Ruffnut was up to something and Fishlegs could not put his finger on any particular detail of the broad scope of things were different. Part of him kept insisting that he should be terrified, at least investigating this situation, but things seemed to be mostly good and he did like good. Even if that good was accompanied by something legitimately strange. One day Ruff was the same old Ruff and the next day she was completely off her rocker and different. But Fishlegs was pretty sure he liked it. How could he not like it when a girl like her was veritably happy to see him? How could he not like it when she was jumping on him with kisses and pulling and pushing him down to the bed or floor or wherever? Yes, that was definitely likable, and she was quite into it.
He still didn't get why. His two major theories were that she was trying to get pregnant again or had just snapped, plain and simple. The latter theory would at least explain the housekeeping. It wasn't like she had ever been grossly untidy, but the state of the house had never seemed to be the first thing on her mind. Now dust was banned from the house, the bed perfectly made with pillows fluffed (though those qualities never seemed to last long), and Ruff had spent one full day carving a broom. A really nice broom. She threw herself into knitting and sewing like they were people to be beat up and yelled at him if he touched anything that wasn't quite finished.
It wasn't bad at all. At least, Fishlegs couldn't think of anything about which to complain. But it was not normal. Had she developed a different type of crazy or was this simply the Ruffnut that had always been behind the violent one who beat up and made fun of people and climbed freakishly high trees? And why did she seem so happy when he was around?
One snowy evening he entered the house to be hit by the strangest combination of smells ranging from the poisonous scent of charred something to something in the range of actually delicious. Even with the acrid stench mixed in it was all in all a pleasant sensation, cozy even. Though perhaps anything seemed cozy after walking through the blizzard that had just struck the island. Fishlegs threw his snow-covered coat into the pile Ruffnut now suddenly insisted on keeping neat and took in the sight of the house.
What appeared to be different themes on some little cake was everywhere. Black coal-like things dotted the floor to be sniffed and licked by the kitten, but the table was covered with versions that looked and smelled more appetizing. Tuffnut sat there, stuffing one into his face with no sign of sickness but rather enjoyment. Ruffnut knelt next to the fire with a pan holding a cake that looked just near perfect. Fishlegs found himself suddenly hungry.
Ruffnut looked at him with a big smile, flipped the cake onto the table with the others, and ran over to Fishlegs to throw her arms around his neck—an action that always made his heart and stomach flip. "I thought you became a human snowman out there!"
"It's just a Berk storm," he replied nervously after she kissed him—he was never going to get used to that, as awesome as it was. And the awesomeness did seem a little weird with Tuffnut in the house. Fishlegs carefully pushed Ruff away. "What… what have you been doing?"
"Baking!" she said with a grin that could only be described as evil. "And I think I got it. It took me all day, but I think the past couple of hours made for a breakthrough. At least that idiot over there thinks so." She gestured at Tuff, who was happily helping himself to another cake.
"It's actually good," he said with a full mouth.
Well, it certainly did not look like Tuff had been force-fed. At least the later versions. "What is it?" Fishlegs asked.
"It was supposed to be bread in the beginning," Ruff replied as she took his hand and pulled him over to the table where she handed him a cake. "But then I started experimenting and throwing things together and I think I made something really cool!"
Fishlegs had dealt too much with Ruff's cooking, but it did smell really good, so he didn't hesitate long before he took a bite. It wasn't bad at all. He nodded his approval as he chewed, and Ruff looked happier than he had ever seen her. "Did you write down what you did?"
"Of course I did. I'm not stupid." She pointed to the wall, where runes had been carved, scratched out, and carved again into the wood. "I'm keeping this recipe!"
"It's still not quite as good as Tantrum's stuff, though," Tuff said after swallowing a particularly large mouthful. "She's really, really good."
Ruff's grin flipped into a frown, and she banged the pan that was probably still hot against Ruff's head.
"Ouch!"
"I don't care what Tantrum bakes like," Ruff said. "If she's not baking for you anymore, you'll obviously have to come to me."
Tuff nodded and rubbed his head.
Ruff smiled again and let the pan drop to the floor. "So what do you think?"
Fishlegs finished the last bite of the cake and brushed away the crumbs. "It was good."
"Really?"
It was truthfully good and he didn't want to be hit with the pan. "Really. But why would you spend the whole day baking?"
She shrugged. "Because it's fun and I figured you'd be hungry. And I didn't just bake. I swept and dusted and alphabetized your books and tried to make a cloak but I think it's just going to be a blanket." She looked up at him expectantly.
Very weird. "Um, thanks. You didn't have to do all of that, too."
"I felt like it." She began arranging the cakes into a pile.
Ruff was infamous for doing whatever she felt like, but Fishlegs still couldn't wrap his head around those choices. "Why?"
The smile remained just as strong, though it was mixed with the familiar "you're such an idiot" gaze. "Why do you think? Isn't it pretty obvious?"
"Uh…" Fishlegs had missed something.
She sighed and scooped up a bunch of the cakes, which she then dumped into Tuff's lap. "These are for you. Hopefully they can make up for the lack of Tantrum's apparently-so-much-better treats. Now leave."
Tuffnut nodded, stuck one into his mouth, and stood up with a muffled "Thanks."
Ruff shook her head after he had disappeared into the swirling vortex of the blizzard. "Apparently Tantrum stopped bringing him things. He's so confused. Like more confused than usual. So I used him to taste test."
That would suck. "Oh." Then Fishlegs remembered he was confused, too. He sat down where Tuff had just been sitting and poked at a cake. "So what's supposed to be obvious?"
She laughed and leaned against the table. "For someone so smart, you really are dense."
Was he supposed to laugh as well? All he knew was that Ruff had a pretty smile and she had baked something rather tasty and was looking at him like she usually did before she shoved him to the floor. Really good, but weird.
She laughed again, then cleared her throat. "Fishlegs, I love you."
He fell out of the chair. That had been the last thing he had expected to hear from her. She was crazy. Completely crazy like one of those people that wandered around the village muttering things about trolls under the breaths.
"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping forward.
If she came too close he was pretty sure she would just jump on him and they would wind up doing what they had been doing lately and he was not in a state to wrap his mind around that. He quickly stood up and stepped away from her. "I'm fine."
"Okay." She paused, still smiling. "Did you hear what I said?"
He had heard her say something but apparently he had gotten it wrong. He shook his head.
"I love you," she repeated. Her hands were clasped together in front of her and she looked more serious than he had ever seen her.
Odin help him. He had been afraid that was what she had said. He stared at her.
"That's why I did all this stuff," she continued. "I thought you'd like it and it would seem more like a home rather than the two of us just hanging out here and aren't you going to say anything?"
Say anything? He was still waiting for his brain to click into gear, and it was being very slow about that. That was okay. One thing at a time. She had just told him she loved him. Okay. He could process that. No. No, he could not, because that idea just sent him into a wave of panic and horror like he had never felt. She loved him? What was that supposed to mean? So that was the explanation for the kissing and lovemaking and the baking? So she wasn't crazy? Or was she crazy and just saying things?
Her smile was fading with every passing second that he stood staring at her.
She was waiting for him to say something. He was supposed to say something. Odin, Thor, and Freyr, what was he supposed to say to a line like that? "Are you sure?"
She blinked, apparently startled by that response. " Yeah, I'm sure! I don't just say something like that on a lark! Anything else you want to say?"
That hadn't been good enough. He was sweating. He felt sick. He forced his mind to think. She didn't just like him. She was in love with him. Obviously she had liked him or else she wouldn't come near him. And him? Well, of course he liked her! She hadn't done that much against him. She was interesting and looked nice. He was used to having her around. She was fun to talk to. He really liked kissing her, sleeping with her. He was pretty happy being her husband and all that the position entailed. They did everything they were supposed to do and they both seemed to enjoy it. Yeah, he liked her.
And then she had to go and say something like that.
He took a deep breath. He had no idea what to say.
But Ruff's smile was completely gone by then. "So? Do you love me?"
So that's what she wanted him to say? Oh, gods. Okay, he liked her. A lot. But he had never, ever thought about being in love with someone and now it was all being thrown at him in one big blast. He had no idea what to do, what to say, how to respond. Slowly, he shook his head.
Ruff stared at him for a long, long time during which he tried to decide his next course of action and figure out what he had just done.
"Oh," she finally said softly.
"You're great," he said quickly. "You're awesome. I like being with you and—"
He closed his eyes and ducked as the chair he had been sitting in just a short time before sailed over him and into the wall. He opened his eyes to see her, chest heaving and eyes wet. "Ruff!"
"Stand up straight so I can aim!" she shrieked, grabbing the other chair. Her strength was impressive. It came too fast to dodge and wound up getting him in the stomach. "Much better!"
Fishlegs tried to catch his breath, but the blow had been something. Really something. She was good. He stuck the chair back under the table and prayed she wouldn't grab for it.
But instead she was going for the cakes, the ones she had spent so much of the day making. They were no longer for food. They were weapons, thrown at an astonishing speed against him, the wall, and the floor. Everywhere.
"Apparently there was no point in wasting time on these!" Her face was bright red as she screamed. "They were for you. Apparently you don't care, but take them anyway. The whole village can see how much you like to eat, so just take them! I don't care!"
The burnt ones from the floor had a much harder impact. Fishlegs moved quickly to the wall of weapons to grab a shield, muttering "she's insane she's insane she's insane" to himself. What had he just done? He grabbed the biggest shield and held it up to his face. He couldn't help but cringe as a few rock-hard cakes banged against it and his legs.
"A shield. How brave." Ruff's voice was pure nastiness. "Why don't you grab a sword? That gross death one you pulled out of a grave? Is that how you treat girls? Your wife?"
If that was how she treated her husband then maybe he should, he thought furiously. Though even as he thought he knew he would never bring himself to hurt her.
"No, wait," she said as another cake hit the wall behind him. "I got a better idea. Why don't you just go berserk and tear me to pieces? I bet you'd like that!"
If she only knew that he was already feeling shaky and hot. But she had gone way too far with that. "Take that back," he growled.
She didn't seem to have heard him. "Because it would sure feel better than this!"
He flung the shield aside and took another rock-cake to the stomach. She couldn't even throw the good ones. He locked eyes with her, and she froze. "Have you ever thought maybe you are completely crazy?" It was the loudest he had ever raised his voice outside of battle. Then he marched to the door and threw it open.
"I take it back!" Ruff screamed. "I hate you!"
He slammed the door.
The first thing that struck him was that the night was freezing and he had not grabbed a coat. Not that he was going back in there. The snow poured from the sky like it had been dumped, and that on the ground was past his knees. Tuff's footsteps were already fading under the newer snowfall. Fishlegs stared at them and wondered if he should go get him to deal with his sister. No, no one in his right mind would come out in this.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His heart rate was a buzz, and beneath his freezing skin his blood was boiling. Maybe he should look at the lovely peaceful sight of Berk in the snow with that inky black sea absorbing the thick flakes, all the houses with their windows lit. All those people inside having a nice night with their families. It was sickening.
He released the breath, watching it turn to steam in the air even though it was so cold he could already feel mucus freezing. Maybe he should go up to the caves where the dragons were hibernating. He liked dragons. He had no idea if they liked him. Apparently he didn't know what anyone thought of him.
Ruff. For crying out loud, she had said she was in love with him and then expected him to… what? Right now the thought of her made him crazy. He couldn't even like her.
He tromped through the snow to the back of the house to the woodpile. Somehow he managed to find the axe. Amazing it had even returned to the house after Ruffnut had lost it up in the woods weeks ago. It was like ice to the touch, but he didn't care. He swung it into the wood yet to be buried in the snow and down to the logs that were covered. Nothing like a good sharp axe and the feel of doing something useful. He didn't stop until he was completely numb and could no longer work the axe. Staying outside was not going to be an option. Great. He picked up an armload of wood and returned to the front of the house.
There, he stared at the door. Ruffnut was inside. Maybe he should go somewhere else. Like where? This was his house. He had helped build it. He had as much right to be in there as Ruff did. And maybe she had calmed down.
After all, he had not said he had hated her but that he did like her. Things had been going so well before this.
He grabbed the handle and pushed.
She had locked the door.
Oh, fantastic. She said she loved him and then decided to leave him out here to freeze to death. "Ruff!" he called. "Open the door!"
There was no response.
He sighed. "Please open the door!"
"Make me!" came her voice.
He swallowed back a scream then threw all of body weight and muscle against the door. There was a snap as the bolt broke, but the door only opened a fraction as it against something else.
A barricade.
It was probably just the table. Fishlegs sucked in another breath and rammed against the door again. This time he managed to shove the table away from the door enough to get in, which was pretty far. The table was piled high with his books. He dumped the wood onto the floor and pushed the snow from his arms an The heat from the fire felt amazing.
But Ruffnut stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her eyes were red with tears and she wore an expression that suggested she wanted nothing more than to kill him.
"Go away," she whispered.
"I live here, too," he said.
"I don't want you here."
The kitten hissed at him. She had turned the kitten against him.
"Too bad," he said. "It's freezing out there. There's a blizzard."
"Freeze to death, for all I care." She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
He hated her with tears. It was the worst thing ever. "Ruff—"
"Shut up!" She stomped across the room to her loom and kicked it.
He instinctively grabbed a book from the table. Books were always comforting. "I'm just going to be over there." He pointed to the corner furthest from her.
She didn't respond.
Fishlegs quickly made his way over to the corner and sat down and opened the book. Maybe if it looked like he was reading Ruffnut wouldn't know he was thinking.
How had this happened? He bad been nice to her, taken care of her, talked to her. He had done everything he was supposed to do. It wasn't his fault she had gone and fallen in love him, though this looked nothing like Astrid and Hiccup. Couldn't she have just been happy with how things had been going?
Crazy. So she loved him.
He still couldn't process it.
He couldn't focus on the book even for pretend. He had no idea what it was about. Finally he just tossed it aside, then closed his eyes to fake sleep.
Ruffnut was crying. Very softly, like she didn't want him to hear, but she just wasn't that soft.
It was the worst sound in the world.
Well, he had tried talking to her. That had just made her mad. He didn't know what to do but keep pretending he was asleep.