Hello Hello

So here it is "I Heard You in the Wind". This project started in a middle of a conversation with itsasumbrella. Since October, this subject is in our mind and passionate us. We have huge fun developping this little univers and its protagonists together.

A huge thanks to my friend Alizée who corrected the chapter in french (and who supports me for 6 years in those adventures).

I also want everyone to make a tribute to Itsasumbrella who completely corrected the translation of this chapter. English is not our native language and I hope you all will understand that it's not a easy exercise.

As some of you know : you can also follow us on instagram account itsasumbrellasart and poppy.p_draws for more informations and... maybe some fanarts.

I hope you all will enjoy it

It's been a long time since she had been accustomed to the heavy presence of humans. The market was crowded and it was impossible to move properly among the mass. She could not have imagined that such a large number of humans could live into a place so far from the centre of the Archipelago. The noise of the market was what bothered her most, as she was used to spend her time mostly alone, wrapped in her big wool and skin, trying not to be torn from her mount. The snow had started falling three weeks ago. The Archipelago hadn't seen such a cold winter in ages, or perhaps the mere fact that it was so far west, towards the open sea, made the cold harder and the wind more biting. Nevertheless, that day was particularly sunny and must surely have helped the popularity of the market. She watched the people around her getting agitated, shouting their negotiations. Women and men lined up in front of the merchants, cheerfully thinking about the salary they would collect at the end of the day. This exaltation of profit made her smile. She was offered pearls and soaps from the East and France, rare Asian foods that could please "women like her", grown in more humid countries. It was hardly imaginable to be wetter than the Archipelago, at the end of the known world. The air was dry and unwelcome, but she was almost suffocating among the crowd. The ground was warmer than the sky and the steam escaped from it like manure. However, the sky was blue.

A large woman pushed her hips; looking massive comparing to hers. She was invisible in this crowd of people thicker than boars and lazier than dragons.

There was just about everything possible and imaginable on these stalls. As the season prevented the sale of fresh products, food was mainly dried or smoked, as fish could not be caught during the winter, when the ice surrounded the islands. Nevertheless, merchants from all the regions known around displayed fabrics from the East, gold and silver jewellery set with precious and semi-precious stones, weapons, household accessories, decorative objects, seeds, copied books, bibles, parchments, ink from the Far East... So many items supplied from lands that Vikings never explored before, beyond the end of the world.. Witches were selling strange objects and fabulous ingredients where people crowded to observe and ask about the virtues of each one. Astrid smiled. It was a big display full of emptiness. Nothing caught her attention, as the few accessories for the weapons she was looking for were bad at the first sight. She was desperate to find something to fix her axe. She glanced at her weapon or what it was left of it. She sighed.

She had broken it a few days earlier, on another island and in another market. It was less crowded and the merchandise sold there was more unusual and illegal. The sale of dragons was forbidden in the Barbary Archipelago and auctions were held in a strictly private setting, in the presence of a limited number of buyers. Astrid had managed to infiltrate one of the sales, trying to pass as unnoticed as possible, even though she was the only woman surrounded by older men. It was not long before she attracted the attention of several buyers, apparently confusing her with a piece of meat they could buy. Fortunately, the blade of her axe was more than enough to convince them that she was not for sale. Several individuals turned to her as she passed by, boasting of an obscene comment indirectly addressed to her. Some would have gone directly to her, asking how much she was selling herself. She didn't have time to grieve, as she was there for a very specific purpose.

The auction halls were located in an artificial wooden amphitheatre, where participants were sitting on the stands while they were studying the wild dragons exposed at the centre of the assembly by their trappers. The magnificent animals were imprisoned in small cages and show signs of mistreatment, making their behaviour hostile and aggressive. Astrid had to hold herself when the trappers muzzled and hit them with no mercy and she was horrified as there were either overfed or starved dragons. Their scales were rubbed and the beasts were often moisturized to make them look cleaner and shinier, even if they were full of scars. Apart from the auctions, there was an impressive stock of goods from dragons: scales, claws, teeth but also guts, tongues and bones, stomach humor or even the bladders and testicles. She was disgusted with this kind of entertainment, but she pretended to be interested in the supplies acquired by domination.

The Grimborns controlled much of the dragon trade and it was the first time she had managed to infiltrate on one of their displays. They were two brothers, one taller and thicker, with a bald skull, a trimmed moustache and seemed to find great satisfaction in mistreatment; while the other one, Viggo, was thinner and had less attraction for brutality, but more for commerce. Half of his face was burned off. Several theories put forward the origin of this scar, but no one knew for sure which one of them were true. However, one of her hypotheses was the reason she was in this hell, surrounded by people who would bury her alive if they would found out who she actually was. It had taken her several months to gain the trust of an informant who had gotten her into one of these auctions, so she was thrilled to see that all her efforts were born fruits. The marks of Viggo's face were unpleasant to observe, the skin wavy and red from the burn. His left eye had lost its sight and his eyebrow and part of his hair were burned. He was sinister, his eyes turning around watching each of his buyers in a paranoid delirium. Her eye stopped on her for a moment, observing this new unknown face. He squinted a little before turning away from her and leaning over to one of his men who immediately raised his eyes to her. They were checking to see if her presence was justified. It was normal to wonder about the new faces in this type of sale, as access was extremely restricted and the participants could not be simple merchants. It was a time since the dragon trade had risen to have the same prestige as the human beings one, although slave traders were less secretive.

The auction was held in uninhabited island, naked of great vegetation and all kind of life, swept by the wind that forgot to slow down when it came to hit the small slope of the island. The attendees were constantly kneaded by the west wind, exhausting anyone who stayed there for more than two days. It was a tiny place out of the wide-open spaces inhabited and exploited by viking. A large pontoon made it possible to accommodate the boats of the sellers and purchasers and tents were erected for the event. One of these tents was home of Grimborn's secrets. Astrid quickly located the merchant's apartments, near the end of the storage warehouse for the animals offered for sale. She had seen him settled there while he was unaware of her presence on the island, waiting for them for days. She suffered from the mistreatment of the wind while she was hidden under the wings of her dragon.

She and Stormfly had formed a strong and close bond. They had crossed the entire Archipelago together, turning over every patch of land in search of even the slightest black scale. The dragon had supported her in all her crazy ideas and tracks, ensuring her back and protection. Astrid owed her life on many occasions to the Nadder, whose heightened perceptions warned her from imminent dangers. She was also the only living being close to her in recent months.

She had slipped away before the sale began, blending in behind while the buyers were leaning a little more towards the first dragons presented. Some species were sold for their skin, others for their saliva or fire, others for their destructive capacity. There were arms dealers and Astrid knew the managers too well, partly because her island had gotten into the habit of calling them for their service. Her greatest fear was to be recognized, but if the present personalities were more sales specialists than trappers or hunters, good for her.

Astrid went to the rear in the storerooms, where the cages piled up many dragons. Skilfully stacked towers were stored behind the presentation stage. The air was warm and yet her blood was cold. She watched, looking for the most efficient cage to open. At the bottom of the depot, an old Razorwip was waiting for his turn to be sold, probably for its sharp, impenetrable scales. The animal had its tail tied to the ground, its wings were stuck against its belly as its mouth was muzzled with numerous iron straps. His eyes followed the blonde stranger who was circling around him, whose smell was nothing like the smell of the men who transported him there. This would have been enough to keep the sale busy for a while… She slowly approached to the cage, whispering softly in the dragon's ear. He immediately let himself be approached. She had a sweet and empathetic smile towards him, concerned about his suffering. She raised the axe to the lock, which broke instantly under the blow. It was almost too easy. She entered into the cage to loosen the ties that held him prisoner. She freed him and removed the muzzle that had kept him harmless until then. His sharp teeth would flay his prey in a matter of moments. The dragon tried to bite her first, becoming agitated, displeased, while stretching from this long period of immobility. He pushed open the door and rushed to the exit, unable to spread his wings as long as they were surrounded by all those cages. The other dragons around got agitated, some cages fell, opening in shock. Astrid came out of it, satisfied. She loved that feeling, to see that kind of moment of freedom and empowerment. The animal was taken by vengeful madness and was going to make, whoever got in its way, pay for its suffering. He didn't attack her., of course, and she moved away from the chaos.

Viggo Grimborn was a maniac. His dwellings were carefully arranged, as always. It was a tent with a cot on which the businessman had to sleep for short nights. In the centre, a table with numerous manuscripts and books were placed, stacked in order of size, with scrolls on one side and parchments on the other. A few weapons were scattered in crates stored against the canvas, carefully sorted according to the type of armament or clothing. She approached the table. She had to find any sign that would point to a Night Fury. Her hands went through the paperwork, she lifted the sheets, reading diagonally through the piles of paper. It was in the whole correspondence with buyers, private individuals, some preparations of purchase contracts, lists of sales with the values given to the dragons currently exposed. Outside, she could hear the chaos caused by the dragon's flight, as men tried to calm the animal. He would soon fly away or subdued. One of her resignations during the mission was that she could not rescue the reptiles on sale. The task was too difficult and she was alone. Her time around was short. But if she completed her quest, she had hope that this type of business would break up and disappear for good.

She looked at the books. One of them particularly caught her eyes because of its extremely damaged cover. She opened it to observe the contents and her heart missed a beat. It was His handwriting. In these lines, it was His left hand. She was certain. She could have never expected so much from her research. She sobbed in anguish, unable to contain her shock. How was that possible? What was this notebook doing in the possession of the biggest dragon seller in the Archipelago? She grabbed it, deciding to answer these questions later, even though her whole mind was fogged with pain. She had to understand, she had to find answers. Still, it was the first absolutely serious lead she had had in months. . . if not years. The risk she was taking had finally paid off.

"I could ask you what your motives are, but I have very little interest in them."

Astrid was startled as Viggo Grimborn entered into the tent alone, his arms crossed over the sharp blade of a knife. She stepped back, holding the notebook to her chest while Viggo looked at it with a smile on her face.

"It's not yours, young lady.", he murmured.

"This isn't yours either."

Her voice didn't tremble, she wasn't afraid. He was trying to destabilize her, to reduce her. She wasn't a girl for a long time, she was tired of being a girl. Her fist tightened against her axe, ready to use it, alert.

"How did you get this?"

Viggo Grimborn only grimaced on one side of his face as his other side stayed motionless because of the burnt flesh.

"I thought I knew that face. There's some nice drawings of you in there."

He was trying to throw off her balance. She had found many drawings of her over the last ten years, scattered throughout the Archipelago, so she didn't oscillate and there was no point in getting upset. She needed to slip away, so she just needed to keep him talking for a while. She had waited too long for this moment.

"It certainly wasn't you who drew them. Where's the author?"

Viggo had a straight laugh.

"Didn't he send you?"

Astrid tighten her fist a little more, so she could feel her nails breaking her own skin. He should know something, but she wasn't supposed to reveal herself.

"I thought you weren't interested.", she said.

"I have many enemies, but when it's him I'm willing to take a little interest. I owe him everything."

"Then, where is he?"

She had raised the track. She had to know. She had never been that close to him before.

"I don't know. He's been missing for a few years now."

That wasn't the answer she was looking for. Her expression turned into pure annoyance.

"Why do you have this notebook?", she asked angrily.

"I got it because he gave it to me."

"Lies!", she screamed.

His evil smile froze Astrid's blood. What did he mean by that? A thousand questions had arisen in her boiling mind for the first time in months. She felt him so close. She could force Viggo to talk, but she didn't have the time. She needed to escape, so she looked around her again before putting her fingers to her mouth and whistle the call for help.

"You certainly shouldn't have done that, Astrid."

Viggo threw himself at her with his blade, which she narrowly avoided. She had had a frightening moment when her mouth uttered her name. She didn't give it to anyone, it wasn't even under that identity that she showed up for the sale. His voice resonated in her confused mind. He had managed to destabilize her; he found a loophole. She hit him in the back with the handle of his axe, although he was skilful enough to surprise her with a nudge in her ribs, trying to knock her down. He must have been a good warrior, but his left eye was missing, so Astrid moved towards to his blind spot and gave him a large blow in the jaw. He fell to the ground, a little stunned, she took advantage from the moment to find a way for escaping. However, he was already getting up when reinforcements came to his rescue. Ryker, certainly much more dangerous than his brother, entered into the tent. Astrid throw herself through the canvas out of hand, piercing it with her axe. Experience had thought her to dominate the art of an effective escape.

Stormfly was waiting for her. She ran at the same time as the Deadly Nadder lifted her off the ground. Even if she was running away with more than she had hoped for, she wasn't feeling triumphant at all. The auction seemed to have been aborted, but Viggo Grimborn had escaped from her or, more precisely, he had played a clever game than hers. She clung firmly to the Nadder's leg, waiting to be higher in the air to sit on her back, and she was holding the notebook firmly in her hand. They were flying low, a short distance from the dragon cages, so she couldn't prevent her axe smashing against the heavy wrought iron of the cages. Her expletive got lost in the air while Stormfly raised to the sky.

Someone pushed her again, violently pushing her away from her thoughts. She took one last look at the stalls and the crowd before heading to an adjacent street. She couldn't help but sigh with relief. There should be a blacksmith in that village. She needed to get her axe fixed as soon as possible, so she could get back to her research in the unoccupied islands of the area, although the snow was becoming a problem, even if she was travelling on the back of a dragon. Stormfly was resting in a cave on the other side of the island and she would probably sleep for a few days before they hit the road again. Her Nadder was all she had, apart from her broken axe and the notebook she found in Viggo's papers. She read it for hours. It was the only trace she had found of Him after so long. Since she had started her quest, she had come across his trail too many times and the beginning of every winter she felt that she failed again, but, after travelling through all the Archipelago, she was finally able to find clues that were leading her towards the answers. She couldn't bring herself to give up until she was sure He was dead. He couldn't be. That was impossible. The notebook she found was full of sketches and contained research more or less recent, so he couldn't be dead. The finding of this new clue proved once again that his research on dragons had continued after he had left Berk ten years ago and this kind of knowledge was apparently a major asset for dragon hunters. She couldn't understand how Viggo Grimborn was able to obtain his notebook and treat it with such disregard. He knew Hiccup. Personally. This idea terrified her, but it was the first time she had ever considered that he might have gone to the enemy camp and it would also mean that all her hopes would be shattered and her research had lead her to nothing.

They would be condemned.

Astrid clenched her fist to the handle of his axe. The cold bit her cheeks as she walked away from the heat of the crowd. She watched the blue cloudless sky. Her boots were slipping on the ice and she almost fell. Embarrassed, she watched around if anyone was looking at her in having trouble. Her gaze met an old man sitting on the steps of his house, with his eyes fixed on her. At first, she felt ridiculous, but she used it as an opportunity to ask the way to the blacksmith.

"Three blocks from here, M'lady. He's probably busy today because it's market day, but he might be able to find time for you. His name is Haaken.", he kindly indicated.

She smiles gently as she walked away towards the direction pointed by the old man. The streets were full of mud mixed with snow. She heard the market street starting to calm down as the sky was getting darker. Although the days were extremely short at this time of the year, life in the villages continued in the taverns, the cold insisting them on drinking more. She herself was passively looking for a place to sleep and she would certainly continue doing it after her visit to the blacksmith's shop.

Astrid had built in recent years a fortress of solitude to accommodate her. She had spent the last few months on Berk by herself, her rare interaction concerning mostly her mother and brothers. It was a time since her generation was free of the concerning she could still have, most of them focused on settling down and building their own families. Subsequently, her attraction for solitude made her unable to create a link with anyone during her search through the Archipielago. It had been several months since she had left Berk for good, fleeing in a hasty manner from her home. She promised herself she wouldn't return to her homeland without him and she never broke any of her promises.

Around the corner, a small crowd gathered in front of the blacksmith's shop. She was very astonished by the female presence among the people, as forges were generally the prerogative of men. She approached, armed with her broken axe. The mass was bothering her and because of the particularity of her request, she chose to wait for the human cloud to dissipate it.

She didn't thought she'd have to wait that long. She spent several minutes trying to understand the reason why the crowd was standing there before finding out what was causing the giggling. The blacksmith must have been in good taste. She barely saw him among the heads, glimpsing him between two people, smiling gently. After a time waiting, people finally went away and she could finally walk to the shop while the light of the inside was gradually fading away. The blacksmith heard her approaching from behind, but he didn't look at her.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to come back tomorrow. I'm closing", he said.

Astrid immediately understood why everyone was so interested in him. He had a wide and thick back, muscled by the forge, and, he seemed pretty tall. He was leaning over a bucket of cold water with a sharp blade.

"I've been waiting for more than an hour. I have a special request that requires special care for my axe."

As she raised her voice, she saw the blacksmith's body tighten and his left ear turned to her, like he was suddenly extremely attentive to what she was going to say. The skin of his face was strangely pale, full of freckles, bringing out the green from his eyes, which spread a little further when she finally could have a proper view of him. He was much taller than her, his brown hair was falling on his face and was tied to the back of his head. His chin and the contours of his mouth were surrounded by a short beard cut a bit carelessly. His neck was strangely delicate, resting on his large shoulders. He wore an apron and a green tunic held by a belt marking the waist, pointlessly trying to hide a chest thickened by the muscle. He was toned, young and handsome. However, the weirdest thing of this situation was that she wasn't the only one shocked by his handsomeness. He was also petrified, with his eyes opened widely and his mouth ajar.

"Astrid?!"

And suddenly it made sense.

It was completely absurd. No. It was impossible. It was literally impossible. How didn't she realize before?

It was him. She recognized him in his eyes. Only his eyes could pierce her like that.

"You… You idiot!"