Here's a shorter chapter, but it is important. Enjoy!
Chapter 4
Astrid stayed in her room for most of the day. Though she had said that she would talk to Nameless – a task she definitely wanted to do – she needed some time to sort out her thoughts. He could come later, after the wedding the next day they would still stay to celebrate for the next couple of days.
The main emotion she felt was relief – pure, blissful relief. Her freedom had been returned, and she could be the shieldmaiden once more. She had not seen Snotlout since his embarrassing defeat, nor did she want to. Astrid felt almost sorry for him: he really did humiliate himself a good deal, especially with the help of Nameless. Still though, Snotlout had annoyed her too many times for her feel pity.
Again, it was Nameless that confused her. Why did he do it? He had to real personal gain, sure, he did something honourable, though unusual, but he already seemed to be at the epitome of respect from others; many revered him, and she had even heard a couple of rumours that he was the embodiment of a god themselves. Of course she didn't believe that, but his actions still remained unclear. In their first two brief meetings, he had seemed incredibly nervous, but when he challenged Snotlout he was the confident warrior acting with utter assurity.
However, though he may have acted strangely, he had helped her in a way that could not be easily described; he had given Astrid her freedom back. She felt incredibly grateful, promising to herself to voice her gratitude to him later, for she had not had a chance to do so yet.
It was funny – Astrid had been so angry at him seemingly treating her like nothing but an item to be owned, only for him to give up what he had just fought for, knowing what she wanted. It really was a selfless act; she had experienced first hand an example of how he commanded such respect: he was a warrior fighting for justice and the good of people.
Astrid also noticed how he had seemed very interested in her axe – he had dropped the spear he had been working on to examine it. Of course, it was an exquisite piece of art, as well as being a deadly weapon. The blade retained its sharpness very well, and had not chipped or rolled even after years of use. The axe had felled many a dragon over the years, and succeeded where other weapons may well have failed. Hiccup, as strange as he was, and for finding a friend amongst the enemy that threatened to wipe them off the map, was at least a very skilled and talented smith.
Astrid gasped and sat up in bed as another thought crossed her mind. Could it be that Nameless was so interested in the axe, because he recognised the smith? Did Nameless know Hiccup? Or at least of him?
If he did, maybe he would know where he was? If it was possible, Astrid would like to meet him. Sure, he associated himself with dragonkind, but not everyone could shoot down a night fury. In fact, he was the only one to have ever done so. No more night furies had been sighted since. Astrid didn't need Hiccup to help with Snotlout anymore, but still, she owed him an apology. But then, that night fury had felled many great warriors. Dragons had killed her uncle Finn!
If she saw him, Astrid wasn't sure how she would react. Part of her wanted to give him what he deserved for consorting with the enemy. The other part was curious about him, and she wanted to give him the recognition that he deserved. Her opinion was split; she leant to one side, then the other repeatedly. But for her tribe's sake, and for their honour, she always decided that Hiccup must have had some reasoning to do with the fury. After all, she was the only one to know about the dragon: she had never told anyone else.
A tiny part of her, though she put it down and refused to accept it, was intrigued by the man he may have become, and his profession of his love to her in the letter which she had kept hidden. Did he still feel that way, even after not seeing her once in five years?
Astrid was sure Hiccup was still alive. Despite all his failures, he had a knack for survival, and with a night fury by his side, he could never fall. That thought scared Astrid more than she would like to admit.
She shook her head to clear the same thoughts that had plagued her mind so many times. Glancing out of the window, she realised it was dark, and headed to the hall for food, for she was hungry.
Entering the hall, her eyes were immediately drawn to Stoick, who was having a conversation with Nameless. Both were animatedly talking, Nameless especially gesturing all over the place with his arms. Astrid could hear their raised voices, but could not hear what they were saying over the din of the conversation in the hall.
Making her way over to the pair, she saw Nameless seem to give up, head bowed in submission. Clearly Stoick had won whatever argument it had been; he was known for his stubbornness after all. The chief saw Astrid approaching, and motioned for her to come to him. With interest, she noticed that he too looked defeated in a way. Nameless also glanced at hers, vibrant green eyes meeting hers briefly, before he averted his gaze and walked away, disappearing in the crowd.
"Astrid lass, I have news for you."
She was worried by his tone, and tentatively asked, "What is it?"
"Nameless may have beat Snotlout, but since he renounced the betrothal…" He paused, voice dropping off.
"What is it?" Astrid demanded, anger creeping into her voice. She had a bad feeling about where this was going.
"I'm afraid you are still betrothed to Snotlout." He said with a sigh, quickly continuing when he saw Astrid's face contort with rage and her mouth open. "He's the heir of Berk, and his father is my first cousin. There's nothing I can do lass, I'm sorry. If Nameless had not renounced the betrothal, you would be wedded to him eventually, but because he did, I cannot cancel the agree-"
"Snotlout lost the fight!" Astrid screamed, not caring that she was drawing many eyes towards her. Her feeling of relief was replaced with rage and desperation. "He humiliated himself, and our village! Even you cannot deny that. I will not marry that embarrassment!"
Her voice started to crack, and tears welled up in her eyes. Vikings don't cry, she told herself repeatedly, but she had already broken that rule countless times since she was engaged to Snotlout. Tears started to fall down her face, and she let out a final scream of frustration, before making to run out of the hall, hands covering her face. As she neared the doors, she felt a strong hand grasp her arm.
"Astrid, I'm sor-"
It was Nameless, and she could see his eyes darken in regret and sorrow. She did not notice, the fury in her merely escalating at seeing him. She cut him off by whipping her arm out of his grasp, and delivered a hard punch to his mid-section. He didn't try to defend himself, just bending over gasping, having had the wind knocked out of him.
"No!" she screamed, "All you've done is make me feel even worse! You give me a brief taste of hope, before taking it all away again! Get out of my way!"
With that, Astrid ran out of the hall, sobs racking through her body. Back in her room, she slammed the door so hard the building shook. Not bothering to even remove her boots, she flung herself onto the bed, sobbing loudly. That moment of brief freedom made the return to captivity so much worse, and she resented Nameless for it.
The next day was the day of the wedding. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, but Astrid hung her head low, eyes red and puffy from crying. The day passed blindly by her; she got up around lunchtime when Stoick summoned her, watching the wedding without interest. She'd collected her axe from the forge, now all sharpened, before making her way down to the shore.
It was a mixture of a classic Viking wedding and the traditions from the Defenders of the Wing. Dagur and Mala performed a type of dance known as the 'Dance of the Blades'. Normally Astrid would have called it beautiful, the pair weaving their swords gracefully round each other in a clearly well-practised routine.
Nameless presented the ceremonial swords and rings. They were all beautifully forged, inlaid with many fine jewels. Dagur's sword was a classic Viking sword, made with a complicated twisted damascus technique, whereas Mala's was gently curved, bearing a circular guard and no pommel. It had been called a 'katana', and was a type of sword the Defenders often used.
Dagur won the bride running, even though Mala was taller; he screamed a Berserker warcry as he sprinted from the shore into the hall. This meant that the Defenders had to pay for the feast, but the queen didn't seem to mind.
Astrid watched blankly as Dagur thrust his sword deep into the pillar, his large muscles bulging with the effort. The feat was applauded, and whispers flew about claiming their marriage would last long, and be prosperous.
Astrid sat oblivious through the feast with the other Berkians, picking at her food here and there. She had not eaten all day but did not at all feel hungry. In the corner of her eye she also saw Nameless sitting still, head bowed, glancing occasionally at her. He did not eat, but Astrid wasn't surprised since he had his helm on, as always. He caught her eyes again, emerald eyes meeting azure orbs, and she glared at him, fury so abundant on her face that he quickly looked away. Astrid sat through the dances that followed, and ignored the lewd comments aimed at the newlyweds as they made their way out of the hall towards Dagur's house, obviously to consummate their marriage.
She exited the hall shortly after, making her way back to her room for another sleepless, restless night.
Heather had enjoyed the wedding, happy for her brother. However, she also felt sorry for Astrid, seeing her so obviously depressed. And then Nameless too, he was also annoyed. Heather had already reprimanded him for his rather foolish actions of fighting Snotlout for Astrid. In the end, it had not worked, but also he now obviously had people wondering why he attempted to help Astrid.
However, when she had stormed out of the hall, blaming Nameless for the issues, he'd been really hurt. Heather was slightly annoyed with Astrid, for she and Nameless had had to visit the stables together and find the comfort of Toothless for him. She was sure he was crying, but she couldn't see through the visor. Even so, she couldn't blame Astrid. She had thought that she had been given her freedom again, only for it to be taken away once more; the oppression of her situation must have seemed so much worse after the taste of being free.
She now sat in the forge with Nameless, watching him forge some weapons, currently throwing axe head, out of the new shipment of gronkle iron. He'd found the recipe for it a couple of years ago in an abandoned Dragon Hunter ship.
The Dragon Hunters. That one tribe the Berserkers, Wingmaidens and Defenders had defeated together, solidifying the alliance of the dragon lovers last year, and since then it had been peaceful. Their now deceased leader, Viggo Grimborn, had actually given Nameless the idea for his improved version of Inferno. It was sad, after having many internal issues with his tribe, he seemed to realise that dragons were kind, intelligent creatures, and he died sacrificing himself, saving Nameless in the process. The King of Dragons, which they had later named the Bewilderbeast, had been led to a distant island up north, away from Berserker Island. Heather grimaced when she thought of Johann's betrayal, he had had them fooled for so long.
Now the only enemies they had were the Outcasts, who had not bothered them for a while. Heather particularly hated them, and their leader, Alvin the Treacherous who had forced her to work against Nameless. That had been 5 years ago, when he was still Hiccup and didn't always wear a mask.
She hoped that one day he could be like that again, no longer hiding his face and name.
The sound of sizzling oil from the quench brought Heather back from her thoughts, and she watched as Nameless ran a file down the edge, checking the hardness was right. He looked at her, green eyes still sorrowful. "Heather, why don't you go back home, it's late."
With a nod, she stood up and said a quick goodbye before setting into the night, making her way to her home. Unfortunately, this was very close to Dagur's house, and she tried to ignore the very obvious noises coming from that side as she climbed into the covers.
Nameless was obviously at a loss; his situation with Astrid wasn't good right now, and also he could not reintegrate with Berk before the problem of dragons was sorted out. They knew the root of the problem, there was an alpha ordering the attacks on Berk that they had dubbed the Red Death. Getting rid of her should make the problem of making Berk be at peace with the reptiles much easier, but knowing that didn't help the predicament. The Red Death was the size of a mountain, and they had no idea how to defeat it. But until then Nameless could never reveal himself, or alliances may well be severed, Nameless himself may well be exiled, and they would try to kill Toothless. No, that would not do.
Heather lay pondering these problems to the backdrop of Dagur and Mala, before falling into sleep.
Hope everyone's enjoying the story so far!
Special thanks to IcyForest, the first reviewer for this story; your kind words have really inspired me to keep writing this! I have written many short stories in the past, so I'm not new to writing, but this is my first longer story. I hope this chapter clears up some of the questions, but with Hiccup's relationships with Gobber and Stoick, I don't want to give any spoilers, so I'm just going to say this: Hiccup knows he needs to help Berk make peace with the dragons before he can come back. He originally set out to prove himself, and upon completion of that task, Hiccup knows Stoick and Gobber will fully accept him, so he isn't too nervous with them. Astrid is different, however.
I hope I managed to describe Astrid's whirling emotions in this chapter, her very divided opinion of Hiccup, and her opinions on Nameless. Sorry for not going into the wedding in too much depth (if that's what you wished for), but the source material really doesn't give me much to work with, for example the Dance of the Blades is never shown, only when Mala is training for it and seems overly psychotiacally violent. Describing part of the wedding in detail and half-hashing the other simply won't do.
Anyway, enough rambling, and stay tuned for the next chapter!
