Hey guys, Sorry the 'bonus' chapter morphed into 3 shorts like that. But I came up with that subplot of hound and I couldn't help myself. [ sorry, not sorry :P] Things are about to get slightly mad now- and I've just realized that Heroes are nothing without their villains. This 'Adventure' shit is gonna run away with itself. Wish me luck! -L
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; The Queen Anne's Revenge;
Her heels stomped across the deck murderously. The bow was whipped off her back and notched in one fluid motion. She aimed high and fired. The iron arrow lodged in the first tier, startling a poor pirate into almost falling off. She huffed, her hair flaring about her face like a mane. The iron arrows were heavy, outfitted with large rings at the end instead of feathers which made them hell to aim and fire but it meant you could use as a handhold when scaling a wall or in this case- scaling the air. She tied a rope to the end of her 2nd iron arrow, which was shaped like an over sized needle and aimed for just over the same tier. It flew upwards and through the 1rst arrow's hoop, and kept flying upward toward a sea rat's skull. The pirate scrambled out of the way, feeling the wind of the arrow passing him bum. He swore down at her but Excellionr the 2nd, hiccup's cousin and yes, proposed fiancé , focused solely on the iron arrow. The rope dragged and cut it's flight short and the arrow came back down, swinging like a heavy pengelum. She caught it above the sharpened point and began feeding more rope through. With a few knots and insistent threading through iron eyes, the rope was spent as an enormous loop that appeared before her. she sat on it and began pulling herself up. Hand over hand, she hauled her own weight like cargo from the shore. She had become incredibly strong from pulling herself up like this, high above the deck until she could swing back and forth without the chance of kicking someone in the head. She tried not to be the weakling her grandmother thought she was. She made these "swings" for herself whenever she was upset. And she was often upset.
Chewing her lip, feeling a patch of dry skin slowly peel between teeth, she began to swing, the raw skin stinging in the salty air. Her expression darkened with her thoughts, bitten down nails digging into the rope. She tried, she tried, she tried. She tried not to be the weakling her grandmother thought she was but she really couldn't handle spending so much time with her. The woman was as kind and comforting …as sandpaper, a dictator aboard this ship to rival any king. Grandmother Excellinor never asked for anything-she gave orders. And if you even questioned her decisions you could be whipped before the entire crew. …Even her only son.
She hated her grandmother for that, it didn't matter that it had only happened once, but To this Day that woman loved to humiliate her father. Constantly comparing him to uncle Stoick. What was so great about uncle Stoick anyway?! Sure he had a son- but Hiccup was slight as a shadow and Spitelout's child was a fae to anyone with eyes! And it's not like they needed for anything now.
Excellionr started swinging her legs faster and she swung slightly more violently, if they hit an iceberg she'd be thrown from her 'swing'. Perhaps she was just being melodramatic… but the way people looked at her… the crew cowered before her father, they scurried away from her grandmother, but with her they just… frowned. Scowled. A mix between disappointment and distrust.
How Excellinor the 2nd missed her home. Riding her horse, Angus, through the lush woods, wandering stone castles, visiting ancient meadows… she even missed her devilish little brothers. Not only was Excellinor the 2nd cursed with little brothers, there were three of them! But because she was the oldest and the only girl, she had to be married off. If only her brothers were just a little bit older! Oh but it was no good feeling sorry for herself. Though they were still surrounded by fog, up here it had thinned and the sun could be made out, crawling it's way across the sky. From her place just below the yardarm… the world seemed quite empty. Just more fog…
Am I the only person in the world to feel so alone? No one on the ship trusted her here… except maybe the man who wore a bucket on his head- bless him- he was too sweet to know any better. She looked below and yes, there was the top of the man's head or well, bucket. He was talking to his best friend very animatedly as they peeled potatoes near the stern. She could hear them laughing. When was that last time she'd been allowed to laugh? She missed laughing, all her jokes- her dad at least chuckled at them- but her grandmother glares at them then, like 'how dare you be happy in my presence?'. Excellinor twisted her hands in the rope, burning the already splintering skin.
Grandmother Excellinor the 1rst is a horrible person. I'll go to Hel for thinking it, but she is. I would never put down any of my children like that. My father Never did that to us. He never called us pigs or bastards, or told us she'd wished she'd killed him or put Rats in our Gruel. My father would never tell us that we were Dissapointments! "The River rats bring back more treasure than you. Stoick leveled an entire village! The Raiders have been taming Dragons now! Why can't you do that? Stoick is bigger, Stoick is stronger!" What was so great about uncle Stoick anyway?! Sure he had a son- but Hiccup was slight as a shadow and Spitelout's child was a fae to anyone with eyes! None of them would Ever be as fearless a pirate as Her Father.
She 'humphed' indignantly and crossed her arms. She had been nodding so sharply to her thoughts that her flaming hair had seemed crackle and flicker like the light of a candle.
Now if only I could say this to her face? Oh that'll be the day- I'll be lashed against a canon or walked off the plank. Why does someone so mean, so cruel have to be in charge? Because of Tradition?! She's such a tiny little woman anyway! We could roll her off the side in an empty wine barrel! How I wish we would. As bad as that is, the worst part about dealing with her is that she'll never stop. Dad keeps trying to please her but she'll never be satisfied- she'd conquer the whole world if she could. She's so possessed with being in control- I can't stand to 'wait it out' until she dies- That hag is insatiable. Is there nothing that can stop her-
And here Excellinor's mind froze. Her mother's voice in her head from the last time they'd seen each other, "Darling, at least marriage is better than a full out war..." She shuddered, her mother's voice coming back to her, louder each time. "You're the eldest, you must set an example and follow faithfully the tradition.""It is your duty to keep the peace."
Eldest and daughter, she had tried to want it. It sounded plausible when her mother was there to reason it out to her…the ones they were most in danger of going to war with was their distant relatives who called themselves The Nightfury Raiders. This meant she could marry Snotlout or Hiccup. Uhg, to have to marry a blood relative… but both were her age at least, adaptable, skilled pirates, and though they bickered as kids both of them could make her laugh now…
Merida closed her eyes and tried to take deep breath- and mid breath Excellinor the 2nd spat violently and glared after it as it plummeted and splattered on the deck.
She could never want this. It didn't matter which one- War would be a far more pirate thing to do than getting married to your COUSIN. Who wouldn't want this either, they'd grow to hate each other, and they'd have Mutant Devils for babies! She might rather die in battle than marry so young and be stuck as a viciously bitter mother in One Place For the Rest Of Her Life. And it's not like they needed to stay one clan anyway!
She started kicking, screaming internally, and tearing at her long layers of copper hair. The swing staggered dangerously.
Helspit and Dragon fire! All she wanted was to be a pirate- none of this war, and revenge, and tradition-
"And I Definitely don't want to get Married!" she yelled with a vicous snap to each sound… and immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. She wasn't allowed to have opinions… not on this, and not here.
;
As excellinor 2nd had been kicking silently at the air, Bucket looked up at her, slightly amused.
Mulch followed bucket's eyes upward and scrunched his bulbous nose, "Is she having a spasm up there?"
Bucket pouted, "It's not a spasm. She doesn't spasm." He said shaking his hand in the air between them floppily.
Mulch tried to say, "I told you she was crazy." In an 'I told you so' voice.
Bucket's expression flattened, completely unimpressed. "She's not crazy, I'm crazy." He even pointed up to the bucket on his head- his hand bouncing with insistence.
Mulch quirked his thick eyebrows at Bucket's headgear, inclined to agree. But he flicked bucket's know-it-all expression right on the nose and shrugged. "I still say she's crazy… you're out of your mind."
Bucket looked at him confused, rubbing his nose tenderly. Mulch chuckled, "she's crazy 'cause she has the hope of sanity… but you're hopeless."
Bucket blew out his cheeks, "So I have nothing to lose?"
"None." Came the immediate answer from Mulch, trying to smother a smile.
Bucket smiled at Mulch for a moment before head-butting him, the handle of his bucket imprinting further into his forehead. Mulch swore colorfully, reeling backwards.
"Nothing to lose~" Bucket sing-songed, eyes glinting.
Just then Excellinor 2nd yelled something so emphatically that they both looked up and saw a gob and angry spit dive to the deck.
"OY!" yelled Mulch, "We have to clean that up!" He then paled, as he remembered who he was talking to. But much to his surprise, she called down a guilty "sorry…"
"Well… I have to mop anyway…" he said glancing at Bucket, who suddenly remembered he was leaning on a mop like a staff.
"No, don't bother, I'll do it." And before Mulch could protest she was sliding down to the deck, landed, and blowing her burned red palms.
"No, you really-" started Mulch, but she'd already taken the mop from Bucket's fumbling fingers and was furiously swabbing the deck.
Mulch shifted from foot to foot awkwardly and Bucket simply put his hands in his pockets.
…
Eventually Mulch couldn't stand it.
"So what language were you speaking up there?"
She looked up, eyes wide, and hair half falling in her face, "Are you talking to me?"
"Course, I am! It sounded real strange too."
Bucket smiled toothily, "from down here it sounded like 'Death in it lee won't target Meh Ree-Dah!'"
"No it did not." She said, smiling cheekily. "You two just can't understand Edumacated English."
Mulch snorted, unable to help himself. Bucket readjusted his bucket as he looked at her, "Your accent sure does get thick when your angry…"
There was beat before she blinked at Bucket in surprise, "Wot Acksyient, Maytie?"
Bucket started and then burst into giggles.
"Yewer wons wiyt the acksient, bouyos!"
Mulch's booming laughter startled her but she smiled wider, and they both noticed how her smile was a charming kind of wild.
When Bucket tried to keep imitating the flowery Scottish accent, Merida couldn't even look at him anymore. It was so embarrassing. Soon though he was just fooling around with it and it began to sound like other languages instead. "Is that French?" she said, incredulously, "that's nothing like me!"
Bucket began to fan himself apparently exhausted from his efforts, but then he started fluttering his eyelashes, "Oooh la la~!"
She shrieked with laughter over which Mulch yelled, "you call that French? Sounds like Mandarin!"
"Well than you try." Bucket said, punching his fists into his hips. Mulch could actually imitate the accent really well. They both froze in shock and just gaped at him. Mulch tried to deadpan, but smoothing his shirt like he was preening, "It's not that surprising I'm good, y'know?"
Bucket pointed at him, "I should have known you were a fake."
"OY." Mulch barked and she fell apart into giggles.
"everything about you is a lie!"
"who you calling a liar?"
"Oh, I bet you he's a pirate too." She stage whispered to Bucket. They both cracked up and Mulch snorted at them. "Chowderheads! Oh, stop it, it wasn't That funny… Oh what about you Meh RiiiDah.
Bucket parroted between giggles, "Meriiida! Merriiida!"
"Nooo, we can't be back to me!" she said, smacking him lightly. And then her smile faded and her back straightened. The two men followed her gaze and instead slouched and tried to shrink away.
"Excellinor!"
"Coming Father…' her footfalls resounded solemnly as she walked back into the dark of below.
But as she walked away she heard Bucket whisper, "see you later, Meriida." And Mulch chuckle, "Merida."
She glanced back, flashing the wild smile as she swallowed by the dank dark.
;In Berk- the house of Grandmother Ota;
Two hands tall and terrifying. His skin of dark blue stone, his eyes were two corks that bulged over the edge of his carved cheek bones. The mouth was hollow but stretched across it was the skin of a drum. If you pulled the skin and let it fall back the entire statuette would echo with the voice of Odin himself, or at least that's what was supposed to happen.
5 hands tall and synical, Rek began to ruffle his crooked blonde bangs that were so like his sister's. His hair was getting too long in the back- and he had taken to tying it in a ponytail. He'd been mistaken by trader's as Astrid's little sister but in the end no one wanted to cut his hair. The truth was- Rek was pretty. Children his age were almost always cute- but Rek was exceptional, almost too pretty to be a boy. Rek didn't mind so much, it gave him an advantage when he fought with the other young boys because they kept being careful with him like they were fighting a girl. It also meant that he could make himself cry before the wise woman, Grandma Ota and she would usher him into the house for a cup of hot chocolate. He sipped it carefully as he eyed the statuette on the far side table. He believed in the wise woman's wisdom but her magic? Making the crops grow, summoning some rain. It always felt like those things would happen whether she muttered over her statues or not. Rek believed in the sun's heat and a Dragon's fire but magic? It sounded like a scam one of the trader's would cook up.
The statue glowered down at Rek- it's yawning mouth silent. Rek kicked himself for being so afraid of it. But if any magic was real in the world, that statue would have some. And Rek was getting desperate.
He'd been searching for his sister until midnight last night when he'd fallen asleep deep in the woods, between the roots of a tree, and had to be carried back home. His mother was campaigning to the other warriors that a voyage be organized to go after the pirates. She was really sure that the pirates had taken Astrid. Then this morning when the twins had reported the dragon prints and Astrid's by the cliff, well it was disheartening. And now his father was insisting that Astrid had been eaten by a dragon. It was very plausible. His mother had argued that the 'mystery foot prints' had probably belonged to a pirate. But many villagers were already taking it for a fact that Astrid was eaten by a dragon. After all, no one wanted to voyage into the mists- none of those boats came back.
Rek snorted at all their excuses, didn't the grown-ups realize that they were Vikings? That it was an occupational hazard?
Well with his mother steadily getting more frustrated and his father deep in denial, Rek didn't think they would find her. In the end, if he wanted something done he'd do it himself. That's what his sister would have told him, anyway…
So when Grandma Ota wandered back to her library, Rek dragged his chair in front of the blue statue. His drew level to it's eerie mouth when he stood atop his chair. It reminded him of voodoo dolls- where the mouth had been sewn shut, but in defiance the statue had forced his mouth agape.
Rek shook himself and pulled the drum skin and let it fall back with a dull thrum. The sound was impressive but distant; perhaps he hadn't pulled hard enough? But as he leaned forward to try again the chair somehow slipped out from under him. He stumbled, catching himself but still ending up on his back on the floor. Distant thunder. The ceiling seemed to sway slightly, like it did during a monsoon, and from among the lanterns and knick knacks that were strung from the rafters fell one of Granma Ota's beaded coin purses. It bounced off of Rek's head.
"Oww- oh dragonshit!" He muttered when he saw that the coin purses' contents had spilled across the floor.
"Are you alright, Rek?" called Grandma Ota, accompanied by footsteps.
"I'm fine!" he called back as he stuffed everything into his pocket. He stood up quickly, just in time to see Grandma Ota re-enter the room.
"Rek, what happened?"
"Tripped over a chair leg." He said too quickly but Granma Ota just smiled and gestured like she was tweaking his nose.
"Silly boy. I think your father is calling for you."
"Ok, Grandma Ota!" he said, skipping for the door and rubbing his nose which for some reason actually felt tweaked.
"Oh, and child!"
He stopped, the doorknob in his hand, wondering if he was busted. "Yes, Grandma?"
She beckoned him back to her, put a tiny withered hand on his head. She hummed, which turned to muttering. Straining his ears, Rek could only hear fragments before she kissed his forehead.
"Do be safe, darling." She said, smiling down at him but her eyes were searching his for something, the worry lined in her brow. She muttered, "…I would have followed you." But her eyes were already distant and her humming had started again.
Rek blinked up at her with all the fake innocence he could muster. And she let him go.
He burst through the front door into a blissfully sunny day. Giddy, free as a bird, yet slowing to a wandering stride, Rek searched the sky. Hadn't he heard thunder…?
It was only later when Rek started digging through his pockets and found the oddly carved pieces of wood and the coin purse that rek started humming. He started playing with them- he was pretty sure that these were a certain kind of runes. He didn't know how to use them so he set them before him on the kitchen table, he shuffled and rolled them like he was playing jax. His mother came in, having just come from a construction site to recruit people for the search voyage Bertha wanted to change her clothes- but she paused to listen to her youngest child's twittering voice singing a sad, slightly stagnant melody.
"And I… will swallow my- pride." Clack went the runes.
" You're the one that I love… and I'm saying good-bye…" He briefly smiled up at his mother as the runes fell like domino's. cli-cli-cli-cli-clack.
"Say something… I'm giving-"
"-Lovey, why are you singing such a depressing song?" Bertha asked, a hand distractedly dusting off her tunic.
"It's sad?" Clack. "I heard it from Grandma Ota." Clack.
"did you?" she said, relaxing slightly.
Mr. Hofferson came in then.
he smiled at them both
but then strode past them both to kneel before their alter for the gods.
They knew the routine by now…He would just sit there and pray… for hours. Bertha harrumphed slightly but said nothing as she climbed the stairs to their room.
and Rek sung under his breath, "Giving up on… you." clack.
;Misty Isle- The Haddock household;
"Did he see you?" Stoick ran an enormous hand through his thick beard. The small stool disappeared under his enormous proportions and the rest of the furniture were equally dwarfed in comparison. Almost everything in the room was "repaired" as between the two of them none of their belongings seemed to last very long.
"He didn't try to blast me out of the sky, so no." Said hiccup quipped as he swung his hand out and knocked over a candlestick.
Stoick righted the candlestick without really noticing, "Are you sure it was Alvin?"
"Yes!" this was the third time Stoick had asked him that and Hiccup and he was getting exasperated, "I even got close enough to smell his damn body odor. It was him."
Stoick swore graphically just as the door swung open.
"Stoick!" scolded Val and he bit his lower lip. Hiccup started and then laughed lightly. It was almost like they'd never been parted. Jack had told him not to get his hopes up but Hiccup still wondered if his parents would move past this. They still acted like the other was their better half... Oh shit, he had to get back to Astrid. Leaving her with Rapunzel was one thing, but if Mother Gothel dropped by-
"I better go." Hiccup said sliding his fur vest back on from where it had been drying by the fire.
Stoick caught his son in might have been a stern expression but it was hard to tell with his enormous beard. "Yes, to Gobber's forge, right?"
"Whaat?" Hiccup whined, already half out the door.
"You promised- Hiccup, in fact you promised to help him Last Week. 'and what about the leather we stole from Burming? How can we have all that leather and only a few of the dragon rider's have saddles?
"That'll take weeks to make anyway" Hiccup said, dismissing the thought with a wave that knocked over a nearby vase. Val caught it and tapped him on the head with it.
"So you better get started." Stoick said.
Hiccup frowned and pushed the vase away, "You're not serious."
Stoick said nothing, did nothing but began to personify his name. Somehow with just that stony expression Hiccup let out a bitter groan. "You can't do this to me right now!"
Stoick: -_-
Hiccup glared at his father but the effect was somewhat ruined when his mother kissed him on the cheek. "Wear your gloves when your working with the fire"
"Oh not you too!" he said.
Val: ^_^
Stoick: -_-
Hiccup tried, he really did! but it was no use. He was outnumbered and the telepathic war ended with Hiccup trudging out in the opposite direction of Astrid.
Hiccup leaves. Muttering under his breath about how the world isn't fair – he started thinking as he hurried down the steps that led to the forge, he thought of picking the eels out of toothless's food, checking on Snotlout to see if he'd been lying about the Vikings purposely leaving rope burns around his wrist, bribing Gobber to let him leave early so that he could return to astrid. Astrid hofferson, lanky, fair skinned, and blonde like most of her people. But her eyes… like looking out a rounded tower window, opening the glass and gazing upward into open blue sky.
yeah, so this is what I got so far, but I have full intention to make this longer and more meaningfull- I swear! It's just... taking a minute...
Oh, and a shout out to Sweettea8, Ferdoos, and GirlWhocriedFoxFace