Chapter Nine.
"Does your offer still stand?"
Her breath came out in billows, and Snotlout found himself standing several paces away, unsure and caught unawares. He stepped forward cautiously, closing the distance between them. Juniper nickered a greeting to him, and he raised his eyebrows at the level of comfort she had with Adelaide - though the horse had made vast improvements on her nervousness, she usually did not take too well with strangers. "Thank you for the room," she said as she swiped the mane from Juniper's eyes, "Your horse is beautiful."
He also reached out a hand and gave his horse a pat on the neck. "You changed your mind."
Snotlout was quite unsure of what to make of the situation, and there was a question in his words. As if to distract himself, he began strapping the pack containing his things to the back of his horse's saddle. Adelaide stood by watching, her moss green dress striking against the powder of snow and slush in the street. "Perhaps. Or, I might have just had more time to think about what you said."
His searching eyes met hers, and she immediately broke contact as if uncomfortable. "I… think I may have been a bit rude to you last night. Especially after you were so kind to me."
Snotlout managed a shrug. "It's nothing."
"You said that last night, too," she said, "And as I said before, it is something. To me at least. I think it's just hard to accept a bit of kindness when it's so hard to find, and even harder to drop your guard. Even if it's right in front of you," and then she looked towards Wolfsbane, "But I'm sure you know how that is."
The Viking had secured his things to Juniper, and the horse huffed out a great plume of hot breath, anxious to leave the stable. He stroked her black mane affectionately. "Yes, I know how that is. "
Juniper pranced outside of the stable when she was led out, and Snotlout and Adelaide stood beside each other on the road. He looked to her again, where her head only came up to his chest, and he found that his heart began to beat just a bit faster, anticipating what she would say next.
"I think I misunderstood you last night," she said slowly, almost cautiously. "There may have been signs right in front of me all along, and it may not be coincidence alone that we stumbled across each other. You've proven yourself to be a good man, Ralof, and I'd like to take you up on your offer. If you'll let me."
Snotlout furrowed his brow. He didn't exactly understand her… no more than a coincidence, and signs? Though she flicked her eyes up to him again in question, he found it near impossible to read her passive face. And yet, something in her words made indescribable sense to him. He had a fleeting thought - maybe the Gods did put them in the same tavern last night, for some cosmic reason he could not understand.
After what felt like minutes, he found himself nodding to her. He offered a hand to help her onto the horse. "I'll let you."
Adelaide's lips turned up at the gesture - he would soon find out just how rare her smiles were - and she raised a hand to point into the horizon once in the saddle. "The innkeeper pointed in this direction, where we'll find a mountain that's on the map."
So they set off.
Snotlout looked up to where the road was taking them. The mountains were high and rugged about them, their peaks clouded in dense swirling snow, and the horizon was a bleak wall of gray. He had no idea how long the journey would last, and the hard land loomed about them. He had a stomach of lead, yet an elation in his chest - for the first time, he had a destination.
It was strange to have a travel companion… Snotlout had been on his own for years and years, and had become quite used to the solitary life. Though they spoke very little, he was very aware of Adelaide's presence as she rode Juniper at his side. Initially he thought the lack of speaking may have been awkward, but whenever he stole a glance in her direction, Adelaide just stared forward in what appeared to be deep thought. The weather alone did not permit much conversation either - though the grey clouds and its snow lightened, a rather harsh wind began to sweep through so that they tucked their faces down. Snotlout gave Adelaide his rather worn travel cloak and she was bundled up so only her eyes and nose were exposed, and he was quite content in the cold, though his leg injury throbbed with each step.
They travelled the main road for the majority of the day, and when the sun began to set they moved off into the woods to make camp. The wind had lessened and Snotlout caught a glimpse of her staring off at the darkening sky, seemingly scanning the stars before bending to start a fire. It was odd enough to have a companion after so many years, and though he tried hard not to acknowledge it, the fact she was the opposite sex made him especially self-conscious.
He was approaching the age of thirty years and had yet to know a woman. It was just another failure of many to add to his list - and it was deeply humiliating. When he was younger it was such a large matter to him, and now the largest matter to him was simply ignoring why that might be. Years ago, there was a time when he found the answer.
He was travelling on the road that day, riding on Juniper when she was still fresh and easily spooked, the path muddy and thick from a torrential rain. A river flowed alongside the trail, swollen from the rains and burbling loudly. There was a sudden movement - a rabbit, or some small animal, darting out from a bush - and Juniper reared on to her legs with a frightened whinny. Snotlout was just as surprised and his grip failed, falling straight back into the mud, his landing softened by the layer of sludge. It took much effort to pry himself out, and he had groaned to see thick mud covering all of his armor and seeping through the cracks into the mail and clothes beneath.
Snotlout looked to either side of him. Not a soul could be seen on the road, and it was miles ago he last crossed paths with another. "This is your fault," he murmured to Juniper as he began taking the armor off. She blinked her big eyes at him, having calmed down and just dipped her long neck to drink from the river.
He stood in the rushing water stripped down to his leggings, sulking as he cleaned the mud from each piece of steel and his mail, unable to hear the sound of hooves approaching over the rushing water. Suddenly, he was aware of others. He automatically jerked, turning his body so that his brand could not be seen, and then immediately flushed at the new arrivals.
Walking leisurely on the path was a band of people - everything about them screamed 'nobles'. A man in intricate and rather impractical armor carried a large and colorful banner at the lead, and the company consisted of armed men on foot and women on horseback. The women were all beautiful with elaborate hair and expensive gowns, even their white horses were pristine with shining coats. He grew scarlet to see them looking at him, half-naked in the river, and the younger women were trying to hide their mouths as they giggled and snickered.
"Do you need assistance?" the eldest woman called out, laughter in her eyes.
Snotlout wanted more than anything to disappear. "No. I'm fine."
She looked to his belongings laid at the riverside. "And what do you do, with such a fine suit of armor and worn weapon? Are you a mercenary?"
The guards accompanying the women were giving him hard looks, and he kept his left side turned away as best he could. "A sellsword."
"Ah," the woman said. "I may have a job for you, then. At the next village, come to the inn and I can give you a handsome amount of coin for your services."
He just gave a nod, confused, while the girls giggled at some unsaid joke, and the company moved on as she called back behind her, "Good luck!"
It took quite some time to clean the rest of his things and even longer for them to partially dry. Snotlout mounted Juniper once more and was sure to keep an eye out for any other sudden surprises. They trotted down the path, and soon the town came into sight. The Viking paused, taking in rows of wooden buildings and caught sight of the inn. It had been some time since he was hired. Though the woman was not one of the usual types to seek the services a sellsword, he supposed it could not hurt.
Inside the tavern, patrons were merry and loud as they drank pints of cold beer and a drummer hammered away. As usual, he received several odd glances as he stepped inside, and soon his eyes fell on a man he recognized - the one who carried the banner in the procession. He was sat beside a stairway as he drank a pint, and Snotlout approached. "I was told that I'd be given work?"
The person before him rolled his eyes and gestured behind him to the stairs. Snotlout was unsure of what to make of the situation but stepped past nonetheless. The stairs took him to a single room with a slightly ajar door, and he knocked lightly.
"Come in."
He stepped inside. It was a large room with a massive bed and it's own tub, the likes that he could never afford. The woman who spoke to him earlier was perched at a desk, pulling pins from her head so her platinum hair fell past her shoulders. She gave him a smile. "So you decided to come. Close the door, will you?"
Very aware of the fact that the two were all alone, Snotlout nodded and swallowed. "You said you had work for me."
Now closer to the woman, he could see she was just a bit older with creases at her lips and eyes, and she was striking in her middle-age. She rose from her chair with a smile. "Where are you from? You do not look like many others around here. Your body type is… interesting."
He felt himself growing hot and cleared his throat. He gave the usual answer: "From the east. So w-what kind of work is it you're looking for?"
"I see, you're to the point," she said with a laugh and did what Snotlout least expected. She raised a hand to pull at her dress, exposing her chest to him. His jaw dropped, and he found himself frozen in place, openly staring. "I'd like you to do for me what my husband can't."
He could not form words. Was this really happening?
She crossed over to him, her movements cat-like. He did not dare move as his brain tried to process what was happening before him. She reached down to grab him with lustrous eyes, and he took in a breath.
Are you enjoying it, love?
He was back in the guard's chambers on the beach, and one of the men purred into his ear, and he felt his calloused hand and Snotlout suddenly jerked with a shout "NO!", shoving, eyes screwed shut.
He heard a surprised yelp from a woman and opened his eyes - no, he was not back in the guard chambers, he was here in the tavern.
Snotlout realized what he had done and could still feel invisible hands all over him. "I-I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
The woman did not hit the floor, but braced herself against the bed frame and she looked on him with disbelief and let out a taunting laugh. "What? Do you favor men?"
He was already out of the room, feet pounding down the stairs. His stomach rose and he raised a hand to his mouth on the verge of being sick. Eyes followed him as he rushed past the tavern patrons and into the street. His stomach attempted to eject its contents, and he found himself doubled over on the side of the road, dry-heaving. His breath came out in pants and everything spun around him as he still felt invisible hands grasp at him - he was suffocating. He was aware of people looking upon him in interest, yet no one stopped. He was glad of it. Several minutes passed until he dared to straighten up, wiping his eyes as he struggled to calm his breath.
What was wrong with him?
Snotlout was certain that he was at the beach again, in the guards chambers. He heard it and felt it. But it was impossible. He should have been ecstatic… a woman actually wanted him, a moment that should have been so significant. But rather than feeling her touch, all he felt was twisted insides and spinning vision as he made his way to his horse to leave town. He was broken. Snotlout's hands were shaking as he led Juniper into the street. He could not seem to escape it. Even hundreds of leagues away, on the opposite side of the continent, he realized he never truly left the Guard's Chambers.
He tried hard to banish the memory of his failure with the woman, sure that Adelaide knew. It was not as if he was interested in her at all in that matter - he learned long ago that it was useless to let him think such things about women - he was far too broken... but it did not make things any of it less humiliating.
The Viking and Healer finished setting up their camp in silence, and Snotlout kept his eyes averted with a knot in his belly, trying hard to forget his failures. It was a bit too early for bed, and they both sat near the licking fire. Their eyes met, and he was reminded of Gothi and her penetrating, all-knowing stare. Though Adelaide might have only been idly gazing, there was something about those pale green eyes and contemplative look that was a bit unsettling. He had heard the stories of witch healers before, and always thought they were only that - stories. But alone under a dark winter sky, even he could not help but let his imagination wander.
"At the inn, last night," he said, "What the innkeeper called you-"
"A witch?" she finished for him, rolling her eyes, but a bitter laugh accompanied it.
"Right," he answered.
"You're asking if it's true, I suppose?" she asked and before he could respond, went on, "Well, if you're one of the types of men who think any free-thinking woman is a witch, then yes."
He did not have a ready reply. "But, I don't really take you for that type," she went on, "And I tend to be right about those types of impressions."
"But you are a healer?"
She nodded in response. Snotlout frowned, beginning to realize it was silly of him to even entertain the idea of her being supernatural. "Why is it that people are so afraid of you?"
She seemed to think hard on that and her face darkened a bit. "Because men are afraid of things they don't understand."
"But if you're a healer, you help people and save lives. Why be afraid of it?"
"Yes, I help people. But to many, there must be some motive to choose such a solitary life rather than submit to a husband. We're cast out and forced to live on the fringe of society. And because of that, the same men who threw us out think we're wild and can't be trusted, just continuing the cycle of fear. Women who aren't under the rule of men are terrifying to them… so they come up with ridiculous excuses to explain it."
Snotlout stared into the dancing flames of their fire, processing her words. "So, why would you even want to do it? Why do you help people if you don't get anything in return?"
"It was not so much I chose to do it, the path chose me," she replied. "And it is not entirely unrewarding. If someone is able to give me something in return, I'll take what they can spare. And while many would like to interpret that as I take souls or something ridiculous," and she scoffed, "it's usually a few gold coins or meal, or even this map to Berk."
And she reached a hand down and touched the satchel at her side. He had been insanely curious to know how she came upon it, and attempted to be nonchalant in his question. "And how did that happen?"
"A woman stumbled upon me," Adelaide said, "she was with child and running from the Eastern shore. She was a very long way from home and needed attention, and I did what I could. She did not have much to spare, but gave me this map and told me an unbelievable story about it."
Snotlout swallowed. "What did she say?"
"She told me a story, where one day Vikings atop dragons flew in from across the ocean."
He felt an odd sensation, of goosebumps spreading across his skin and his head became light. Adelaide went on. "Supposedly. The way she told it only a few people witnessed it. Many from her village believed it was just a tall tale, but she said that others would swear on their lives it actually happened."
"So if you have the map… why are you going there?"
"This woman also told me the riders had a message. They were in need of a Healer. And they gave maps for those brave enough to believe, and I managed to come across one because of her."
His thoughts were racing. He had never expected to hear of men riding dragons in his life ever again. She may even be talking of the Chief of Berk and Toothless themselves… have they been to this continent before? And why in Midgard would they be asking about needing a Healer? He almost wanted to think that it was all just talk, just some village making up stories, but the piece of parchment she carried with the Norse handwriting confirmed that it was all true.
"Did this woman say why they needed a healer?"
"No," Adelaide said, "But I know it's true. I know I have to go there."
She sounded so resolute, so firm in her decision. He no longer asked any questions, just thinking hard on what he was told and the night continued on in silence.
Snotlout had changed entirely in the past nine years. He had a new life, whether it was wanted or not. And it seemed that Berk had changed quite a bit as well. He could not even fathom the idea of Vikings travelling across an ocean to a strange land in search of a Healer… he would have been absolutely certain that they would stick to one of their own, not give out maps that disclosed their precious whereabouts. And this information made him question everything. Were dragon riders coming to this continent all along? A mixture of emotion bubbled within him. Here he had been, where dragon riders may have been visiting all this time… aware that he could have been lost and wandering in it's land, forgotten.
The first days of travel were quite uneventful.
For a few hours on the second day, the skies cleared and they could in fact see the white peak of a jagged mountain on the horizon - so they were on the right path. However, it sat several leagues away, and it was then Snotlout realized just how far they would have to go. Adelaide had passed the map on to him - "I have not travelled much before," she said as she placed the rolled parchment into his hands, "I think you're more suited to guide the way."
At night when he would take his watch, he often found himself looking on it, transfixed as his thoughts churned. Adelaide would take her watch as well, and though he initially was apprehensive to have someone around him in the vulnerable state of sleeping, he soon found himself getting the best rest he had in ages. In his youth, Snotlout was a heavy sleeper, but he had grown to wake at the slightest sound since being on his own. In this place, the anxiety of waking up to dagger being thrust in his skull made sleep near impossible and he was constantly restless and exhausted… but with two to keep watch, this improved drastically.
On the fourth night of their travels, he felt hands shake him awake and he bolted upright drenched in sweat and panting, though the air was freezing around him. He immediately reached for his sword with wide eyes. "What! What is it?"
Adelaide kneeled before him, and her expression was strange. "You were having a nightmare. You were shouting in your sleep."
He relaxed his grip on Wolfsbane. Adelaide returned to sit by the fire and said no more. Though his pounding heart was quieting, Snotlout could not remember what it was he had dreamt of, and felt terribly naked. Whatever it was he had said in his sleep, it had turned Adelaide's face dark and she gazed unblinking into the fire. They did not speak much the next morning.
When midday arrived, and they walked through a dense wood carpeted with snow, she finally spoke. Adelaide was on foot as well and held Juniper's reins - the two had taken quite a liking to each other. Juniper even made it a point to nuzzle the crook of her neck every so often, as if to check in occasionally. "It's a shame that your first reflex on waking is to grab a weapon."
Snotlout walked on the other side of Juniper. "I didn't realize."
Adelaide furrowed her eyebrows. "But I can't say I blame you. If you're a sellsword, you've probably grown accustomed to bloodshed."
"It's an occupational hazard," Snotlout said matter-of-factly.
"But it should not even need to be an occupation to begin with," she spoke almost as if to herself, "I suppose I can't blame you… but we should not live in a world where battle and war is so celebrated and accepted that sellswords have to exist."
Snotlout was faintly reminded of Fishlegs by her words. This was a worldview that the Ingerman brought up many times, and it was still a concept quite foreign to him. "But it's just the way things are. There's nothing to be done about it."
"Violence and battle is glorified," Adelaide said, "And as long as kills bring prestige, people will continue to murder with no second thought to life."
Of course battle was glorified, Snotlout thought. The way of the warrior brought glory - what was hard to understand about that? "It's just the way it is. It is either kill or be killed."
"And how many people have you killed, Ralof? All so you can be paid?"
Snotlout did not know where to begin discerning the number. "I… I don't know."
"See," she said with a hint of disappointment.
Snotlout furrowed his brow, his integrity under attack. He was a warrior, using his strengths against those who did not value honor and glory. "I protect myself and the people who need it. If I can make some gold doing what I'm good at, it doesn't make me any different than anyone else making a living..."
"I suppose that's the logic of robbers and bandits as well."
"I'm not the same as them, it's different," Snotlout said quietly, wringing a scarred wrist with his hand.
Adelaide stopped beside a tree stump. She used it to mount Juniper, and the two failed to see the horse flare her nostrils at a scent. "I am not trying to argue with what you do. I just think it's ridiculous that it is necessary. There should not be so much value put into battle and-"
"You there!"
They did not even notice the two men slinking towards them through the thicket. Adelaide visibly jumped in her saddle and Juniper spooked, whinnying. Snotlout - as if further proving Adelaide's point - put his hand to the dagger at his side as he turned to the two newcomers. They stood a dozen feet away and were donned in a light hide armor that had allowed them to move through the woods so silently. Hoods covered much of their facial features in shadow, and they each had a long and jagged knife in hand.
Snotlout stood his ground, taking them in while Juniper anxiously paced beside him. These did not appear to be the standard, unskilled bandits he was accustomed to. His face hidden in the shadow of his hood, one man gestured to them with a sweep of his dagger. "We do not mean you trouble. Hand over all of your valuables and you can go on your way."
"We don't have anything of value," Snotlout replied, his voice steady.
One of the two thieves motioned towards the roll of parchment he had secured around the belt of his armor. "What's that? A treasure map?"
"None of your concern," the Viking answered.
"You there, on the horse," the other called out, "Hand over your satchel."
Adelaide hugged her bag close and said nothing.
The two approached. "We don't want to kill you... unless you leave us no choice. Just give up your belongings."
Snotlout kept his eyes on the two thieves and drew Wolfsbane. "Get out of here, Adelaide."
The healer held the reins tightly, but he could see her knuckles were white. "I'll stay with you."
"No," his voice was firm. "They mean what they say."
"Ralof, I'm staying-"
But he slapped Juniper across the rear hard, sending the horse flying into the woods along with her rider. At once, the thieves ran towards him. The steel of Wolfsbane met their knives with a metallic ring.
The two thieves had to be professionals. They were incredibly fast in their light armor, out maneuvering Snotlout with ease and they worked as a team, their attacks well coordinated. Just as he would parry one knife, another would come in and he barely had time to deflect the attack. At first what he saw as a challenge became a battle for his life as the two literally ran circles around him. It did not help him at all that trees in the wood grew close together, and he could not even complete a full swing of his greatsword without clipping their limbs.
He broke a sweat as the battle continued, the clang of meeting weapons echoing in the forest. He could not let them take the map to Berk.
Snotlout barely caught a knife that was thrust towards a crack in his armor about the neck, using the protection of his gauntlets to actually grab the blade and toss it. To his dismay, the man's partner actually reached and drew his own dagger from Snotlout's side and tossed it to his friend. They were using his size against him. He could not help but feel impressed with the two as they moved through the trees… they were the most skilled fighters he had met in this place.
But he was still a Viking - he was the superior swordsman and could not be bested. He caught an opening at long last. Snotlout parted his feet wide, swinging Wolfsbane behind his back into a sweeping slice that would behead his opponent… and his left leg buckled, the stubborn old wound in his leg tearing open from the stretched stance. Snotlout fell to his knee with a pained grunt, his attack interrupted. He just had time to look up and see the thief ready to plunge his knife downwards, and the only choice left was to raise an arm above his head, a meager attempt to protect himself.
He never felt the blade sink in, and hooves rumbled the ground about him. Adelaide had returned on horseback, and she rode the thief down from atop Juniper, throwing him aside easily. Snotlout immediately took action - though he could not put much weight on his foot, he managed to launch himself towards the second attacker. The two rolled about on the hard and snow powdered ground. The man tried to slice with his knife, but Snotlout grabbed his wrist and twisted the blade from his hand. Rolling so that the Viking pinned his attacker down with his weight, he raised the knife high.
It was then he heard a shout from Adelaide.
He snapped his gaze over to her, where the man she rode down was clawing at her legs in the stirrup, trying to hoist himself up to her despite his broken bones. He tried once, twice, to sink his dagger into her leg but missed as she struggled. Juniper even snapped her flat but strong teeth at him, dragging him this way and that. He pulled himself up with a final show of strength and drew his weapon back to stab Adelaide right in the belly - but Snotlout reacted faster. He hurled the blade in his hand hard, and it sunk into the man's back. There was a grunt, a sound accompanied by a splatter of blood from the mouth, and the attacker dropped to the ground.
"You - you -"
The thief still pinned beneath Snotlout stuttered, eyes filled with malice, but a swift punch to the jaw knocked him out. Snotlout was breathing heavily, his breath clouds of steam. The forest no longer echoed with the sounds of battle, and as if it never happened, the sounds of birds chirping slowly returned to the woods. Were it not for the two lifeless forms sprawled about the snowy forest floor, it could have been peaceful.
"Ralof?" Adelaide asked after several moments, petting Juniper's mane to calm her from the stench of blood, though the woman was just as shaken.
Snotlout was trying to steady himself. In all of his years in this land, he was truly tested on his battle skills today. Without saying a word, he mentally congratulated the unconscious man beneath him for his skill, and went to stand. His knee buckled again, the old wound hissing and Snotlout cried out, catching himself before he fell to the ground.
"You're hurt," Adelaide said with concern.
Snotlout limped over, his left knee sending shooting pains to his head with every step. He gritted his teeth, "No, I'm fine."
She dismounted Juniper and strode over, eyes searching for a wound. "What did they do?"
He absolutely despised showing signs of weakness, and his face reddened as he hobbled to a fallen tree and sat on it to take weight off of his leg. "It's nothing. It's an old cut from weeks ago, I just stepped wrong and-"
"What?" Adelaide snapped and she looked at him urgently. "Show me."
"It's nothing..." he began again.
"You said weeks? Show me now," and she spoke with an authority that he had yet to see from her. He self-consciously rested a hand on the armor above the wound, and she looked to it. "Take it off."
"What?"
"Your armor, it's coming off," and it was an order. "Or would you rather lose a leg from infection?"
Snotlout was turning all sorts of shades of red. He most certainly did not want to lose a leg… but he was sure he only had a stubborn wound. Reluctantly, and muttering under his breath, he began the process of removing the armor from his leg. When the steel was cast aside, he peeled up his leggings and winced as his fingers grazed the sensitive flesh near the old stab wound. Even he knew it looked unsightly… he had expected it to be bleeding, but the skin was yellow-red and swollen about the puncture mark, the wound itself raised and draining fluid.
Adelaide moved close to him. She went down to look, and he jerked away from her touch. She held her hands over the cut, palms and fingers splayed wide as if to sign she meant no harm. "I need to look. Will you let me?"
Snotlout was exposed, and he was vulnerable. She could not see him like this… he could not let anyone see how broken he was. So he closed his eyes hard and made his hands into fists - he did not want to accidentally strike out - and he held his breath. "It's fine."
Delicate, precise fingers touched him and he winced and sucked in a breath. It hurt. And his mind went to places he did not want to be… but as soon as it started, it was over.
"We need to set camp."
They did not continue for several days.
Far from where they were attacked, the two set their camp up. Snotlout felt awkward the whole way there, for Adelaide insisted that he ride on horseback and she would walk, unable to take 'no' for an answer. The Healer immediately sat herself down when everything was set, spreading the contents of her satchel before her on the ground. Snotlout was interested at the array of things laid about - little pieces of cloths containing all sorts of dried herbs and plants and fungi, several small glass bottles wrapped in pieces of hide, and even a mortar and pestle. When Adelaide went off to look for water, he insisted that she not go alone, but she was off before he could limp after her.
The healing process was intricate and tedious. She cleaned the wound with steaming hot water from their kettle. One night she wanted the injury left open to the cold winter air, sometimes under a poultice that smelled of grass and onion and garlic with a linen wrapped about it. She made all sorts of tinctures and teas, never saying aloud what she was doing. And all the while, Snotlout insisted that he would be just fine.
On the fourth night, under a clear and cold sky, she poured him a cup of fragrant steaming water into his travel tankard. Snotlout's wound was no longer swollen at this point and was closing. He was ready to be on the way - it was not safe to sit still for long periods of time.
He raised the mug to his lips and faltered. Adelaide had been giving him drinks and poultices that were quite heavy on garlic and onion smells and tastes, but this was amazing… the smell of spring flowers and honey met him. "What does this one do?"
Adelaide poured herself some tea as well and sat back. "This one is for taste. I've done all I could to help your leg heal. You're going to be fine."
They had not spoken more than necessities over the past several days. Adelaide was intent upon her work, and Snotlout did not offer much in the way of conversation. The two sipped at their tea silently, looking into the licking fire before them. Though the night was chilly, Snotlout felt a warmth spread through him with his hot drink. They would be on the road tomorrow - Adelaide declared that he was fit to move again.
Though she did not speak much when she worked, Adelaide made it quite clear that he was a fool to let his wound go untreated as long as he did, and that he may have lost a leg if the issue was not addressed. In his youth he always thought that having a hook for a hand or a stump for a leg was an indicator of seasoned warrior, an image that brought prestige - but with the possibility of losing a limb right before him, he did not feel the same way. Snotlout thought hard on the battle with the two thieves as he quietly sipped his drink… had Adelaide not returned with his horse, things could have ended very badly for him.
He saw her stir out of the corner of his eye, and she cleared her throat. "Ralof," she began, as if reading his very thoughts, "I never said thank you. If you weren't there to fight those thieves…"
Snotlout furrowed his brow. "I don't think I'm the one who should be thanked."
She looked at him over the fire. "I've told you before, but I don't believe much in coincidences. For those men to appear as we were talking… after I made some unsavory comments about what you do for a living… I think I owe you an apology. Again."
Snotlout awkwardly looked down at his steaming cup of tea. "It's nothing to worry about."
"And I've been thinking," she went on, "that maybe there's something to be learned from this. It's only going to get worse as we go on. Unless we go around it and add weeks onto the journey, we need to go straight through Wildergreen Hold."
Snotlout's heart sank into his stomach.
"And… I know what I said before, but I don't want to be useless again," Adelaide said. "As much as I do not want it to be, this is just the way things are… and I want to do what I can to help while it is. I want you to teach me to fight."
"You weren't useless," Snotlout said quietly, "If you didn't come back, I would be dead."
"And if you weren't with me," she answered, "I would be, too."
Then she rose and went over to the tent to ready herself for sleep, and he took first watch.
When she had settled herself into the tent, Snotlout immediately pulled the map from his side and rolled it open on the ground before him. His finger found the port that would take them to Berk and moved along the map. He let it rest on a scrawled out word that he was unable to read - despite years passing, Snotlout never cared to try and learn to read the written word in this land. But now he was sure of what it said now - Wildergreen Hold.
It was a lawless Hold where the guardsmen paid no attention to crime… and the slave trade was thriving there. Gunnar and Gertrude, years ago, had explained to him that it would not be wise for him to ever pass through the Hold, were he ever to be recognized as an outsider. His eyes wandered over the parchment, and he realized that Adelaide was right… any other way would add weeks if not months to the journey, and surely the neighboring lands were just as corrupt. It could not be avoided.
He rolled the parchment back up and secured it to his belt, anxiously rubbing at his chin. "Fuck."
Weeks went by.
The pair and their horse moved on in content silence. Winter was coming to an end. Though the air was dry and chilled, the sun beat down during the early day hours and snowfall turned to light drizzling rain midday. The earliest buds of the season dripped morning dew from once skeletal tree limbs, hints of color now resting at their fingertips.
Snotlout was learning more about his travel companion. She constantly kept her gaze to the ground, always picking flowers and gathering plants to put in her satchel and would often see something in the forests and go foraging. She would take these things and dry them at night by the fire, and she seemed to always have some sort of tea or elixir for any small ailment.
One day when the sun was high they moved on to the main road, and it was there they passed a travelling merchant. It was an elderly man atop a loaded horse-drawn cart, and Snotlout waved the man down. Looking over the wares, Adelaide went over the food items for the two, and the Viking inspected weaponry. He caught sight of a short and stout bow and lifted it. It was much lighter than the hunting bow that he had used with Gunnar and Gertude, and he gave the string an experimental twang.
"And what is that for?" Adelaide asked as she approached carrying bread and winter squash in her arms.
"You said you wanted to learn to fight," he answered and also took up a quiver of arrows on the cart. "I think this is how you'll learn."
That night, after one of the more satisfying meals they had, Snotlout taught her the bow by fire light. He had placed pine cones on a log just a distance away and demonstrated how to notch the arrow. He pulled the string back, his arms and hands steady, and the arrow whistled through the air, nicking one of the pinecones so that it fell. Even he smiled a bit - after all these years, he hadn't lost his touch.
Adelaide watched this intently. "I've never used one before."
The bow was placed in her hand, and Snotlout offered an arrow to her. "It's not so bad. Here, notch it like this…"
And he showed her how to draw the bow back, pulling so that the knuckle of her middle finger rested against her cheek. The point of the arrow wavered as her arm shook under the tension, and the arrow flew into the forest, far from its mark. Adelaide frowned as she lowered the weapon. "You make it look easy."
Snotlout just grabbed another arrow. "You'll learn. You'll get stronger the more you practice."
She tried again, and the entire bow wobbled as she tried hard to stay in control. Snotlout moved closer behind her, grasping her bow hand so that the weapon steadied. "See. Don't let it intimidate you."
He then became well aware of how close the two were, with her back grazing his chest, and he found that her hair smelled like the spices she put in her tea. Snotlout took an immediate step back, his stomach flipping from the contact. He mentally cursed himself - why couldn't he just be normal. The whistling of a flying arrow brought him back to reality, and he saw the point embed itself in a tree trunk - far from the pinecones he had set up, but at least they did not lose this one.
"Damn," he heard Adelaide say under her breath. "This is harder than I thought it would be."
"It's not easy," he said and went to retrieve the arrows, "The way I was raised, we used the mace and sword, and I thought the bow was hard, too"
"And where was it you were raised, Ralof?" Adelaide asked, her voice nonchalant, but he could detect suspicion in the question.
He tried to keep his face passive as he gathered the arrows and gave his usual response. "The East."
"Hmm," was the only response, as if she was thinking to herself. "If you'd like to get some sleep, I'll take first watch and practice some more. If it won't keep you awake."
He fell easily into sleep.
A/N. Hello! Man, I just want to take a minute to vent to my fellow writers of ... I sometimes cannot stand the mechanics of posting here. I would just love to have a normal indexed paragraphs with breaks in it rather than having to section certain things off with symbols (-). Anyway, now that I'm done with that... Snotlout is on his way to Berk! It's about time, right? I know I keep saying this story is moving slowly, but as I am posting this I am about 80 pages ahead of posting this, several chapters away and writing some exciting parts to this story and it's a ton of fun to write. Also, I remembered that I posted a sketch to my Deviantart account quite a while ago of some concept art regarding Snotlout's armor. Here is the link if anyone is interested lwall19/art/Steel-and-Spice-799620109
One can also look at my subpar art there, but the account is pretty much dead at this point. Thank you for reading, thank you much! - Rummybones