Hiccup had made a rule for his household that no fighting was allowed. The rule didn't exist before their second was born, and even after that by a couple years but as they grew, the boys argued over little things that caused them to feel the need to physically settle the disagreements. It wasn't always like that though; they'd get along but brothers would be brothers so now whoever started a fight would be sent to their room. Physical tussles were avoided for the most part but often the shouting between the Haddock sons grew to near unbearable proportions.
"You're just a little Whelp!"
"AM NOT YOU BROOMSTICK!"
"You have bad freckles!"
"Your hair is funny!"
"You can't fall asleep without a candle lit because you are afraid of the dark."
"Well you're afraid of a girl!"
Astrid looked up sharply to see her eldest's reaction. Svenan's face twisted into pure offense at Icky's claim. He would deny it, this she knew. She also knew the truth and she couldn't blame him—the girl in question, Frostbite, could be a little terror and seemed to be charmed with Svenan the Younger even at nearly six-years-old. She followed him when he played outside and often did mean things with the intention to impress him.
"I AM NOT AFRAID OF GIRLS!" Svenan bellowed
"Enough!" Astrid shouted causing her sons to back away from their threatening proximity toward each other. If they weren't afraid of girls they were definitely fearful of an angry woman and would learn over time those were the most fearful things to behold.
"He ate my breakfast!" Icky whined.
"He wasn't eating it fast enough," was Svenan's rebuttal, but it was a weak argument and it had happened a few hours ago, so why were they just now arguing about it?
They looked to her to sort their troubles but she was having a difficult enough time concentrating on repairing the holes in their tunics. She wasn't the best seamstress and though Ruffnut always accused her of being a perfect mother and wife, Astrid was far from that title.
She just wished they would take a nap or something and leave her in peace. They had done their assigned chores—both being incredibly fast and eager to get them done, but now were left with nothing to do besides finding entertainment in baiting each other for arguing.
Icky usually went down in the afternoon but it was only mid-morning. Svenan was eight-years-old and hardly napped at all anymore. She would let him run outside with his friends and that was how his energy was dispersed enough for some quiet in the evenings.
"Don't look at me, you must settle this yourselves."
They gave each other a look, then to her-suspicious as though she was tricking them. Icky reminded her, "But Daddy says we're not allowed to fight."
Hiccup was good in his intentions to not have them fight but he had been an only child and didn't know how bothersome it was to be pestered or annoyed by a sibling, and how incredibly tempting it was to antagonize one another. Astrid had often fought with her brother when she was younger.
"You're going to have to today. Defend the honor of your porridge my baby boy."
Icky nodded and punched Svenan in the arm.
"Hey!" Svenan shouted and rubbed it, then shoved his brother to the ground easily.
Icky began to cry.
"Don't cry, teach him a lesson," Astrid instructed, not willing to coddle the boy. She believed that if they were going to argue, they would have to fight. If not between them, someday another. This would prepare them for that first punch thrown.
Icky tearfully lunged at Svenan and bit him.
"OW!" Svenan kicked him away just as a person swatted a bothersome fly.
They began to wrestle around the room. Astrid went back to mending. A Viking could not lose the fight they were born to have in them, this exercise was useful in having them practice it and also from it she would gain what she had wanted.
Through their grunts and their shouts, they managed to punch, push, pull, and pin each other until about late morning when they had exhausted themselves and were sprawled on the floor in tire.
The door opened and in stepped the Chief, who took a look to the pile of his boys in the middle of the room. Toothless pushed through from behind and circled them, licking the offspring encouragingly to motivate them to rouse.
"Hi Daddy!" Icky lifted his head, and everyone could see the start of a bruised eye.
"What happened?" Hiccup seemed concerned and bewildered all at once.
"Svenan hit me!"
"Mom said I could!" Svenan retorted and not without a blameful pointing of a finger. All eyes landed on Astrid.
"They were arguing. I told them they could fight out their differences," she said nonchalantly and ignored the darkening of Hiccup's expression.
"Boys, go to your room," he ordered, his voice had grown cool. It was a rare tone, rare enough that his sons scrambled up knowing to obey when his voice hit that low. They all knew he disliked it when people settled their differences physically.
Toothless ambled outside, seeming bored now that the younglings were sent away. The dragon had grown fond of the boys, sometimes preferring to stay and play with them than accompany Hiccup some days.
Astrid continued to mend the tunics, pushing the fishbone needle through the mat erial and fixing the tears gradually.
"Astrid…" she heard her name. The tone wasn't one of pleasantry. She had let their sons break a firm rule.
"What?"
"You know I don't like to have them fight, so why in the world would you encourage it?"
"They need to learn, Hiccup—"
"NO Astrid, they don't," he brought his hand down to the arm of the chair she was sitting on and leaned in close—insistently, almost threatening if they both didn't know she could hand him his rear faster than he could blink.
She closed her mouth into a pressed frown and raised her brows, not appreciative of his interruption.
"I'm trying every day to avoid unnecessary conflict, I've been making allies and appeasing old enemies and all without shedding blood or bruising an eye. To let them fight is undoing everything I have been working towards. Do you not understand that violence can be avoided?"
"Do you not understand that not everyone wants to avoid it? That some beings would rather kill first and ask questions later. What if one of our sons comes upon that? They would be slain before they knew what to do. What if their demise was due to you suppressing their instincts?"
Hiccup's frown lifted at her subtle accusation.
"I understand more than you know, but some skills should always be taught," she picked up her stitchery and glared at him, "Maybe you're the one who needs to understand."
He backed away, must have seeing she wanted let up from her spot and was seconds from removing him herself.
"I see your point but I do not want them fighting each other—they are brothers, not enemies."
She bit her bottom lip, the stubborn part of her fighting with the logic. "Fine I will not let them fight one another again."
"What were they even fighting over?"
"Porridge, I suppose."
"Gods, that is ridiculous."
"Children are allowed to be ridiculous."
"Not anymore, at least not Svenan."
She turned and considered him, "What do you mean by that?"
"I secured an apprenticeship for him."
This was news to Astrid, she wasn't even aware Hiccup had considered an apprenticeship for their son let alone had made the decision without her.
"And when were planning to tell me this?" She felt a tiny prick of something—it wasn't a good feeling.
"I'm telling you...now," He gave her a bemused look, the kind where he was silently wondering what he had done to make her so displeased. He could be so unassumingly daft for being brilliant half the time.
She gave a frustrated sigh, and rubbed her head deciding not to argue, "Well, what is he to apprentice in? Obviously not smithing or else you or Gobber—Gods forbid in his old age would be the master—and Rune isn't fit to—"
"Svenan has always liked building, I asked one of the shipbuilders to take him on."
Astrid could at least agree on that, thinking of all the times Svenan stacked household items until they fell. She looked to Hiccup, realizing she hadn't felt prickled before he had arrived. "Why are you back so early?"
"What?"
"You are usually forging until sundown."
"I came to tell you about the apprenticeship...I thought you'd want to know."
"Yet you didn't even consider telling me you were going to do it in the first place."
"It's my decision either way."
She bit her tongue from calling him a name or saying something displeasing. True, the future of a child was determined by the family patriarch but Hiccup had always been so good at seeking her opinion in the past. What had changed?
She gave him a punch to the arm instead. He wasn't expecting it as she had halted that juvenile act years ago but she made sure it stung and didn't even follow up with a kiss.
"You have work to do," She stated and turned on him.
She saw him hesitate out of the corner of her eye before silently wilting and taking leave.
The feeling materialized into a recognizable one. A balance of anger and sadness. Where was the overwhelming happiness she had felt from being with him? She heard the door up the stairs crack open and two heads popped into view from above.
"Were you and Daddy fighting 'cause was fighting?" Icky asked earnestly.
"Because we won't do it again!" Svenan promised.
"Never you mind about it. Go out and play—just make sure you don't get underfoot and no more fighting."
They answered in a torrent of promises they'd behave and scampered down the stairs and to the outdoors. She knew they liked climbing the trees and playing 'look out' where they would see ships in the far distance and make up stories about them. It was a good clear day for that game.
She sat once again but didn't pick the tunics up to finish them. She stared at the mural on the wall, trying to recall that wonderful feeling she had when she first saw it. The drawing of her and Hiccup were holding hands—and she knew that was the image their sons would always want. Any time they heard their parents fight, it severed the image thread by thread. The truth was, Astrid wanted that image to last forever too.
She was too frustrated to concentrate on stitching so went to her room and grabbed her axe off the wall to let of some built up steam in the forest.
Her aim had been better before, and she was rather distracted because though she felt this passing fury at her husband for making decisions without her—it hadn't been a bad or unreasonable one, she was just angry she was not included in the thought of it. Svenan was their son, not just Hiccup's even though what he decided was final.
She pulled the axe over her shoulder and looked at the splintered wood of the tree trunk she had been launching it at. It was about as maimed as a ham at a seasons feast.
She made her way back to the lodge and returned her axe to its place, figuring she had wasted enough time already—but she needed it. She couldn't let all her husband's discrepancies build up in her. It would poison her.
A pair of hands fell over her eyes and pressed tightly to her face.
"Augh! What's going on?" she demanded tugging them but they didn't budge. She cursed her lack of perception from being so unfocused.
She heard a calming 'shhh.'
It was her husband. He was already trying her patience that day and this stunt wasn't helping.
"Come with me," he said, still hushed—a tone of persistence in his voice. She moved based upon his guidance, he led by turning her head in the desired direction. She felt the kiss of summer's sun upon her face and knew he had led them out of the house.
"What is it?" she asked sharply. He always had business to attend to, what was he doing with her when he should be at the forge or advising villagers?
He lifted his hands and she blinked at the change of light from the dark of his hands, finally making out the black mass that was Night Fury before them. He gave a purr of greeting.
"Fly with me, Astrid."
She actually hadn't flown with him in years. If she flew she saddled up her Nadder, Toothless was always meant to carry the Chief.
Her Nadder was lounging on the roof, sun-bathing the last she saw but looking there now, it had flown off. If the Nadder saw her fly on Toothless, she would get perturbed and jealous.
Flying did sound lovely, and the day was nice but they couldn't just fly off together like they could in their youth—that was what they had given up in becoming responsible adults. Besides, she was still displeased with him and was apprehensive to accept his request.
"I can't, the boys—"
He reached around and put a finger to her lips, "It's taken care of."
She pushed it away, "but—" his finger only returned, adamant on keeping her quiet.
"I said, it's taken care of—now please, just say you'll come with me," he moved around her and mounted the saddle strapped to Toothless's shoulders, holding his hand out to her.
She pursed her lips but indulged him, proving she was the best wife he could have ever have obtained in a lifetime. She didn't take his hand though, only pushed it away and took a position behind him—maintaining the appearance to barely accept the invitation.
"Come on Bud," Hiccup leaned forward and prompted Toothless and the dragon launched from the ground at his un-earthly speed and into the sky. Astrid couldn't help but to latch onto Hiccup to anchor herself—recalling the first time she ever had to do it when the Night Fury had seemed bent on killing her. Years ago that was, she was surprised she hadn't forgotten those little twists and feelings she had felt in those moments entirely. Then again, how could anyone forget a ride like that?
Toothless leveled off in flight, calming her heart. The sun was even more brilliant as they penetrated the first layer of clouds, beams of light cascaded through the openings of the next cluster above. Her grip loosened on him and she enjoyed the warm air that breezed past her face.
She had to wonder what Hiccup was up to with this flight? He wasn't completely clueless—he knew when she was annoyed—then again she never made it less than obvious. Was this to soften her anger towards him?
They glided silently through the hazy summer air and Astrid had to shield her eyes because at some points the brightness was too much to look at.
"So what did you do with our boys?"
"They're fine, they're in your father's pasture with the sheep."
"They do love those sheep."
Some days, her father would let the boys shepherd the sheep, and they loved trying to get the flock from pasture to barn by shouting and in Svenan's case, whistling. Hiccup had taught Svenan how to blow out whistles but Icky didn't have the knack for it—the poor boy would try but end up spitting at everyone.
"Astrid?"
"What?"
"About the decision I made—I just want you to know that I—I always think about you when I make a choice. You're in my head always."
She listened wordlessly; it was refreshing to have the privilege to see him with all his outer-confidence shed and to be as vulnerable as he was when they were teens, to see the boy within the man that she had fallen for in every unsure syllable spoken—seeking approval. It was sweet what he was trying to say, to explain—though she would have liked to hear him apologize for not including her.
Finally she answered, "And you know all I approve of and not?"
"I'd like to think so…" she could feel him sigh, "…because Gods Astrid—we've been married nearly ten years and if I don't know by now, I'd have to be a terrible husband."
Astrid didn't count the years as they passed; she let time move by without worry—but nearly ten years? Had it really been so long since they had started a life together?
Her arms found their way around him. She nestled her face into the space between his shoulder blades, feeling better already knowing she had infected him to constantly be considered in everyday tasks. "You're not a terrible husband, I just wish you would let me know when you're thinking of doing things that affect us and the boys. If you know me, then you know I dislike surprises and I was surprised today by what you said."
There was a moment of silence.
"I'm sorry."
That was all she wanted to hear.
She gave a kiss to his jaw from the angle that she was at behind him. She felt him relax against her, because he had been so tense the whole flight upward. She knew he had a lot on his shoulders—he was stressed more than usual. Snotlout was abroad still to negotiate with the Celts, Calvin's murder was still no less mysterious and there was pressure on Hiccup to make everything safe and right within the village. She felt somewhat guilty at knowing she didn't help his stress by being mad at him, but she couldn't just sit around and hide her emotions when she was upset by him.
But she was still curious to why he had asked her to fly.
"So why didn't you just say this before? Why do we have to be flying for you to tell me?"
"I'm being a very irresponsible Chief right now by whisking you to the clouds," she could hear him say through a grin, "but it's worth it to not have you mad at me."
It was pathetic but that admission melted her heart, but it wasn't an answer. He knew it.
"and I was just thinking…I never properly courted you."
"What?"
"I never woo'd you. I mean, it was just so fast that I think I denied you a good romance, so I hope this makes up for it a little if at all."
She rolled her eyes, "Please, one night in the shed was enough 'woo'-ing for me."
She knew his cheeks had caught a tinge of crimson despite the many years they had been together. She didn't care if he felt embarrassed, she couldn't and wouldn't take any of it back or wish it different. If she would have never felt the hurt of losing him, she couldn't have appreciated him as much.
The rest of the flight was relaxing, calm and just felt wonderful as she and Hiccup took comfort in having a few moments of being together, uninterrupted by duty or children, and even Toothless kept politely silent—while soaring forward and taking them further through the sky.
She rested her chin on Hiccup's shoulder and enjoyed serene the view of the clouds—the amassing puffy columns that were accented gold by the sunlight. She was the first girl ever to touch the clouds, and it was all thanks to the man in front of her as well as the dragon beneath. She gave him a content squeeze of appreciation while reaching down and letting her hand set on Toothless's lower neck. He must have known he was just as appreciated.
The universe around her seemed to let out a sigh as she was filled with all the happiness of which she was wondering the whereabouts of earlier. It was there, had always been there but was easily bullied by her darker emotions into the corners of her mind.
She heard the small clicking shifts of the foot pedal, signaling the tail fin was adjusting, and most likely for a descent. How sad it was to end, but she had to remind herself it was impractical for anything to last forever. She would have to love and be content with what she had at present.
And she was satisfied.
A/N: Eck, sorry for those previous two depressing chapters, this was a little lighter but as we finish up the story we're getting into the less light-hearted and more dramatic aspects of the lives of the characters, thanks for bearing with me. Up next: FINALE.