Rain poured down over the grey ocean. The intrepid crew of the Hopeful Puffin made their painstaking way back to Berk.
"This really...looked a lot easier," Azula's piping voice rang out, muffled as it was by the rain. She had the oar, and was clearly struggling with it.
"Y-yeah well. W-we only h-have one oar," Hiccup said. He was curled in a ball in the back of the boat, shivering. He didn't have firebending to warm himself up. In fact, he felt like he was going to die. "S-sorry about that."
Berk was close.
"Y-you'd be a good friend if you weren't so mean to people."
Azula looked back from her task. "I'm not mean. I'm just an outsider. They treat me like a joke."
"Well, at least we have that in common," Hiccup drawled, pulling his coat closer to himself. He grinned. "I guess you could say...we're in the same boat?"
He looked up at her, as if saying "eh?"
Hiccup's sailing companion looked back at him, eyebrows raised. "Are you serious?"
OOO: One day, a warm fire, and many hot drinks later...
Thank the gods that hellish sailing lesson is over, Hiccup thought to himself, snuggling under his warm, comfortable blankets. It's so much warmer and more comfortable in here. Warm, toasty, and smokey. Like a fire...
Wait, smokey? Hiccup suddenly realized that this warmth was a little too intense.
Snapping awake, Hiccup hurriedly rolled out of bed. Unfortunately his blankets were still wrapped around him, so they tangled around his legs and sent him to the floor in an ungainly sprawl. But it wasn't all bad. From there he could see that there was a fire under his bed. Yep, an actual fire, with flames and everything. Under his bed.
Actually, that was pretty bad too.
"FIRE!"
Twisting around in un-vickingly panic, Hiccup resorted to whacking the fire with his blankets like a madman, beating the poor thing to death. It was only a smouldering pile of sticks and leaves, but he took no chances. He whacked and whacked until it was fully dead. Strangely enough though, no-one responded to all the noise he was making.
Finally, the fire was out. But that just left Hiccup awake in the grey hours of the morning, covered in soot and rolling around on the floor. He struggled to his feet. What a waste of a perfectly good morning...the young viking picked up a half-burned leaf and looked at it with bleary eyes.
How had this even happened?
"I have no idea," Azula said, leaning forward at him from across the dinner table, Innocence™ written all over her face.
Hiccup had stomped downstairs, fully intending to wake her up and wring some answers out of her. But instead, he'd found her fully composed, sitting in a chair at the empty dinner table like she'd been waiting for him. She'd done her hair up in her metal fire hair-thingy, she was dressed nicely–she'd even lit all the candles and placed them all on the table, like this was some shady cult meeting.
This was weird.
"But you're up, so that's convenient," she finished.
Hiccup really didn't know how to react to this. "Convenient, eh?"
"Yes. Sit," Azula replied. She gestured to a chair. "Unless you'd prefer to stand. We need to talk."
He meekly scooted out a chair and sat down. "We do?"
"Yes," Azula said. She folded her hands beneath her nose, resting both elbows on the table. "I've taken the liberty of listening in to some of the opinions around town. The general sentiment is–"
"Wha-when did you do this?" Hiccup said, leaning back in his seat. When had she had the time to be doing that? After they'd got back from being at sea, everything had been a blur. All he could really remember was being wrapped in a blanket and thrown extremely close to a fire to warm up. But apparently Azula had been making...better use of her time.
Azula herself looked exasperated. "Yesterday. People talk, Hiccup. Especially when two children stumble in half-dead from the ocean. Anyway, as I was saying...from what I've gathered, people have started to...associate us."
Hiccup looked confused. "What?" He wasn't really sure he knew what she was talking about, but he had a sinking feeling already.
"I've become 'that strange girl that hangs around the Chief's son," Azula looked to the side. "It's an upgrade, I suppose. But it's problematic."
"Problematic how?"
"You're lame," Azula replied bluntly.
Hiccup scrunched down in his seat. "Well thank you for summing that up." He couldn't entirely hide the hurt in his voice.
Azula rolled her eyes. "Don't be like that. You're honestly the best person for me to be associated with in the long run anyway." She fixed him with her golden eyes, leaning forwards ever so slightly.
Hiccup blinked. "Really?"
"Yes," Azula nodded. "You're the future chief after all, correct? So really I'm ahead of the curve, getting into your good graces while you're young. It could serve me well...if I...don't find a way to get back home."
"Yeah well, glad I could be of service," Hiccup snarked, defensively. That wasn't something he wanted to hear.
The firebender smiled at him, oblivious. "That's the spirit. You should use who you are to your advantage. I always tried to tell my brother that, but he never listened to me. You remind me of Zuzu, actually." If one was to squint, one could almost imagine a flicker of loneliness in Azula's eyes.
"But you're in luck. I shall help you become, well, better."
Now Hiccup was really confused. "What?"
"You're welcome," Azula said brightly. "Since you are kind of a laughingstock, it reflects poorly on me by proxy. I'll help you lose your poor reputation and climb the ladder of social greatness."
"I-I'm starting to get emotional whiplash over here," Hiccup said with a squint, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "How would you even help me? It's not like I've never tried to-to fit in. That's why I wanted to, er, slay a dragon."
Azula nodded, eyes closed. "Yes, a worthy objective. Where I come from those who slay dragons are regarded as heroes. To do so requires unbelievable strength and skill. The names of warriors who slew dragons are remembered by children hundreds of years later," she opened her eyes, letting out a long breath. "I can see why you'd want to do that. My uncle killed a dragon, and everyone respects him even though he's a fuddy-duddy."
"Yeah. My dad popped the head off a dragon right after he was born," Hiccup shrugged in agreement. "You have no idea how often I've heard that story."
Silence. Azula stared at him, blank faced and wide eyed.
"Where is dad, anyway?" Hiccup looked around, as if expecting Stoick to pop up from beneath the table.
"He's out. Excuse me, he did what?" Azula finally found her voice.
Hiccup shrugged again. "That's what they all say. Then there's me, who-"
"Yes yes, whatever," Azula said shortly, narrowing her eyes and looking off to the side. She seemed a little put off, as if she was frantically recalculating something. "Anyway, as I was saying before you distracted me-"
"Sorry."
"Whatever. Anyway, I was going to say you should aim a little lower. What you need is a following. Fortunately I'm great at getting people to follow me. I'll help you."
"You...are great at getting followings, what?" Hiccup looked less than convinced. "You?"
Azula huffed. "Yes. All you need is a push in the right direction. A heroic moment, if you will. All you need be is alert," she looked into his eyes and smiled, no doubt meant to be reassuring...but it gave Hiccup chills.
"I'm sure the opportunity will present itself."
OOO: Approximately one breakfast later...
"Snotlout ooh! Snotlout aaah!" the young viking hummed to himself, making his way through the streets of Berk without a care in the world. And why not? Why should Snotlout, greatest viking who ever lived, have things like cares? Cares were for girls. Just like tears. Or feelings.
It was a rather windy day, and various leaves and bits of debris blew past him as he walked. Snotlout paid them no mind. But then, suddenly, a piece of parchment caught his eye. It blew towards him, carried by the wind, and bumped against his leg. Snotlout leaned down and picked it up.
"Ew, junk," he said, throwing it over his shoulder. Then he continued on his merry way, heading towards the docks to see what the traders had brought in today.
Suddenly the piece of parchment flew at him again, this time catching on his face. "ACK! What the-" he peeled it off, and again chucked it to the side. "Alright, who's leaving this stuff out like this? Geez, some people have no respect for the environment."
Again he started humming, cavorting towards–
The piece of parchment, this time tied around a rock, came hurling out of some nearby bushes and smacked him square on the face.
"OW!" he said loudly, falling on his backside. "MY FACE! NOT MY FACE! THE ONE THING YOU DON'T HIT! SOMEONE HELP!" He rolled around for a little bit, clutching his head. Finally, he pulled himself together.
"Alright Snotlout, it's okay, rugged-but-scarred is in right now, you'll be fine," he patted his cheeks–then noticed the parchment-turned-missile. "ALRIGHT! Who threw this! Ruffnut! Tuffnut! I'm thinking of you!"
Far away, pushing sheep over, Ruffnut and Tuffnut sneezed simultaneously.
Snotlot looked down at the parchment, and untied it gingerly and carefully. "Probably has a snake or something inside..."
But it didn't. Inside was a message, written in some girly handwriting.
-Oh my most rugged viking, it read, how I have admired you from afar. I long to profess my feelings to you, but alas, I have hidden them far away beneath a veil of pride and false bravado. Only if I was truly alone could I tell you how I feel.
Please, meet me under the blasted willow, in the woods, under the light of the setting sun. Do not be late.
-Astrid.
"...Wow," Snotlout breathed, his eyes widening in wonder. "These are a lot of words-yeah, too nerdy. I'm not reading this. NICE TRY NUTS!"
Then he chucked the message over his shoulder, and carried on his way.
The nearby bush let out a sound that was remarkably similar to that of a palm striking a forehead.
Azula carefully climbed out of the bushes, looking both ways to make sure she wasn't being observed. She brushed herself off. That hadn't worked at all. The plan had been fairly simple.
Step 1: Take advantage of the obvious attraction Snotlout had for Astrid, and use it to lure him into the woods.
Step 2: Trap Snotlout, in a pit or something. This shouldn't have been too hard, she knew where he would be and when he'd get there.
Step 3: Leave him there, preferably till he was desperate but before he got really hurt, and then
Step 4: Have Hiccup rescue him. By coincidence. Hiccup always went out into the woods. That would have been believeable...
It was such a good plan! It was simple, elegant, and effective. Hiccup didn't even know about it, so it couldn't be traced back to him, and it was unlikely it'd be connected to her...as long as she was able to get rid of that letter. But Snotlout had gone and ruined it. Azula huffed. She'd never forgive him.
Oh well, time to move on to plan B. She better get rid of that letter now though, before...
She turned around just in time to see a gust of wind pick up the letter and blow it away downwind–where it stuck to possibly the worst thing it could have stuck to. Stoick's leg. The dragon-head-popper himself. Azula wasn't sure she believed that story, but she also didn't want to find out if it was true or not: beyond that, he was someone who would see straight through that phony letter.
So yes, this was bad.
"THAT'S NOT YOURS!" she yelled, racing over and swiping the parchment away. It unfortunately tore in two places, leaving part of it in Stoick's hand. "It's a message. For...Snothead. Snotlout." She smiled at him.
Ash, I didn't mean to say that.
Stoick looked down at the message in his hand. It read "Oh my most rugged viking, how I have admired you from afar. I long to profess my feelings to you, but alas, I have hidden them far away beneath a veil of pride and false bravado..." The rest was torn off.
The chief looked up from the parchment at her. "This is for Snotlout?"
"Y-yes," Azula replied, gritting her teeth. Agni, this wasn't how this should have gone. Stoick's brow furrowed as he looked at her.
He leaned down. "Look, Azula, I don't know you very well, but...ah, how do I say this, Snotlout, he's..." he paused, rubbing a temple with one huge hand. "He's not...good."
Azula's eyed widened. "You think–no. Nononononono. No," she said vehemently, shaking her head. "That's–That's not what's going on here–"
Stoick looked down to the parchment in his hand, then back at her. He raised an eyebrow.
"I know what that looks like," Azula said. She yanked the remaining parchment away, and set the offending thing on fire. "But it's not what you think. It's–It's...complicated." Azula winced at the terrible excuse. She was normally better than this.
Time to abort.
"I have...to go...do something else," she said suddenly, turning around and racing off.
Not my most brilliant exit, but my fastest one.
She didn't look back–this was probably the single most embarrassing moment of her life. Once she was a fair distance away, Azula pulled herself around a tree, and threw her back against it. She stood there, frozen, for a good moment. It didn't look like Stoick had followed. Good. She needed a new plan. Agni, getting Hiccup to play the hero was going to be far too difficult if this was any indication. Maybe what he needed was just some basic STAND STRAIGHT AND STOP MUMBLING instead.
But what kind of princess abandoned her plans after one foiled attempt? No. She could still pull this off. She just needed a better scenario. And better execution. Yes.
This could still work.
Meanwhile Stoick stood where Azula had left him, thanking all the gods that he'd had a son and not a daughter. Girls were so complicated.
Author's Note: I swear these things are too easy to write. This, much like the last two, was originally longer, but I decided to break it up. I DIDN'T WANT A 5000+ WORD CHAPTER OUT OF NOWHERE OKAY.
R&R peeps!