Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! SO Sorry for the 4 month delay on this, but I wanted to make sure everything was how I wanted it, and I was in the process of doing online coursework for a new job. Despite that, a HUGE thank you to all of you who read my work! I appreciate it, and I'm honored to provide entertainment!

Just so all of you know, I will be making tweaks to the previous chapters to coincide with the plot work I've done while working on this chapter, and I plan on rewriting chapter 4, so once that happens, don't freak out! The changed chapter four will fit better with the plot and overall story.

Glossary:

karve – the typical Viking longship

veslinger - "puny wretch"; a Viking insult

Ulfbert – a Viking sword known for its ability to bend instead of break

darts – aka javelins/the ancient meaning of the word

Njord – the Norse god of the seas and patron of sailors

Frigga – Norse goddess of the family

CHAPTER SIX: I HAVE WATCHED YOU DOUBT

September 21st

Astrid stood on the docks to New Berk harbor, her family's extra potash supply in clay jars at her feet. Hopefully she'd be able to sell it, but even if she did, she knew it wouldn't buy much; cheap cloth at the most. Hoping for food would be pushing her luck.

Her heart fluttered with nervous energy. She put her hand to her eyes, shielding them as the rising sun burst from the horizon, the once gray blue light of early morning shifting from dim to bright, shimmering over the waves of the sea as a small band of ships sailed into the harbor.

Captain's voices rang over the air as they called out orders to their men, the ships creaking and the sails snapping in the wind.

Astrid glanced around, searching for Hiccup, his trademark auburn hair and slight limp a dead giveaway. Thankfully, he was nowhere to be seen.

She had woken an hour before dawn, Hiccup's side of the bed empty, gone to the forge, finding solace in the work, as he had done every morning since the rubble from the fire had been cleared.

A brief ache pricked her heart. She missed him. She missed waking up curled around him, her face buried in the back of his neck, his lean but strong form beneath her, his scent filling her nostrils.

They had gone to bed angry. Not frustrated, but angry. Astrid swallowed, stemming the tears that threatened to spill. They hadn't kissed, hadn't embraced, hadn't said "I love you", even though they knew the other did. Their good nights were stated rather than wished, silence following the rustling of bed covers.

She remembered swallowing angry tears as the events of the day played over in her mind, stifling sobs as she waited for Hiccup's breathing beside her to even out in sleep.

She wished to Frigga she knew of some way to reach him, some way to get him to listen. Their growing harshness towards each other was affecting him, she could see it. He looked lost; his eyes roaming for an answer, his face bewildered. He often searched for her, only for his face to change into hardened resentment when he saw her answer.

She didn't want to go behind his back. Her heart flared with guilt, knowing she was purposefully deceiving him. She hated how he looked when he knew he'd been deceived. His eyes, their striking deep green that normally sparkled with light, would fade. The wide, gap-toothed smile she had come to love would turn down, reverting to that thin set line, closed. His face guarded, but yearning, as it had always been before Toothless. His shoulders would slump and he would retreat inwards, keeping his head down as he walked, to make himself smaller, less of a nuisance. Crestfallen.

She didn't want to go behind his back…but he had left her no choice. Who would find out the truth if not him? Who would get to the bottom of whatever this problem with the Picts was if not him?

Too much was unsolved. Too much was unanswered.

"Good Morning, Chieftess!"

Astrid snapped out of her reverie as one of the ship captains called from the karve's long deck. She smiled and acknowledged him.

"Good morning, Laki," she replied. She gestured to the ships sliding into the harbor. "Njord blessed the voyages, I see! You're here at sunrise!"

"Indeed he did, Chieftess! Strong winds and smooth seas the whole way; of course, Jotun Islandonly being a two day's sail away makes for a faster journey as well. The winds were so strong I could swear we were flying! Imagine that!" He tossed her the rigging rope.

Astrid laughed, catching the rope and tying it to the nearest piling. "There wasa time when we did!"

Laki laughed like she'd told the funniest joke in the world. "That's a good one, Chieftess!" he sighed, "New Berk sure knows how to tell a good tale!"

Astrid covered her disappointment with another laugh, finishing off the knot. "Yes, we sure do!"

The weight of knowing that the dragons still existed, but that everyone else had forgotten pressed.

Could generations of fighting dragons and then six years of riding them pass from the mind so easily? Granted, other tribes hadn't had the magnanimous change that Old Berk did, but dragons had been such a huge part of Archipelago life…it hurt that so many no longer remembered. But what hurt worse was the belief that the dragons had never existed in the first place.

New Berk—or what was left of it—had been lucky to have many storytellers, Hiccup and Fishlegs the most prominent amongst them, keeping the awe, the wonder, and the fascination alive for the youngsters, elder members recreating the times before Hiccup had been chief.

A sad recollection hit her. Hiccup had not told a dragon story for years. The last time she remembered him telling one was shortly after Nuff turned eleven, when he had started to become more interested in the typical Viking things—battle, showing off physical strength, and weaponry. The ache deepened as she recalled the loss of half of the elders in the fire. Fewer stories will be told now…

"What has you at the docks so early, Chieftess, if I may say so?" Laki continued.

Astrid nodded towards a small karve to the right of Laki. "I'm heading off to the Northern Markets."

"Any particular reason you're headed there, Chieftess?"

Astrid held up a medium-sized jar of potash. "Trade," she replied, "Since the razing, we have more potash than we need. I figured I could trade what I can for needed supplies. Every little bit helps."

"Do you think the Picts would trade food for that, Chieftess? Thor knows they're well-stocked."

"I will do my best, Laki. Hopefully they'll pay more respect to me personally than they have my village."

"Begging your pardon, but why did they raze New Berk? You weren't making trouble."

"No, we weren't, but all the same, I don't know why."

"But surely Chief Haddock knows? He met with them throughout the summer. Was there a dispute going on? Chief Bjorklund never could get much of an answer from him after the meetings."

Astrid tried not to let her resentment and disappointment show. Everyone was asking the same questions as she.

Now that she thought about it, what had gone on during those meetings? Out of the twelve that had taken place over the summer, she had only attended four…

A memory struck. Not all of the meetings were Archipelago-wide. Hiccup had met one-on-one with Wulf, the Pictish head chief, to discuss the relationship betwixt the two of them since Hiccup was honorary head chief of the entire Archipelago, and the authority on Archipelago relations. They had met three times, two of which Astrid had attended in order to help assess the reasons behind the overfishing problem.

Was Wulf the one behind New Berk's razing? The meetings with Wulf she had attended with Hiccup had been "secret", so as not to rouse suspicion amongst the other tribes, but now that she thought about it, something had always been off about the meetings, like there was an air of guilt about them for taking place…

Astrid made a mental note to herself to search through the records room in Great Hall to find the meeting logs, both Archipelago-wide and the three "secret" ones.

"I didn't attend the meetings," she lied. Only the tribal Chiefs, heirs (provided they were old enough) and military leaders had attended the archipelago-wide meetings. "We were so busy trying to stock up and deal with our own that I guess the answers were forgotten." She gave Laki a mischievous wink. "Maybe the Picts will spill their reasons at the market."

Laki chuckled. "Loki knows they sure like to cause mischief." He turned and began walking down the gangplank. "Have a safe trip, Chieftess! May Njord bless your voyage."

"Thank you, Laki."

As soon as he had left, Astrid pulled out her notebook and scribbled.

Ask Hiccup about the one-on-one meetings with Wulf.

She stopped. A wave of resentment pulsed through her as she remembered his solo announcement yesterday, one he should have made with her.

You should have consulted me, she thought. Astrid crossed out her note. Fine. If he wasn't going to consult her on matters of war, then she wouldn't consult him on this.

Hurt flared alongside guilt. Going to him for everything was second nature. Half of her screamed to run to the forge and tell him everything that she was thinking, beg him to see reason, to come with her, to understand just how dire a decision not going to war was…

She put her notebook and pencil away and put her hand to her head, emotions threatening to overtake her.

"Thor help me…"

"Not sure how busy he is, but I can help!"

Astrid turned to see Heather come up to her, her family's small cart loaded with large clay jars of potash.

Other Archipelago tribesmen and women left their ships with all manner of goods in hand—tools, tents for temporary shelter, food and clothes—that was one reason to thank the gods for the Archipelago Peace; everyone was willing to lend a hand to a tribesman in need.

Astrid smiled. "You made it."

"Barely," Heather replied, "Anika was making breakfast as I left. I had to sneak out pretty quickly in order to avoid the boys climbing all over me. They like to charge the second I'm up."

Astrid chuckled. "They take after their mom."

Heather smiled. "Indeed, all too often. I'm hoping they've got more of Fishlegs in them and that they'll mellow out as they get older, but for now it's like reliving my childhood with Dagur before he literally went berserk. At this point, Anika's the only one who purely takes after him in nature. Sigrid and Freya both take after the both of us, and Thora, well, she's my mini-me."

"I wish I could say the same about Zephyr, but I love that she takes after Hiccup. They have the same inquisitive mind, always asking questions and trying to figure everything out…" she trailed off. Hiccup's not any of those things now…

Heather placed her hand on Astrid's shoulder. "I told everyone last night that you and I would be going to the Northern Markets to try and trade what we could, and no one questioned it."

Astrid nodded. "I told Hiccup the same…not that he noticed. I left a note for Zephyr and Nuffink saying the same in case they forgot and wondered where I am."

"I'm sorry things are rough between you."

A moment of silence passed until Astrid spoke again. "If Hiccup finds out what we're doing…what I'm doing…I don't know if I have the courage to face that level of dejection…but we need answers…"

Heather squeezed her shoulder. "What can I do?"

Astrid cleared her throat, and blinked back tears. "Just be there? Help me figure this out? Have my back the next time we argue? It would help a lot, knowing someone stands with me."

Heather nodded. "I'll be there, I promise. You're my best friend…and I agree that something needs to be done. It's not often that Hiccup is wrong, but when he is—"

"It's like Drago Bludvist all over again!" Astrid replied, her voice rising up with surprise. "Now I know we're on the right track."

Heather creased her eyebrows. "How so?"

"I'm the one going off. Hiccup's tried dealing with this the way he wanted to deal with Drago—peaceably. But the Picts—like Drago—aren't having it. Old Berk was iced over and the dragons stolen as punishment for resisting, the Picts have stolen our fish and burned New Berk to the ground as a result of Hiccup's leniency."

"You sound awfully sure of that for having no proof."

"Well, we're going to the Northern Markets today. Who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky."

The captain of the karve that was headed to the Northern Markets called over to them, saying he was about to set sail.

Astrid combined her load with Heather's and they pulled the cart onto the ship. Before long, other passengers had arrived, and soon they were on their way, the busy port and island of New Berk growing smaller as the wind pushed them through the waves, the morning sun fading into the clouds.

Astrid took a deep breath, the cold air, soft spray and off-kilter swoosh of the waves washed the tension away. This must be how Zephyr feels every time she sails, she thought.

She closed her eyes and listened to the waves rush and slap against the hull. The rhythmic combination reminded her of flying on Stormfly.

She smiled, remembering how the air around them would glide, cool and thin, as they wove between sea stacks, trees, and targets, always practicing sharp turns and spine shots. Always battle-ready.

Astrid stretched her arms up, the motion calling up the thousands of early morning training runs, up before everyone else, practicing every maneuver and tactic until it was memory, until all she had to make were little adjustments, little signals—a light squeeze of her thighs in the saddle, a tap just above Stormfly's ear, a brush along the ridge of her horns—that would call up the right move for the right time.

The karve dipped, jolting her from her thoughts, reminding her that nothing this time was right. She sighed and rested her head on her hand.

Footsteps sounded behind her. She glanced to the right to see Heather stand next to her, resting her arms on the railing.

"Perfect day for flying," she said.

Astrid nodded, but said nothing.

Heather nudged her. "We'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry."

Astrid removed her hand from her head and let it plop onto the railing. "That's not what I'm worried about." She swallowed her emotions as she looked at Heather, but her voice cracked anyway. "I'm worried about Hiccup…about the two of us…"

Heather gave her her full attention. "Is this about the announcement yesterday?"

Astrid nodded. "It revolves around that…did you hear the argument we had in the arena the day before?"

"I heard that it happened, but not what it was about. Was that when you were trying to tell him about the Deathgripper Acid?"

"Yes," Astrid nodded as she pulled out her notebook and handed it to Heather. "This is what I was going to show him…what I wanted to show him."

Heather read through the notebook pages, her eyebrows raising higher in surprise after each page.

"When I tried to explain he said, and I quote, 'I don't have time to go chasing after a hunch, Astrid'," she continued.

Heather clenched her teeth, her face growing warm with anger. She slapped the notebook shut and handed it back to Astrid.

"What in Thor's name is he thinking? He used to be all over this kind of stuff! He would have been the first one out there! I ought to smack him upside the head for being such a veslinger."

Astrid smacked Heather with the notebook on the shoulder. "Watch it, he's still my husband."

Heather exhaled through her nose, frustrated. "This is so unlike him. He should be the one making this trip, not you. He should be planning for war, not hiding in the forge finishing off tools or in the records room staring at our dwindling food supplies."

"You think I don't know that?" Astrid said, her voice shaking. "He won't listen to me. Me. You saw what happened yesterday after the announcement. He walked away. He won't talk to me. Hiccup hasn't given me any other choice but to purposefully deceive him because for some unknown reason he won't do what he's always done; he won't figure it out."

"Why?" Heather demanded. "Why the Hel not?"

"I don't know!" Astrid choked as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I don't know. And it kills me that he won't tell me." She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. "My best guess is that it has something to do with the Archipelago Peace, but I haven't been able to get anything out of him. It's like going back to before Toothless, when all we were was at odds because he was so different. I don't know how to remind him of who he is…"

Heather wrapped her arm around Astrid and hugged her. "I didn't know things were this bad; I could've done something…"

Astrid gave a wry chuckle. "It's not like we argue in public. It was easy to shrug off because we both figured we'd mend it sooner or later, but now we're divided…I can't remember the last time we were divided on something, if we ever were."

Heather hugged Astrid. Silence hung between them for a moment, the only sound the wind in the sails and the waves slapping the hull.

"So, what's the plan?" Heather asked.

"To prove that the Picts are behind everything; prove that they have Deathgripper Acid, that they burned New Berk, that they overfished the waters, that they attacked us unprovoked…all of it."

"And if you are right? If all that turns out to be true, what will you do then?"

"Try my damndest to get Hiccup to see it, even if I have to drag him there myself, convince him that war is the right course of action…hopefully without dividing us further apart."

LATER

Hiccup stood on the docks, watching the fishing boats slide in and out of the harbor, the strong breezes billowing the karve sails, the overcast early afternoon sky an ashen grey.

He breathed in deep of the salt air, exhaling in one long gust, the constant weight of responsibility lessening for a moment.

Thoughts of last night flit through his mind. Astrid had been angry with his decision, of course, but it was the only option he had. A pinprick of guilt stuck, but he shoved it away. I'm tired of her second-guessing every decision I make.

He watched a small fishing boat sail into the harbor and pull up to the pier next to him, and Zephyr step from it onto the docks, the breeze blowing her long auburn hair behind her. She smiled as she saw him.

"Hey, Dad!" she said, "What brings you here?"

"You do," Hiccup replied as he walked up, "We haven't spoken much since you came home; I haven't asked you about your travels."

Zephyr caught a bundle of fishing nets thrown to her from the longboat. "You've been busy," she tossed the nets onto the docks, "We all have been." She brushed her hands off as she looked at him. "Not a whole lot of breathing room lately."

Hiccup gave a pained smile as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Still, it's no excuse for making time." He nodded towards the beach. "Walk with me?"

Zephyr smiled, big and toothy. "Always, Dad."

Hiccup wrapped his arm around his daughter as they walked along the shore. Small waves rose and fell, sand and bits of shells swirling in the foam, the sand crunching like snow beneath their boots.

Zephyr glanced at her father's peg leg as they walked. "You never did finish telling me what happened to your leg."

Hiccup looked at her. "Didn't I? I could have sworn I did. You asked about it often enough."

Zephyr chuckled and shook her head. "We kept getting interrupted or distracted. Was it Toothless?"

"Yes," Hiccup replied, "He…bit it off trying to pull me into his wings after the Red Death dragon knocked me out."

"How did you find out?"

"The scar marks at the bottom, right where my calf would be, looked remarkably similar to bite marks that matched a certain Night Fury's teeth. Plus, he told me."

"How?"

"He reenacted it. It took awhile to get used to having a peg leg—they caused me pain if I wore them for too long—the skin would chafe and it would sting terribly. Toothless and I were alone one day and my leg was bothering me, so I removed it and massaged the stump for awhile, oiling it to keep the chafing to a minimum. I noticed Toothless looked despondent. I asked him what was wrong, but of course, dragons being prideful creatures, I had to finagle it out of him. He reenacted the whole battle with the Red Death, proving his point by gently resting his teeth right on top of the scars."

"How did you handle that?"

"I forgave him. It was the only thing I could do. I'd disabled his tail after all. Ah, it was only fair, I suppose."

Zephyr cocked her head. "Why didn't you just say so? I could've handled it."

Hiccup raised his eyebrows. "That knowledge wasn't appropriate for an eight-year-old."

"You could've told me when I got older."

He squeezed her lightly. "You'd fallen in love with the sea by then; you weren't interested in dragon stories anymore."

Zephyr leaned her head on his shoulder, then suddenly snapped back up and looked into his face, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. "I did see a Seashocker though, both at the beginning of my seafaring and on the way home."

Hiccup stopped walking and faced her, his own heart pounding with excitement. "You did?!"

Zephyr nodded "It was like they knew I was there, like they'd been waiting for me."

"Did they surface?"

"One did; it nearly knocked over the karve. I'd forgotten how beautiful they were; how huge, how amazing, how powerful. Speaking of dragons, other peoples have them too."

Hiccup's mind reeled. "Really? I'd wondered about that. Where?"

"From the Far East; they have dark hair like the ravens and eyes shaped like almonds—"

"What's an almond?"

"It's a nut—" Zephyr looked down at her hip pouch and opened it, rummaging her hand through it. "I have some in my pouch here—" she removed her hand and held it out to him, a small number of bark colored almost half-moon shapes resting in her palm. "They're native to a hot dry land called the Middle East. We were headed there next when the Terror Mail came about the razing. They're great for munching on and they keep well. A handful stems hunger for awhile. It's why I brought so much of them home, I didn't know how bad off we would be."

Hiccup looked skeptically at the nuts.

Zephyr chuckled. "Don't worry, it's safe to eat."

Hiccup took one and popped it into his mouth. The taste was both woody and buttery. He raised his brows in surprise. "Not bad."

"They taste best with dried fruit."

"It should help this winter…"

Both paused for a moment, the situation at hand sinking further in.

"Are we really risking starvation?" Zephyr asked.

Hiccup nodded. "We are, and I wish it weren't the case." He shook his head to clear it and turned back to the topic at hand. "So, these other people who have dragons?"

Zephyr smiled as she wrapped her arm around his waist as they continued walking, the gray waves of the sea slapping the shore.

"Well, I don't know if they "have" dragons in the sense that we do—did—but they are worshipped. We were in Byzantium in some part of the city where they had chosen to settle and got to witness some kind of festival dedicated to dragons. It was fascinating!" She removed her arm from around her father and gestured as she continued. "They'd made a long paper puppet of their dragon on stilts and wove it around and through the crowds, making it look like it slithered. They also had many lanterns filled with light and color, so many gorgeous patterns—nothing like we have here—oh, and they set off packages of fire!"

Hiccup cocked an eyebrow."'Packages of fire?'"

"It's a little hard to explain, but you would've loved it! If memory serves me, they called them fireworks. They managed to pack this gray pebbly powder into packages shaped like spear heads, and shoot them into the sky. You had to cover your ears when they went up because they shrieked so bad, but then, after loud booms like thunder, colors would burst into the night sky—all of them—reds, blues, yellows, greens, purples…some would sparkle and snap after they burst, whereas others would just shimmer. The purple ones reminded me of your description of Toothless's plasma blast."

"Please tell me you brought some home with you?"

"Oh, Rangvald Thorsten made sure of that, but I insisted they stay at our house since Aunt Ruff and Uncle Tuff can't be trusted…and quite frankly, neither can he."

"A wise decision."

"You would've loved Byzantium, Dad. There were so many inventions I couldn't keep track of them all." She patted the small sketchbook attached to her belt. "I copied as many as I could in here, along with how they worked, but some of them you had to see to believe."

"What foreign land struck you most?"

"Oh…Visigoth land, in a city called Barcelona. It was warm there, warmer than it ever gets here, we didn't need our wool and furs. We ended up buying clothes that were thinner in make just so we could travel in comfort…the warmth is what I miss the most…that and the colors they used. Their food wasn't too bad either."

"I will say, I've never seen Berkians take to foreign food so quickly before, but risking starvation will do that." Hiccup stopped at the look Zephyr gave him. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a downer."

Zephyr sighed. "It's an awfully big weight to carry, Dad. You sure you can't hand anything over to Mom? She's more than willing to help out."

Hiccup tried not to bristle. "I was wondering when you were going to comment on that."

Zephyr placed her hand on her hip. "I'm not blind, Dad, I've seen the tension between you and Mom, as has Nuff."

"I know Nuffink knows, I just didn't know you did." He sighed. "What are your thoughts concerning yesterday?"

Zephyr sighed. "I think you're both right; we can't sit idle militarily, but we don't want to starve to death either. It was a hard decision…but I do think you could've talked to mom about it first."

"Hmm."

Zephyr creased her brows, her voice tinged with worry. "Is everything okay between you? Nuff said you've been fighting."

"We're not fighting, we just…disagree on a few things."

"I wouldn't call whether or not to go to war or warrior training "little" disagreements, Dad. What's the harm in letting the warriors train anyway? Combat skills are always useful, regardless of whether or not we go to war…and since the situations's as bad as it is, I'm pretty sure distraction of any kind would be welcome."

You sound just like your mother, Hiccup thought, smile tweaking the corner of his mouth, followed by a wave of guilt. Maybe I have been too hasty in my decisions…

"We'll see," he said. He thought back to later this morning, finding her note that she and Heather had gone to the Northern Markets to trade. Maybe they'd have better luck this time.

Thoughts of he and Astrid roaming through the markets reminded him of watching Zephyr and Erik walk into Great Hall the night before.

Hiccup cleared his throat. "I saw you and Erik Eretson come in together last night." He watched his daughter's cheeks flush bright red.

"I didn't think you'd noticed."

Hiccup chuckled. "Your mom told me you fancy each other?"

Zephyr looked at him. "Are you okay with that?"

He gave her a tight squeeze. "You'll always be my little girl, Zephyr; my instinct will always be to protect you first. It's hard for a dad, seeing the little girl he loves so much grown up, making decisions on her own, doing what's best for herself…you stopped growing for me when you were eight."

Zephyr cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"When you're a parent, your kids stay a certain age in your mind, no matter how big they get, and they'll always be that age when you first think of them."

"Why eight for me?"

"I'm not sure I can explain it. You were always an inquisitive child, always asking me and your mother "why?" as soon as you could talk, but when you were eight, you asked ALL the questions, always wanting to learn more and more, and once you learned more, perfecting the skills you had, based on the new knowledge. Nothing could stop you; the world was yours for the discovering, for the exploring."

"And now?"

He smiled. "I see a strong and sharp-minded Viking woman, one of the best sailors in New Berk, who shares the same sense of freedom as her grandmother, and who has that fierce sense of loyalty common to not just our family, but to all Vikings."

Zephyr hugged him. Silence passed between them until she spoke again.

"What do you think about Erik, Dad? Do you approve?"

"He's a good man, from what I've seen. His father and mother have raised him and his brothers well…it's hard to say, since I haven't noticed his interactions concerning you. What do you like about him?"

"Well, he's one of the handsomest men in the village…does that make me shallow, prioritizing that?"

Hiccup chuckled, "No. Vanity is attractive in Vikings. Your mother was—and still is—the prettiest Viking woman in the village. When I was young I never thought she would fall for me. You take after me that way."

"I will admit, I was surprised when Thora told me he liked me back."

"What's your favorite thing about him?"

"He always knows the right thing to say, not just to me, but to everyone."

"I'm surprised, the Eretson's aren't known for having silver tongues."

Zephyr chuckled. "Erik's not exactly silver-tongued, although he can make it work for him if need be," she looked into Hiccup's eyes, "but he's never spoken that way to me. When he speaks to me, I know with certainty that what he says is true. He's honest. Even when it hurts to be so."

Honest. The word stung. Honesty was something he and Astrid had always shared, especially when fears and insecurities rose. He swallowed. Honesty was all she was asking of him, all she had ever asked of him. I should be honest with her when she returns, he thought as Zephyr continued to talk, It's the least I could do…

MEANWHILE...

Astrid let the crowd mill around her. She had been in the markets long enough to no longer arouse attention or suspicion. She was here for the same reason as everyone else: to trade. And since she was a Chieftess, no one would question her just browsing.

She wandered around the stalls, looking at the wares. A sharp glint caught her eye. She turned and saw a knife seller hanging a knife by the hilt on a wall behind the counter. She walked over.

"May I see that?" she asked.

The stall owner, a Pict, raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he pulled the blade from the wall and handed it to her, hilt first, a woad knotwork dog tattoo in an attack pose snarled along his forearm.

"You have an affinity for blades, Chieftess?" he said in Norse, but his Gaelic accent thick.

Astrid nodded and took the blade, and hefted its weight. It was light in her hand, its wood and brass handle intricately carved. The blade itself was a decent length, around six inches, typical smith steel, but finely polished.

She took firm hold of the handle and practiced a few knife fight maneuvers (that twirly criss cross bit, some thrusts and stabs), displaying her skill, but not so much as to show off and attract attention. Keeping it low key was important.

The blade was light in her hand, but the hilt weighted just enough to keep counterbalance. It had been made for a woman, its slim look, light weight, and intricate carving giving that away. A woman with little knife skill could wield this effortlessly, she thought, although she herself could handle one much heftier, despite her petite stature. The blade was small enough to cause just the right amount of damage against unwanted attention from men who led with their dicks instead of their brains.

She quirked a smile at the knife seller as she looked at him. "A solid blade." She nodded to the other knives, daggers, short swords and javelins displayed on the wall behind him. "Did you make them yourself?"

The Pict stood straight with pride. "Aye, ma'am, me and my sons." He turned around and pulled a short sword from the wall, laying the blade carefully across both hands. "My youngest son finished this one yesterday." He turned the blade on its side and pulled an apple from his apron pocket. He carefully held the apple a foot above the blade, then dropped it.

A soft swish sounded as the apple hit the blade, slicing into two uneven pieces.

Astrid pursed her lips and nodded in approval. "That'll do fine damage," she said, "Do you have any battle axes?"

"I'm afraid not, Chieftess," The Pict replied, "Those tend to be your people's weapons, begging your pardon. We Picts stick with long daggers, shields, and darts."

Astrid smiled to herself. We have the advantage over you, then, she thought. The single-bladed axe was her specialty, and she'd cut through many a skull with one. New Berk could easily defeat these Picts through strength of arms alone. Javelins and sword-and-shield were nothing compared to the battle axe and ulfbert. She gave the knife seller a polite nod and stepped back. She gestured to the wall display. "You have a fine selection and display, worthy of any battle."

The seller returned her polite nod, but she noticed the muscles in his neck tighten, ever so slightly. "Thank you, Chieftess, but gods willing, we won't have to."

A SHORT TIME LATER…

Astrid stared over the ship's railing and out to sea, the salty breeze cold against her skin, frustrated.

She had expected to find boasting, pride, swagger amongst the Picts for burning down New Berk; but she'd found none of that.

The market had been filled with tension, from both the Picts and the Archipelago tribesmen, but it was the cool kind of trading, where you politely tolerated each other in public because in private you hated each other.

What had taken her completely by surprise was various Pictish women talking amongst themselves about how to help New Berk and its people, without causing an uproar…which was the snag they came to.

Heather stood beside Astrid and leaned her arms against the railing. "Not what you expected, was it?"

"Why would they want to help us when they're the ones who razed the village?" Astrid replied. "It doesn't make sense. Nothing I saw today made any sense."

Heather paused before voicing, "What did you see the night of the fire?"

"Picts," Astrid stated. She hung her head. "At least I thought so. I only caught a glimpse because they were in the process of turning away, but I could have sworn I saw tattoos and those plaid patterns they wear, and only the Picts have those…but the ones we met at the market seemed genuine in their shock and sympathy about the razing. It would be obvious if they'd done it—they would have hidden smiles and been boastful."

Heather tilted her head, playing devil's advocate. "Maybe they are innocent. And to be fair, we don't know the Picts that well. We haven't been the most welcoming neighbors, even with Hiccup as honorary Archipelago chief. As Vikings we would be the ones to boast of deeds like razing and pillaging…"

Astrid sighed and looked at her friend. "Tell me what you want to say."

Heather exhaled. "Are you sure you're not looking for an enemy where there is none? We haven't fought a battle since Zephyr was born, and a peace lasting that long would make any one of us bloodthirsty. Are you sure you're not just wanting to start a fight for the sake of it?"

Astrid raised her brows in, incredulous. "You, a Berserker, are questioning my motives on battle lust?"

"I'm married to Fishlegs Ingerman, the second-oddest Viking next to Hiccup. He helped me learn how to temper it over time, and I've learned how see it in others. You love a good fight just as much as I do."

Astrid sighed. "A part of me does want to just go ahead and fight them, raze one of their villages so they can know what it's like." She shook her head. "But I can't do that. If I want war this time, I need to have solid, without a doubt proof that the Picts are behind this. Unless he sees the evidence for himself, he's not going to believe me."

Heather paused as a thought struck. "Is he going to allow us to train even if we don't?"

"I'm hoping to convince him of that. We don't know if or when we'll be attacked again, and, as general, it's my job to make sure we stay in top fighting shape."

"But didn't Hiccup shut down the arena?"

"Yes, but I'm working on a way to convince him we need to continue training, like always."

"Do you have an angle?"

"Boredom, for now." Astrid sighed and shook her head again. "I can't shake this gut feeling that something about this is wrong; and today's lack of information confirms that."

"You definitely plan on continuing this, then?"

Astrid nodded. "We have to keep coming back. We've got one more trade day left this month, then three in October. Thankfully leaving on a trade day won't rouse suspicion."

"What about the time limit? Is an hour enough to find out anything conclusive?"

"We'll just have to keep our ears open. If we come often enough to trade, guards will be let down and information will slip…I hope."

The waters were calm and smooth, the winds billowing the sails as they glided through the water, sea spray and salt a constant.

The evening sun was low in the sky when the karve pulled into New Berk Harbor, the sky molten pink and gold, tinged with orange and vermillion.

Astrid's nerves tingled as she walked up the hill towards the blacksmith forge, the evening sun warm against her back.

Hiccup stood near the front, as always, hammering a pick-axe into shape. She watched him pause to wipe the sweat from his brow with his arm. Is that…a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth? she thought.

"Hey," she said as she walked up.

"Hey," Hiccup said as he shoved the red-hot tool into the barrel of oil for rendering. He wiped it with a cloth. "How did the trading trip go?"

Astrid looked at him, surprised. "You read my note?" This day was full of surprises.

"Of course!" Hiccup replied, then looked solemn. "I'm sorry I've been so cantankerous lately, I let the stress get to me…trying to do everything alone."

Astrid sucked in a breath as guilt swept her. Dear gods, don't apologize now…

Hiccup removed his apron, hung it up and walked, his limp ever to slight, up to her, taking her hands in his. "I'm sorry I haven't let you help."

Astrid forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat. She'd longed for this, for apologies—but not immediately after making the decision to deceive him.

"I'm…sorry I've been so pushy," she replied. It wasn't a total lie…she hadn't been as graceful in her requests as she normally was with him.

Hiccup tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, smiling softly. "You want what's best, just as I do. The trade went well?"

"Yes," she covered before the truth threatened to spill, "I managed to trade potash for a surprising amount of dried, smoked, and salted fish."

Hiccup's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? Other tribes were willing to trade that?"

Astrid spoke slowly. "It wasn't from the other tribes…it was from the Picts."

Hiccup said nothing, but waited for her to finish.

"I didn't think they would be so generous…" she looked into his eyes. "I…may have been wrong." Gods, why did saying that taste so bitter?

Hiccup pressed his forehead to hers, and Astrid pressed back; slightly.

"I talked with Zephyr today. She agreed that I've been carrying too much; she also reminded me that you and I are at our best when we're together."

A surge of resentment flared, but she kept it down. "I tried to tell you that."

"I know you did. I'm sorry I didn't listen. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else. How much food were you able to get?"

"About a week's worth. It should last us further into the winter—a little more anyway."

"Thank you," Hiccup said, meeting her eyes, "For everything that you do."

Astrid's heart twisted in guilt as she placed her hand against his face, his beard prickly against her palm. No matter how angry and frustrated with him she was, she still loved him.

"You've worked so hard during all of this, done more than any chief. You deserve just as much thanks."

Hiccup noticed emotion flash across her eyes. Was that regret? "Everything all right?"

Astrid broke eye contact, lowered her head and exhaled. Then met his eyes once more.

"Hiccup, I need to talk to you about—"

"Chief! There's a dispute between the Gunderson's and the Halvorsen's about whose long house gets built next and they want you to settle it!"

Hiccup and Astrid looked to the villager who had voiced the concern. Hiccup rolled his eyes and was about to delay the matter, when the evening meal bell rang. He glanced towards the Hall as throngs of people left their trades and walked up the hill. He turned to his wife and squeezed her hand. "I have to take care of this. We'll talk after?"

Astrid nodded and watched him walk away.