legs and mane." Dagur stared into the distance with a ridiculously dreamy expression, before he became – somewhat – serious again. "Seriously, I was in love with this horse since I first saw him. And, even better, Snot gets the other one, the wild one. Anyone up for a bet how often he'll get thrown off in, say, the first week? Ah, I can see it in my head already, we'll have so much fun. That is... At least, if it's still the plan that I and Snotman get the other two?"
"Yes, don't worry. Those two are still supposed to be gifts for your accolades. But nice to see that you already know everything about this surprise," Daniel snorted through the general amusement.
Dagur lifted his arms in comical defence, maybe in an attempt to look innocent. He failed miserably. "Hey, it's not my fault that the stable boys weren't talking about anything else when I accompanied this chipmunk here," – he nodded at Eret – "back to the stud farms. They were all about what a great honour it was that their horses were to be such treasured gifts. And also how much they'd like to see our faces the first time they throw us off. Mind you, I don't think they knew who I was when they told me, but it was great fun. I know for a fact that there are several bets on Snot's stallion to be the first to throw anyone off."
"Well, in that case, there are going to be many boys mourning their losses once we return," Eret grinned. "Because Trample beat Chomp to that. Right on the first day, Daniel tried a jump over a tree trunk, and..." he made a bell-shaped motion with his hand to indicate the flight route. "It was spectacular."
Dagur looked as if he wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. "I can't believe I missed that," he finally whined.
Laughing, Eret clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll describe it all in detail later, all right?"
"All right," Dagur grinned back as Daniel gave an exasperated groan, and Astrid was sure he didn't see how Dagur winked – when Harold suddenly spoke up.
"Will the squires get new horses too?" the boy asked eagerly, causing them all to turn to him in surprise. "You know, to keep up? I doubt my father's old pony would do."
Astrid blinked in surprise, having almost forgotten that the boy was there. By all rights, he shouldn't have; he had no official standing within this group, and would not until he became Dagur's squire. They'd handled introductions, and decorum dictated that he should have returned to his father's party once those were handled and the talk had turned to personal topics. But even now, with four disapproving gazes of varying degree on him, he didn't waver. He only looked expectantly from one man to the other, and Astrid fought down the spark of exasperation. Harold didn't know any better.
"No, the remaining horses will be bought by interested noblemen, or will be returned to Eastervale in a few weeks," she explained calmly, her sense of fairness winning out over her irritation.
"Oh." Harold's face fell visibly.
Astrid kept a scowl from her face. Lord Ravenledge had not served his son well by neglecting his courtly training, no matter how much he romanticised the warrior ideal. Sighing, she wavered between irritation and sympathy, but decided on the later and added, "But maybe your new master can provide you with another horse. It surely would be in his interest for you to be able to keep up with him." She threw Dagur a wry smirk which he returned, clearly more amused than irked by her suggestion.
Daniel, however, gave her an astonished look, and even with knowing her brother quite well, it took her a few minutes of thinking before she could make rhyme or reason to it. But when it hit her, it sparked an idea in her mind, and she barely noticed how the men kept talking as she pondered.
Since the... incident last spring, this was the first time she'd openly and easily talked with a stranger upon their first meeting – at least as far as Daniel knew. Sure, directly after that day, she'd been too scared of any contact. But for months now, the distance she'd kept to every man was more or less solely because of Daniel's law and not because she was actually afraid.
But Daniel didn't know that. As far as he knew, she'd even been much more reserved toward Hiccup in the beginning. Daniel didn't know about the peaceful hours she and Hiccup had spent together at the stables on that first day, nor did he know about the secret meeting during Eret's accolade, the connection between them, or the intent and intense hours of the following day. All he knew was that it had apparently taken an entire day and Eret's assurance before she'd started to open up to Hiccup.
And here now was this boy, another squire of one of her brothers, one she was freely interacting with directly, and on their first meeting.
Slowly, a plan formed in her mind, one that, for once, made her feel hopeful. Maybe this was it, her chance to convince Daniel that his law was unneeded. If she showed how easily she could interact with this young man, then maybe Daniel would finally retract this law he'd made to keep her safe. All she had to do was treat Harold without any signs of fear or even reluctance. If she could just show Daniel that she wasn't intimidated by his presence, then he hopefully would see how unnecessary his law was. That she didn't need the protection it offered anymore.
In addition, if she showed no reluctance to interact with Harold, then Daniel would hopefully trust her judgement when she eventually told him about her feelings for Hiccup. Or, even if all that was too ambitious, she at least could divert attention from Hiccup when they interacted too familiar. So far, nobody had thought it suspicious how close friends she and Hiccup had become in only a few weeks. But then, there weren't all that many people who knew about that. Only Daniel and Eret knew, and maybe Tuff suspected something. But if she showed the same open friendliness to Dagur's squire then to Eret's...if she showed that she treated just everyone this friendly again, nobody would think is suspicious if they eventually saw her joking with Hiccup either. Or if Daniel noticed how she was more friendly to Hiccup, that wouldn't seem suspicious in comparison… right?
Right.
All she had to do was befriend Harold too.
Even if the boy was irritatingly annoying…
. o O o .
"Well, I've had enough training lately," Harold stated in a proud tone, waving his arms in a gesture that was eerily similar to Hiccup's gesticulations as the group stood around the high table; Harold had already plaintively asked where the "good and honest trestle tables" were, as opposed to the effete standing tables that they were using. Well, 'effete' wasn't the word he'd used – he'd said "impractical", but she'd gotten his opinion of them, loud and clear.
However, the talk of the lack of rigour and general weakness of the nobility – as seen by House Ravenledge's scions – had long since passed. The men's conversation had turned to fighting skills by now, and both Eret and Dagur had admitted that they would probably need to put in some refreshment training before the summer. But apparently, Harold was above such things.
"I won every tournament we held, just so you know," he bragged. "And I beat every opponent I duelled. Surely I don't need to attend any more fighting training, and definitely not with a group of inexperienced beginners." Snorting, Harold took a swallow of his beer and afterwards confidently looked around into the faces of Daniel and Dagur, seeking their approval.
Astrid fought to keep a smirk off her face. Judging by what the boy had claimed about his skills during the last half hour or so, he probably could walk through the mountain passes like a jotunn, defeat the scattered princes of the lands of Maladur single-handedly, unify them under his command, and bring the long-awaited peace all on his own. In his mind, at least.
If only things were that easy.
"Don't worry, Harold," Daniel replied with impressive patience. "You can show your bladework to the fighting masters later this week. They will assert your skills and help you to improve."
Harold seemed to think about this suggestion for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, that's acceptable, I think."
Astrid quietly snorted to herself. As if he had any choice on the matter… But to make her plan work, she had to actually interact with him, however annoying it might be. "I'm sure the fighting masters will rank you appropriately," she said with a friendly smile and only a small hint of sarcasm in her voice. Hiccup's sense of humour might have rubbed off on her. Eret gave her a dry look, but Harold seemed not to notice.
"I should think so, Milady," he instead replied with an approving smile. "And I can't wait to put my skills to use against the Malarian bastards either."
"Well, I should add that these skirmishes aren't just about fighting," Daniel commented now, changing the topic before Dagur and Eret couldn't keep themselves together anymore. They seemed to childishly enjoy how the boy made a fool of himself, and Astrid couldn't really blame them. Harold seemed to be utterly resistant to advise. "Most of the time, we'll be travelling, patrolling from one outpost to the other, go where we're needed. So, Harold, I hope your stamina in the saddle is just as good as your sword skills. You'll need it."
Harold affirmed that with the same boisterous enthusiasm he'd shown all night, and Astrid noticed how Eret quickly hid his grin behind his glass.
"Ah, don't scare him," Dagur said, maybe in an attempt to preserve some of his squire-to-be's dignity. "I mean, I know there luckily won't be fighting every day, but it won't take that long to travel from one outpost to the other."
Daniel grimaced, and pulled out his notebook. "Depends on what you consider to be 'long'. But it'll definitely take up a considerable amount of our time." He flipped through the pages of his book, then held up one that showed a sketched map of a part of the Western Mountain range. "One example, for my planned trip to Loki's Teeth next week, we'll spend over a week just getting there from Westhill." He traced a line from one spot on his map to another. "And that's not even taking into account travelling from one damaged outpost to another. Discouraging, if you consider that we only have three months to do all the necessary repairs before many men are needed for working the fields again."
At that, Dagur frowned. "Okay, I'm not really an expert for travelling over land," he stated, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as he inspected the sketch Daniel held up. "But I do know my maps. And I'm pretty sure the distance between Westhill and Loki's Teeth can be crossed in one day, two at the most, even if you're riding with a group. It's not that far, is it?"
Daniel snorted and shook his head. "No, on a map it's not that far. I think most maps even show something of a road connecting both places. But believe me, it will take us a week to reach that mountain and the outposts around it. Probably even longer when there's snow. Because there is no road, not anymore. The Malarians make sure of that wherever they get hold of some land. Destroying the roads, if possible in the middle of a clearing. There are usually narrow paths along the former road, but it would be foolish to use them."
"Because of ambushes?" Eret guessed and looked over Dagur's shoulder at the map.
Exactly," Daniel nodded. "Carefully leading our horses past a badly broken part of the road exposes us too much, especially when an enemy knows we'll have to slow down on that spot. So we use other paths instead, through the mountains or forests." He drew another imaginary line onto the paper with his finger, crossing what looked like no man's land. "The Malarians don't know about these paths, it's not their land. Travelling there is much safer, but also takes a lot longer." He sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as Eret and Dagur nodded understandingly.
Astrid stood to the side, idly playing with her glass, but only listened to their conversation about the struggles of warfare with half an ear. It was loud around them, the reception in full swing, and a part of her wanted nothing more than to leave. She was happy to see Dagur, but knew she would see plenty of him during the next weeks anyway. And tonight, her brothers would probably talk about nothing but their upcoming summer campaigning anyway. It was late enough by now so that it wouldn't be considered rude if she excused herself and retreated to her rooms for the night… But she decided against it nonetheless. Who knew whether or when she would get another chance like this.
Even if Harold wasn't making it easy to be friendly to him...
"Why don't you simply repair the roads?" he now asked, causing the men to turn to him with looks that were starting to show irritation instead of amusement.
"Because that would take even longer than slowly leading the horses past those spots," Astrid explained calmly before one of her brothers could scare him away after all. Warfare might not be her area of expertise, but in this case, even she could put two and two together. Just like in all the other cases where Harold had asked rather obvious questions before. She was trying to be patient, friendly, to treat him like she would treat Hiccup in a setting like this, but it was growing harder with every minute.
"So?" Harold asked, raising his eyebrows at her in a condescending manner. "Maybe it would take longer, but then the road could get used again. That would be better for everyone."
Anger sparked up in Astrid. He obviously thought her incompetent and simple-minded, and judging by other comments he'd made before, that was probably what he thought of every woman. But she wouldn't let his backward attitude spoil her plan.
Before Dagur could interfere on her behalf, she had her pleasant smile back in place and explained, "Those are still good places for ambushes. If the Malarians wait for a group of soldiers to stop where the road is broken, they won't care whether they want to repair the road or simply pass that spot. They will simply attack them either way."
"And it would be a waste of time and material anyway. They would simply destroy it at the next opportunity again, on that spot or another," Daniel added. "We'd never catch up. It's far easier to destroy than to build."
At that, Harold nodded thoughtfully as he apparently took Daniel's words far more seriously than hers. Astrid raised her wine to her lips to hide her irritation, emptying the glass with one last swallow. Her and Hiccup's first meeting came to her mind, how he hadn't hesitated to show her how to groom a horse, something that was, by custom, men's work. How he'd treated her like an equal and had respected her. Harold was nothing like that...
"Why don't you let the residents repair the road then?" the boy asked suddenly, obviously after some thinking on the matter, as Daniel, Eret, and Dagur were already talking about something else.
"How would that be different?" Astrid asked, puzzled and struggling to focus on him again. Even as her mind kept conjuring up pictures of Hiccup instead. "The Malarians wouldn't hesitate to attack civilians either."
Harold gave her a patronising half-smile. "Because they are just that. Civilians. Peasants. If they can't fight for our grand kingdom, they at least can contribute in another way. We risk our lives to defend their land; I think it's only fair if they do the same so we can defend them. I mean, it's not like they do a good job at providing food or anything else for the Kingdom. Supporting our troops is the least they should do."
There was a moment of stunned silence as four people gaped at the boy.
"I assume this wasn't meant to be serious," Daniel pressed through gritted teeth. "The people in and around Westhill have given enough during the last few decades to earn all the support we can give them. Yes, their farms aren't as productive as those around Southshore and the mines can hardly be worked at all. But do you think that's because these people are lazy?" It wasn't really a question, and Harold only reacted with a dismissive shrug before Daniel went on. "Besides, there are barely any able men left to do hard labour like that. Most have already joined with the levies to fight back the invaders and defend their land."
At that, there was suddenly a highly unpleasant smirk on the boy's face. "Then I hope the remaining women value the presence of all those soldiers defending them, and support them in… other ways," he half-laughed, then gave Astrid a wink.
Bile rose in her throat, and she cast her eyes to the ground so as to not show any emotions. Was he serious? Was he actually suggesting that those poor women, who feared or mourned for their fathers, husbands, sons, or brothers, should break Frigga's and Freya's sacred rules and invite strangers into their beds, in addition to all of the other burdens they had to bear? The thought was infuriating! But judging by Harold's cool smirk he'd meant exactly that.
Initially, she'd been reluctant to being exaggeratedly friendly toward Harold. As annoying as he was, he didn't deserve to be used. But that primary reluctance had faded by now, her last concerns wiped away by Harold's own comment. She could never befriend someone with such an attitude. But then, she didn't need to, not really. All she had to do to prove her point was being friendly like she would be to everyone else anyway.
Taking a deep breath, Astrid actively reminded herself why she was doing this.
For Hiccup. She was doing this for Hiccup, so that he would be safe in the future.
Seemingly casually, she lifted her hand to brush over that spot on her chest where she could feel his presence. She thought of his excitable smile when he talked about one of his inventions with Daniel, of his peaceful expression when he helped Eret with the horses, and of that fluttering heat he was able to elicit in her belly with little more than one intense look.
Yes, she was doing this for him. For his sake, this plan had to work, and she would do whatever was necessary to convince Daniel. She just needed to pull through this. Aiming to calm her nerves, she lifted her glass to take another sip of her wine – but then remembered that it was empty already.
"I'll get myself another glass of wine," she murmured into the cold silence that had followed Harold's comment. How backward had his upbringing been that he made comments that even Eret the Elder would struggle to approve of? She really hoped she wouldn't need to spend too much time with Harold, that he would stay with the other squires and not accompany them all the time like Hiccup did. Or at least that Daniel, Dagur, and the other squires in his group would soon be able to get some manners and sense into that boy.
Daniel, his face dangerously calm, gave her a small nod to sign that he'd heard her, and with a sigh, she turned to leave. Before she'd made even one step away though, a hand was around her upper arm, holding her back. Rough fingers dug into her, almost painfully, and with a desperate little whimper, she froze as her mind conjured up a flood of memories – painful, agonizing memories.
. o O o .
So... Harold... before you comment, yes, I know that's Hiccup's name in the French version. That was kinda on purpose... A new OC...to bring in some chaos? We'll see... :|
Any thoughts about him?