Chapter 10
"So."
"What's your name again?"
"Heather."
"Heather. Okay, Heather-"
"There you go, you've got it."
"-Say another word, Heather, and I will find a way to crush your skull with this frying pan."
Astrid did not bother standing up to say it, although Heather was looming over her with an annoying smirk. She'd left Astrid alone for a lovely long while, but now Heather was back, casting a shadow over Astrid's formerly nice and peaceful meal.
Astrid had learned in all her interactions with her mother that sometimes the person who refuses to move a muscle, even in a lower position, ends the conversation as the most intimidating combatant - verbally or otherwise.
That being said, Astrid did not feel particularly intimidating with white knuckles and a frying pan lying next to her on the bench. Her weapon of choice had only diminished in the feeling of safety it gave her as she encountered various, much sharper and easier-to-wield weaponry in the world. This uncomfortable revelation joined the many Astrid had been faced with over the course of this journey.
It ached a little, to know how woefully unprepared for the adventure Astrid had actually been. It ached to know her mother had been at least partially right.
Heather shrugged. Then she spun, walked three paces, grabbed a scrawny street urchin from beneath a bench, and began murmuring many unintelligible words in his ear. She paused, and he, much more slowly, murmured some long thing back. Heather nodded, grinned, flicked him a coin from a pouch on her belt, and then nodded in Astrid's direction.
The boy - dirty blond hair, a maroon scarf tied around his forehead, grime crushed all over his face - stood before Astrid hesitantly. He looked back at Heather. Heather raised her eyebrows. The boy turned back to Astrid and cleared his throat.
"The lady says... she doesn't have a problem with you, and that... she doesn't want to bed your man, and that... she's impressed he... landed... you."
Behind him, Heather nodded. In front of him, Astrid fumed.
"Tell Heather he isn't my man," she hissed at the child.
The boy's confusion dropped from his face, replaced with a blank practicality. "You got any coins?"
Astrid's eyebrows furrowed at him. "No," she said, confused.
The boy shrugged. "I won't tell her nothing then." He spun on his heels and disappeared into the throng of oblivious patrons. Astrid shifted into a more comfortable position on the bench. As Heather had disappeared into the back room behind the bar, Astrid settled her glare on the stew delivered by Bucket a few minutes ago. She felt hunger claw its way through her, but she couldn't eat. Instead, she tried to wrestle and crush the other feeling crawling around her stomach. That feeling sickened her, dimmed and paled her vision, crawled across her skin, and burned her throat. She had no idea what this feeling was. She only knew it grabbed a tighter hold on her gut every time she thought about how Hiccup and Heather might know each other.
Her internal struggle was suddenly interrupted by Heather slamming an axe down through Astrid's table.
The tavern dropped into silence as Astrid scrambled back to avoid splinters, stew, and ceramic scraps flying. Heather stood on the bench, frowning down at Astrid. Her eyes glared with sternness but no malice.
"You and I are clearly both better than this," Heather said, voice like steel. "I don't let men dictate how I interact with other women. You shouldn't either."
Astrid opened her mouth to ask questions rumbling around with that gritty feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she stopped the words before they erupted.
Heather was right.
No matter what Hiccup and Heather had in common, Astrid came here to follow her own dreams and have her own adventures. Here before her was a woman Astrid knew, intuitively, she wanted to get to know, at least for the rest of her journey.
Well, maybe it was less intuition and more respect that Heather apparently solved conflicts by splitting tables with axes.
"I'm not your enemy," Heather said, and Astrid knew this was the truth.
Standing to look Heather equally in the eyes, Astrid held out her hand. "And I am not yours."
A grin sprouted across Heather's lips. She unwrapped her fingers from the axe handle and shook Astrid's hand with a firm camaraderie. "Let's start over. What's your name?"
The tension had relinquished Astrid so quickly that a laugh tumbled from her lips. "Astrid. And you're Heather, sister of..." Astrid raised an eyebrow. "...Dagur?"
It was Heather's turn to laugh. "I can understand your hesitation to trust me if you met my brother first," she said. Motioning to the now maimed table, Heather sat down across from Astrid, who mirrored her actions. They both shifted down the bench a few inches to avoid the axe still wedged in the table. Neither woman made any indication of wanting to move it. Around them, the tavern devolved back into individual dramas, rather than any collective interest in Astrid and Heather's now-resolved conflict. Bucket scurried out from behind the bar with what appeared to be two fresh bowls of stew.
"He saved our necks," Astrid said, remembering last night's escape at Dagur's behest. She watched as street children prodded at what was left of the stew in the cracked ceramic bowls and sped off into the din.
Heather shook her head, the warmth of her laughter molding into a fond expression. "But he's crazy," she replied, seemingly reading Astrid's mind.
"Yeah." Astrid reached up to slide her palm along the hilt of the axe. Her fingers fluttered along the strung grooves in the animal hide, and she felt a sense of satisfaction at the feeling. Even in that forge she had visited earlier in the day, swinging around a variety of weapons, she'd known that the axes were her favorite members of the metal family. "I was wondering how you guys could be related until you introduced me to this beauty."
Joining Astrid in admiration, Heather leaned forward onto her elbows. "She is a beauty, isn't she? I call her Windshear. I'm a big fan of the sound of the wind whipping across her blade."
Astrid ran her finger gently along the edge. "She is amazing."
"So what brings you to Berk? I think I'd recognize you if you'd been around." Before Astrid could answer, Bucket dropped the two dishes onto the table, clicked his tongue at Heather's mess, swept the wooden scraps and ceramic pieces into the leather hammock he'd created from his long apron, and bumbled off as he muttered about waste of perfectly good materials. Heather waved her hand. "Don't worry, I'll apologize to them later. Mulch and Bucket love me too much to fire me."
Poking at her stew with the spoon drifting along the bowl's rim, Astrid weighed her secrets before replying: "I came to see the lost princess's celebration. Hiccup was kind enough to be my guide."
Heather ignored a clear - though reluctantly allowed - opportunity to question Astrid about Hiccup. Instead, she hummed in simple acceptance of the response. "Is it that famous? I mean, of course anyone who knows anything about the jarls knows about it, but I didn't think it was worth traveling a great distance to see."
"I see the lanterns from my... village. I don't usually get out much, but I wanted to see them up close." Astrid tilted her head and lifted her chin in Heather's direction. "Have you worked here long?"
"Yup. About three years now. It was a fresh start for me after my parents died." Heather's tone was nonchalant, and the way she crackled her knuckles beneath a fist with a calculatedly casual indifference told Astrid in a way she couldn't fully understand that Heather didn't enjoy offerings of sympathy.
Taking a bite of her stew, Astrid let the warm broth of chicken slide over her taste-buds. Her past two meals out in the wild world had been overshadowed by fear and suspicion, so the novelty of the spices and flavors that her mother had never brought into the tower hadn't been fully savored. She took this peaceful moment to enjoy the seasonings and broiling. Astrid couldn't put words to the tastes, but she certainly appreciated them. After she finally swallowed, Astrid wiped her mouth across the back of her hand and returned her voice to the conversation. "Must have been nice having Dagur around. I heard you didn't know you were siblings, though. How's that work?"
A patron called for a refill, and Heather hopped to her feet, grabbed her pitcher, took two quick steps over to the table, and topped off the thin man's mug. She must have offered a light joke, judging by the round of chuckles echoing from the table's occupants. A moment later, she had returned to her seat. "I was abandoned by Oswald the Agreeable and adopted by my parents. Lived most of my life before getting kidnapped and realizing that Oswald only abandoned one of his children."
Astrid's jaw dropped. "Seriously? Big mistake. Did Dagur recognize you when he saw you?"
Shaking her head and pursing her lips, Heather grabbed a mug off her tray and took a swig. She offered one to Astrid, who refused, having seen enough poor reasoning spurred by alcohol in the past twenty-four hours to be wary of the stuff. Shrugging, Heather took another swig. "Dagur was young when I disappeared. He barely remembered me. But yes, when it comes to Oswald-" and she smirked, to which Astrid mirrored happily "-it was one of his many mistakes."
"Are we talking about my mistakes?" Hiccup stood in front of them, eyes wildly conflicted between fearful confusion (the axe) and nervous mirth (Heather and Astrid getting along). "Because I don't think I've ever made one."
Astrid opened her mouth, but Heather shot an answer forth very quickly: "We were, in fact, talking about your mistakes. Watch yourself, Haddock." Years of practice with her mother helped Astrid quell the bubbling laughter, instead steeling her face into a small, secret-bearing smirk and raised eyebrows.
Bewilderment took over Hiccup, with wide eyes, a slight step backwards, and arms rapidly crossing and uncrossing themselves. Astrid spared the smallest glance to Heather, who returned the look with an added wink. Barely restraining laughter, Astrid slid the uneaten bowl of fresh stew toward Hiccup. "Hungry?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, shaking away the bewilderment - or at least the outward appearance of it. After surveying the two benches, he opted to remain standing as he wolfed down the bowl's contents. Between bites, Hiccup managed, "We do want to get a move on, though, if we want a good view of those lanterns."
Heather's eyes rolled. "You still have a lot of time."
"Not if we want a good view!"
Someone from across the bar yowled for a refill, and Heather grimaced. Pushing herself to her feet and swinging her legs back over the bench. "For a second, I thought you were trying to get part of Corran's speech," she said, then directed her next gripe to Astrid: "Same boring thing every year."
"Come on, he just misses his daughter!" Hiccup protested. When Heather just glared at him, he sighed. "Fine, yes, and it's a boring speech. But what do you expect? Tears? Some new memory of her that he'll just share with the whole country?"
Shrugging, Heather re-balanced her tray onto the tips of her fingers. "Why give a speech at all? It's depressing. Today's a day of celebration."
Hiccup had taken the opportunity to shovel stew down his throat. He took a moment to chew and swallow before responding, "I guess."
"If you'll excuse me, Hiccup, Astrid - some of us, unlike Mystery Boy here, have actual jobs so we can afford to live." Pointing from Astrid to Hiccup and back, Heather added, "If he gives you any trouble, you just let me know."
"Absolutely." Astrid felt warmth and peace roll through her core as she and Heather smiled at each other, chins raised.
"Wha- trouble?!" Hiccup sputtered, even as Heather disappeared back into the tavern's chaos. "We've been just fine so far!" he yelled after her. Heather's only response was a shake of her head.
Astrid nearly choked on her stew as a laugh bubbled out of her. "'Just fine'?" she repeated.
Pointing his spoon at her, Hiccup replied, "Hey, we're alive!"
Guffawing, she swallowed another savory bit of stew. "Do I have time to finish this?"
Hiccup nodded and hummed in affirmation as he heaped his food into his mouth. He remained standing while they ate in private silence and observed the tavern around them. A brave or foolish sailor had ventured from the safe quarters of his brotherhood over to the shield maidens' corner, where a burly ginger warrior woman was offering him a smirk and a challenge to arm-wrestling. Bucket had joined Heather in serving bowls and platters to customers, even as two squealing children swung from his thick forearms. A young adventurer had leaped onto the bar to strum some odd instrument and lead a few drunk patrons in song. Chaos surrounded them, but Astrid felt a warm peace as she sat in its midst. Whether this change in her emotions since the Moldy Cabbage was due to the cheerier atmosphere or her own increased confidence, she couldn't determine. Perhaps both factored into the reality.
Hiccup finished his meal only a few bites before Astrid did. As soon as she scraped the last bit of carrot from the bottom of the bowl, Hiccup slid the ceramic from her fingers and scurried to the bar, where he deposited their empty dishes and gleaming spoons. When he returned, he raised his eyebrows at her, and she nodded to confirm that she was ready to disembark.
Outside, twilight glowed at one edge of the sky, and voluminous clouds of purple hues stretched across the expanse at a steady pace. The majority of the crowds trudged, skipped, and strode toward the castle. Hiccup led Astrid in the same direction for a while. Only a hundred yards from the castle did he branch off onto a street that appeared to run parallel to the shoreline.
"Heather said something about a speech?" Astrid asked.
"Yeah, but you're not missing much. We need to get to the spot soon."
"What's so perfect about this spot?"
He scratched at the back of his head and shrugged,a secretive smile on his face.
"You're seriously not going to tell me?" she said, only half-joking.
"Oh, come on, have I ever steered you wrong?" His words too held an edge of seriousness.
She raised her eyebrows. "Well, you haven't steered me... right."
Hiccup gasped and waved his hands around. "I got you this far!"
"We got me this far."
"Yes! And I'm included in the 'we'!"
The banter lifting Astrid's spirits higher and higher stopped as a strange, deep sound echoed in the air. The people around them hushed for a moment before increasing their paces toward the castle and breaking into cheers of anticipation.
Hiccup glanced toward the castle, then to Astrid. "Corran's speech," he explained.
She had stopped and was moving toward the castle herself. He rushed to her side. "We really don't have time-"
"Just a few seconds," she insisted.
The cheers subsided as a faint voice echoed across the crowd. Astrid ducked into a thin alleyway and under a clothesline. From her vantage point behind what appeared to be a large extended family, she could barely see the dark-haired figure standing alone on a stone balcony. She could safely assume the figure was Jarl Corran, but his words were too faint to hear in their entirety. She strained for a few moments to catch snippets: Alyse. Eighteenth birthday. Our daughter.
Hiccup's breathy whispers at her ear made her jump. "He's talking slow, so we have time, but you'll have to trust me about this timing. We can't wait."
With some surprising disappointment, Astrid nodded. After all, she could barely hear Corran. After casting one last glance the lone jarl's way, Astrid followed Hiccup as he led her out of the city.
Hiccup had heard the speech what seemed like a hundred times. He'd spent most of his childhood hearing Corran's somber oration echo through the castle's hallways. Nobody ever joined Corran on the balcony for the speech. In some measure of respect that Hiccup had never entirely understood, Alick always stood back in the shadows to watch Corran's ritual from behind. As painful as it was for Corran to speak of his long-lost daughter, Alyse's pain manifested in a pallid face and weak limbs; she never had the strength to remain by his side for the entire somber occasion. Alyse only joined him with their lantern at the end of his speech which, as the years trudged by, ambled slower and slower out of his mouth.
All those years he had struggled with some mixture of elation at the day's festivities as well as guilt over Corran and Alyse's clear suffering that only the castle occupants witnessed. He guessed that the couple lived with a similar struggle as well. They welcomed the country's celebration of their daughter even as they mourned her absence.
Once, in his more ornery preteen years, Hiccup had asked his father what he thought had become of the lost princess. A dark sadness shadowed his father's face as he quietly answered, "If she was alive, son, whoever took her would have asked us for money or power." The snarky, irreverent mood Hiccup had been harboring up until that moment had immediately fallen away. He had spent the rest of the day somberly obliging his curiosity; when the girl was taken, Alick and Corran had still been waiting to announce the princess's name. They had still never shared it. Trying to guess it - and trying to picture happier, more open versions of Corran and Alyse - had taken up the rest of that day.
All these thoughts and memories were slowly being overtaken by spiking nerves and anticipation. He walked even faster. Astrid lagged slightly behind him, her head swinging around to take in everything around her. Hiccup's anxiety that they wouldn't make it to "the spot" halted only in the face of Astrid's excitement. He couldn't rush her too much. She had been waiting for this moment for eighteen years. Hiccup remembered from the conversation he'd overheard between Astrid and her mother - a conversation that felt like it had taken place eons ago rather than yesterday - that today was Astrid's birthday. Sure, he'd just met her, and yeah, he was trying to not rush the friendship. He still wanted to make her birthday amazing.
For totally not-selfish reasons.
Hiccup's thoughts distracted him enough that a few seconds of walking passed before he realized Astrid had stopped. Doubling back to her, he followed her gaze to a sight that immediately flushed his own face.
Under a shadowed awning stood two figures only a few years older than Hiccup. Utterly ignoring the festivities, their foreheads pressed together lightly. The shorter figure, a warm grin alight on her russet brown skin, pushed her long, dark braids behind her shoulders before entwining her fingers in the dark hair of her taller, wax-pale companion. He returned her smile before pulling her forward into a kiss.
Hiccup, both polite and awkward with public displays of affection, turned his head away, but Astrid watched, her face unreadable. "What are they doing?"
No, no, he definitely couldn't try to give a scientific explanation for that. "Uh, they're- uh... kissing."
"On the lips?"
Her eyes were still on the couple, so Hiccup indulged himself with a soft slap to his face. "Right, yeah, that's when you... are liking a person a lot. So you kiss each other. On the lips. Yeah."
She whipped her head away and took off toward the gate. For once, Hiccup struggled to match her pace. He would not be continuing this conversation.
He remembered to pull his hood up again as they passed through the western gate in the wall, but the guards' attention was affixed on Corran's distant speech rather than any passers-by.
Hiccup believed that, anyway, until a heavy hand landed on his shoulder as one of the guards - Mikhael, of course it would be Mikhael - rumbled, "Hold on."
Hiccup tried to bolt forward, but Mikhael had already grabbed Hiccup's other arm and spun him around. The other guard, Gaulton, joined him as they both glowered at Hiccup.
Gaulton's accent thickened his words as he growled, "Well, well. If it isn't the exact fellow we've all been looking for, your-"
"-In big trouble? Yeah, I figured," Hiccup yelped. With that, he slid out of Mikhael's grasp, turned and sprinted. "Run!" he yelled, hoping it was obvious to Astrid that he was speaking to her rather than the guards.
"Hey!" Gaulton protested as Astrid and Hiccup sprinted. "Mikhael, get him!"
Always a man of few if any words, Mikhael grunted in response. Hiccup heard the thundering footfalls behind him. Between breaths, Hiccup wheezed to himself, "Is it... also.. Chase Hiccup... Day? Great, just... another ridiculous holiday... I have to... suffer through!"
"Tell me about it!" Astrid managed to yell as she sprinted beside him, habitually gathering her braid in her arms while still managing to brandish her trusty frying pan and match Hiccup's pace.
She's amazing.
But she's always amazing. Now is not the greatest time to stop and think about that. Survive first.
His thoughts so thoroughly distracted him that he and Astrid almost collided. Upon rounding a patch of trees, she grabbed his shoulder and dragged both of them into a massive pile of leaves.
Hiccup held his breath and pretended he couldn't feel spiders investigating his skin with prickly curiosity. A brief shiver from Astrid indicated that the spiders weren't leaving her alone either. Judging by the oaf's thunderous footsteps receding, Mikhael hadn't seen or heard their fall. They waited for minutes masquerading as eternities. Mikhael came stomping back past them, and Hiccup imagined from the guard's heavy steps that he was incredibly peeved with Gaulton and probably Hiccup.
That was, like most of the unfortunate incidents that he found himself in, going to be future Hiccup's problem.
After waiting another long minute for Mikhael to completely recede back to the gate, Hiccup leaped to his feet. Astrid immediately followed suit, and they both frantically slapped at their ankles and wrists, shook at the folds in their clothes, and ran fingers through their hair. The spiders seemed as eager to leave as the humans were to remove them.
After a moment of quiet personal protests, Astrid finally voiced her concerns. "How is... wherever you're taking us... the best spot?" He wasn't surprised at the worry in her voice - rather, he was glad he wasn't hearing suspicion.
"Trust me for just a little bit longer. If you don't like it, you have my full permission to give me more skull dents with that frying pan."
"I'll hold you to that." She didn't sound like she meant it. Maybe that was wishful thinking on Hiccup's part, though. Nevertheless, they began walking again.
After a few minutes, Astrid posed another question: "Why are you in trouble with the guards?"
Hiccup sighed. "Remember how intent Snotlout and his cronies were on getting that crown?" He reminded himself of Astrid's lack of experience with words such as crown and clarified, "The crown in question is that fancy metal circle you found in my satchel."
"How did you know I-"
"Astrid, I'm not an idiot, so I know you aren't either." Yes, that got a smile. One point for Hiccup. "Anyway... imagine me, just having a nice afternoon in the Moldy Cabbage, drinking my sorrows away-" That was definitely more honesty than he'd intended to include in his explanation. "-when Snotlout approaches me and starts bragging about how he's managed to snag the lost princess's crown from the castle. You've known Snotlout long enough to guess how seriously I took him. Until, of course, he pulls the crown out of his bag and asks if I'll be his messenger to the jarls so they'll pay him to get the crown back to them."
She scoffed in disgust. "He stole the princess's crown right before her birthday?"
"I'd love to say he's sadistic like that, but in all honesty, he probably didn't make the connection that the crown would be worth so much more right around this time." Hiccup shook his head, sharing her offense at Snotlout's obtuse cruelty, before continuing. "So I ask to see it, tell him I need to see if it's real or fake. He's... Snotlout enough to hand it over, and I make a break for it, I get away, I decide to hide in a tower, and-" he waved at her comically, and she gave a little wave back as Hiccup ended his explanation by sarcastically saying, "And you ever so kindly greeted me with some homemade brain damage."
Astrid's brows furrowed as she processed his explanation. "That still doesn't explain why you're in trouble." She skirted around the puddle that Hiccup had ever so observantly stumbled through.
He dipped his head in acknowledgment. "I'm sort of... in charge of the crown's safekeeping. Honorary title. Didn't mean much until, y'know, some oats-for-brains somehow managed to steal it."
"Yeah, how did that idiot do that?"
"I suspect the credit belongs to the twins way more than it belongs to him."
"The twins?"
"His cronies. Ruffnut and Tuffnut."
"Seriously!?"
Hiccup turned to stare at her upon hearing her incredulous outburst. "What?"
"Heather and Cassandra are the only normal names I've heard this entire time!"
"You're awfully judgy of the world's naming customs for somebody who's only been out of your tower for like... twenty four hours." She punched him. He laughed. But her silence conceded the point, and they continued on in lighthearted silence.
Finally, Hiccup spotted a familiar craggle of particularly dense and wild shrubbery. He opened his mouth to tell Astrid to close her eyes, and then he decided to not push his luck. "Okay! Here we are!" he said, immediately wincing at the clear tone of false confidence invading his words.
At the sound of Hiccup's voice, a low purr rolled across the forest, and Toothless bounced into their line of sight a moment later. He greeted Hiccup as if they hadn't seen each other in days rather than approximately forty-five minutes. Hiccup let himself be bowled over and covered in the standard slobbery dragon kisses with only a few vocal protests. After a few moments of draconic affection, Hiccup gently shoved his best friend's nose away, scrambled back onto his feet, and swung himself into the leather saddle atop Toothless's back. Only then did he turn to see Astrid: frozen, glaring at him, fists clenched, frying pan at the ready. Hiccup deflated.
"Absolutely not."
Even with all his planning, he had no idea what to say.
Astrid started pacing, swinging her frying pan around as she gestured wildly. Hey, she got that habit from me. The thought was a pleasant but insufficient distraction. Hiccup tuned into her rant.
"I can handle you being friends with a dragon. I can handle you being some sort of dragon rescuer - that's okay, that's actually pretty cool. But you can't be serious about this! I am not riding that dragon."
"Astrid-"
"Is this some kind of a joke? It wants to kill me, Hiccup. You can't tell me you haven't seen how it-"
"He."
"-how it looks at me!" In moments like these, Hiccup questioned if Toothless could actually understand human language - namely because of how offended Toothless looked right now, with his ears back, eyes and pupils narrowed, and claws silting through the dirt.
Astrid didn't seem to notice or take a breath from her tirade. "Maybe I've trusted you a little! Maybe too much! I followed you out here, and now you want me to ride on a wild animal that definitely wants me dead!" She halted her pacing to point her frying pan at him. "But you know what? Maybe this one is on me. I told you to stop asking so many questions. I should have said, 'Don't ask me any questions unless you're actually crazy enough to think I would even consider riding on a dragon!'"
"He won't do anything to you," Hiccup managed to interject. "Especially not with me riding him with you!"
"It can easily just dump you off!"
"He would never!" Hiccup protested, and Toothless punctuated his objection with an equally offended grunt.
"There's no way, Hiccup. Absolutely no way."
Hiccup stared at her, and, for the first time since he'd met her, he realized he was angry. Not once on this entire trip had he failed her or betrayed her trust. At every turn, he'd worked in her best interest, respected her boundaries, and tried to make her feel as safe as he possibly could. Her mother, on the other hand, had most definitely manipulated Astrid into staying in the tower. Someone as naturally fearless, intelligent, and easily adaptive as Astrid should have never had a problem in this world, but her mother had twisted facts and belittled her until Astrid doubted her own clear capability.
And yet Astrid trusted her mother more.
In these moments of anger, rare as they may be, he'd learned to grab hold of the burn tightly, let it flow through him... and then release it to watch it evaporate into nothingness. Not once had his anger served him well - not in interactions with his father, with dragons, with trappers and pirates, or with his few friends. Anger certainly wouldn't help anything with Astrid.
Instead, Hiccup reached out his hand. "Just let me show you."
Her shaking head slowed into stillness. She stared at him, her own anger heating her eyes.
"Please, Astrid," he said.
A moment passed.
Then, in a move Hiccup would be analyzing for months to come, Astrid grabbed his hand and swung herself behind him into Toothless's saddle.
Author's Note:
Happy New Year, everyone! Long time, no see! I've got some wonderful chapters queued up for y'all. A huge thank you to the people who have been faithfully following along - you really do keep the inspiration thriving.
Also, shout-out to Liv and Charles for being great (albeit thoroughly pestered) beta-readers. Charles did edits on this chapter. I ignored 50% of his edits. Gotta love the writing process.
Anyways... Heather and Astrid becoming friends! Hiccup having to explain PDA to Astrid (poor guy, send thoughts and prayers)! And of course, up next, the romantic flight! Plus, some delightful foreshadowing. Did you catch it?
I started a tumblr devoted just to writing, where I'll put helpful links, references, etc. for this story. If you're crazy enough to spend time on the hellsite that is tumblr, check out bannisterroadkill & say hello!
See y'all next week!
