Chapter 7: Faith

"Astrid?"

The elder Hofferson child groaned wordlessly. It felt like barely an instant had passed since she'd finally closed her eyes to rest; it couldn't be time to get up again.

"Sis?"

Astrid wrenched her eyes open. Bright sunlight shone through the crack in her shutters, illuminating her younger brother's face as he stood in her doorway.

"Orvar," she murmured, "What time is it?"

"About two hours after dawn," he replied, "Mother said that you need to get up now, or you'll be late for training."

Astrid was suddenly, instantly awake, a dark sense of foreboding settling on her chest. Dragon training. Ruffnut had intercepted her shortly after she'd returned from Hiccup's cove, and had cheerfully informed her that they were facing the Hideous Zippleback in the ring today.

"Astrid!" A muffled female voice rose through the floorboards.

"I'm up!" she shouted downstairs, before turning to her younger sibling. "Go on," she told him, "I'll be down in a minute."

As soon as her brother left the room, she kicked off the covers and rolled out of bed. Mechanically, she went through the motions of dressing and putting on her armour - making sure to secure the leather-wrapped package she'd prepared the previous night to her belt, Finally, she grabbed her axe and headed downstairs, where her mother slopped a ladle of lukewarm porridge into a bowl.

Astrid yawned, then began quickly shovelling her breakfast into her mouth. She'd been lying awake half the night wrestling with her problems; both the immediate one of dealing with the Zippleback now that she knew it was an innocent, intelligent creature, and the more long-term problems of how to keep Hiccup and Stormfly alive without drawing suspicion.

She was pushing herself hard, and she knew it: with the dragon raid two nights ago, and her missions to help Hiccup and Stormfly, it felt like weeks since she'd gotten a proper night's sleep. However, she had no other option: she couldn't allow Hiccup to die, and she owed her life to Stormfly; she couldn't allow harm to come to the Nadder either.

She was the last to arrive at the ring. As she jogged the final few steps towards the entrance, she noticed that the water cart they used for fighting fires during dragon raids was stood beside the gates. What's that doing here?

"Now that we're finally all here," Gobber began, with a pointed look at her. "Everybody put down your weapons, and pick up a bucket."

Nobody moved. Astrid forced herself not to breathe an audible sigh of relief.

"P-Put down our weapons?" Fishlegs stammered.

"You heard me," the old smith bellowed, "Now get moving!"

Fishlegs jumped in surprise, and quickly scrambled to pick up a bucket and fill it from the cart. Grumbling to themselves, the rest of the group followed suit, and they all filed into the arena.

The portcullis slammed closed behind them. The others muttered under their breath and shifted uncomfortably as Gobber approached the Zippleback's cage. He pulled the release, and the doors slammed open, spilling out a cloud of pale green smoke that began to quickly fill the arena.

"Today's lesson is about teamwork," Gobber began.

Astrid looked over and met Ruffnut's eyes. She nodded briefly and moved to put her back to Astrid's.

"A wet dragon head can't light it's fire," Gobber continued. The smoke billowed around them, rapidly obscuring the boys where they'd stood a few paces away. It smelt faintly of rotten eggs. "The Hideous Zippleback is extra tricky. One head breathes gas, the other head lights it. Your job is to know which is which."

Astrid glanced around, feeling a prickle of nervousness in her gut. The smoke had effectively blinded them. Something moved in the corner of her eye, and she snapped her head around, only to be faced with formless, swirling clouds of vapour.

"Stay close," she whispered to Ruff.

"Razor sharp, serrated teeth that inject venom for pre-digestion," Fishlegs rambled nervously, his voice sounding strangely distant through the smoke. " Prefers ambush attack, by crushing its victims-"

"Would you please shut up!" Tuffnut snapped.

"If that dragon shows either of its faces," Snotlout put in, "I'm going to- There!"

A shadow moved through the smoke. Astrid and Ruffnut span to face it as one.

A bucket load of cold water splashed in their faces.

"It's us! Idiots!" Astrid hissed.

"Your butts must be getting bigger," Tuffnut shot back, "We thought you were a dragon."

Astrid felt her friend bristle beside her. "Ruffnut, don-."

Too late. With a growl Ruffnut threw her bucket at her brother, then raced after it. Tuffnut fled, and the two disappeared into the fog.

Astrid turned to Snotlout. "Don't worry babe," he drawled confidently, "I've got this."

Before she could respond, a sharp cry of surprise from Fishlegs echoed off the arena walls, followed by a scream of pain. Snotlout's face blanched.

Astrid took a step in the direction the sound had come from, then looked over her shoulder. Snotlout hadn't moved.

"Snotlout!" She hissed. "Come on!"

He blinked at her words, but made no attempt to follow her.

A monstrous shadow moved at the edge of her vision, followed by a soft whimpering of terror. She glanced back; Snotlout was still frozen in place. Silently cursing the moment he chose to run out of bravado, she turned her back on him and stalked into the smoke.

Within a couple steps, Snotlout had vanished behind her, leaving her alone in the fog. A few paces later, she began to make out the shadows of the roof-chains above her. The smoke's thinning out, she realised.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind, she heard a furious hissing, and span to see a pair of serpentine heads converging on her. Almost before she'd consciously processed what she saw, her arms moved, tossing her load of water at the nearest head.

The Zippleback jerked in shock at the water. The head she'd targeted reared back and breathed a jet of thick, green gas at her. Wrong head.

Astrid threw the now empty bucket at the dragon, and staggered backwards, coughing as she breathed in the noxious green cloud. She desperately fanned her hands before her face, trying to create some clean air to fill her burning lungs.

Through tear-filled eyes, she watched as the Zippleback's second head descended upon her. With one snap of its jaws it would create a shower of sparks and ignite it's deadly vapour. They wouldn't need a barrow to bury what was left of her.

Astrid met the dragon's bulging, terror-filled eyes as it's head lowered into the smoke. She reached down and found the drawstring of the pouch on her belt.

The dragon's jaws opened.

Astrid closed her eyes and pulled.

The Zippleback's claws scrabbled frantically on the arena floor.

She opened her eyes to see the dragon cringing away from her, almost tripping over itself in its haste to retreat. It beat its wings in terror, quickly dissipating the smoke around her.

Astrid let out her breath; the eel she'd concealed in the pouch at her waist had worked. Thank you, Hiccup she thought.

One of the dragon's flailing wings swung towards her and she ducked at the last moment, cursing. Focus, she told herself, the eel trick may have worked, but someone could still get hurt.

She stepped forwards and snatched up a length of wood from her bucket, which had shattered under one of the Zippleback's feet. Holding the broken plank before her like a weapon, she began to herd the dragon backwards towards its cage. It was all too eager to avoid her - or at least the eel she carried - and a few tense seconds later she'd managed to back it into it's alcove in the arena wall.

Quickly untying the pouch from her belt, she tossed the eel in after the dragon, and while it was distracted, threw her weight against one of the huge iron doors that secured the cage. She heard a screech of metal beside her, and looked over to see Gobber pushing at the second door, scowling with effort.

The doors slammed closed and locked with a metallic clang. Astrid rested her back against them, breathing heavily. Gradually the rest of the group converged on her and Gobber; the twins approaching in silence from one direction, bearing chagrined expressions, while Fishlegs limped in from the other side, leaning heavily on Snoutlout. He favoured his right leg, which was stained crimson from the knee down.

"You're lucky," Gobber growled in the direction of the latter pair. "I cut out the Zippleback's venom sacs before putting it into training."

Astrid tried not to wince visibly; the operation must have been unimaginably painful for the dragon.

"Now go get your sorry asses to Gothi's!" he bellowed, then turned on the twins. "I hope that this was a lesson to you two about the importance of always, always watching your shield-mate's back."

He paused for a moment, letting out a long breath through his teeth. Finally, he nodded to her. "Good job, Astrid. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a village to run."

With that, he turned away and hobbled swiftly out of the arena.

It turned out that Fishlegs' wound looked worse than it actually was; by evening he was released to join the training group as they congregated in the great hall.

"Zipplebacks rely on their fire or poison to kill their victims," he explained, "Without venom, their bite is only a few small puncture wounds. Gothi says it might not even scar."

"Pity," Ruffnut commented, "I like a man with scars."

Fishlegs suddenly turned pink. "Oh... I... Uh..." he stammered.

Tuffnut mimed a retching motion. "Anyway," he said a little too loudly, turning towards Astrid. "You have to show me the move you used in the arena, I've never seen a dragon act like that before!"

"Yeah," Snotlout commented, "That was so you, Astrid."

She sensed the eyes of the group focus on her, and felt a momentary stab of panic

"I..." she nervously brushed at her fringe. "I was just sort of reacting in the moment, I don't know if I could do it again."

"Oh..." Tuffnut sounded disappointed.

"Hear that?" Snotlout said, "She's a natural. Just like me."

"No you're not!"

"Yes I am! I could have beaten that dragon, she just did it first.

Astrid looked away, tuning out the boys as they began to bicker. Inevitably her thoughts drifted to the two dragons in her care. She was confident enough in her hunting ability that she could provide for Hiccup. However, that still left Stormfly; she couldn't sneak into the ring in the dead of night whenever she needed to see the dragon - it would only be a matter of time before she slipped up and somebody noticed her.

As she wrestled with the dilemma, her gaze wandered aimlessly about the room, eventually settling on Gobber. The Smith was sat alone at the chief's high table, staring into the bottom of a tankard.

Suddenly, it hit her: The dragons in the ring may be treated abysmally, but they didn't starve to death, which meant somebody already had regular access to them. Excusing herself, she made her way up to the chief's dais.

"Sir?" Gobber looked up from his drink. Astrid could see dark circles beneath his eyes - running the village in Stoick's absence was clearly wearing on him.

"Do you want something Astrid?"

"I was wondering," she began, "The dragons in the ring - the ones we use for training - aren't dying of hunger so-"

"Aye," Gobber cut in, "I feed them. There's slots in the cage doors; I usually take leftovers from the kitchens down for them twice a week." His eyes went distant. "Although I haven't had time to recently..."

"I could do that for you," she offered, trying to sound innocently helpful.

Gobber eyed her suspiciously.

"I don't have to let the dragons out of their cages," she continued. "So I won't be in any danger. And you've seen that I can handle myself if something goes wrong."

Gobber hesitated, deliberating. Astrid silently urged him to agree.

"Go on then," the smith said with a great expulsion of breath. "It's your funeral. Speak to Dagmar in the kitchens sometime tomorrow, and tell her I sent you, she'll get you what you need."

"Thank you sir," Astrid said, nodding to him respectfully. As she left the high table, her steps felt lighter than they had since she first followed Hiccup into the woods. She might not have any idea how she was going to free Stormfly from the arena, or get Hiccup turned back into a human, but at least she no longer felt like she was struggling to keep her head above water.

Astrid awoke the next morning faced with a novel conundrum: The next bout of dragon training wouldn't be for a couple of days, and she wasn't going to feed the training dragons - and see Stormfly again - until that evening. She didn't have any duties at home or in the village; so, she was faced with the rare prospect of a day to spend however she pleased.

As she went about her morning routine, she'd thought about what to do with herself. Before, she would have spent any free moment that she had training with her axe. Now though, imagining herself inflicting deathblow after deathblow on dragons of every size and shape held no appeal for her. Nor was there any other reason for practicing with her weapon; with a common enemy in the dragons, the last Viking raid in the Archipelago had been years before she was born.

Eventually she'd settled upon spending the day on a hunting expedition into the woods. Even though she had fed Hiccup just the day before, she reasoned that by providing food, she was still helping the village, and that if she brought some kills back, nobody would question her actions when she was hunting for the heir-turned-Night-Fury.

She paused and adjusted the bow slung across her back, trying in vain to stop the stiff bowstring from rubbing uncomfortably at her breasts as she walked. The weapon had never been her favourite - she prefered to deal with her opponents up close, or to use a thrown knife or hatchet if she couldn't close range. Of course, she'd still drilled with the bow until she was at least a competent markswoman - one couldn't hunt deer with a battleaxe, after all.

Astrid sighed irritably, glaring at the narrow, winding game trail beneath her feet. She'd been wandering the forest all morning, and the only sign of life that she'd seen were a set of faded day-old deer tracks. Looking around, she realised that her route had brought her close to Hiccup's cove. Almost before she'd consciously decided to, she found her legs carrying her off the trail and towards the hidden entrance.

When she entered the cove, Hiccup was lying on a rock in the late autumn sunlight, his eyes closed. He yawned as she called his name, then rose to his paws and stretched, arching his back in a distinctly feline motion.

He hopped down from the rock, and padded over to her.

'HI ASTRID' he wrote.

"Hi Hiccup," she returned, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

'TO WHAT DO I OWE THE PLEASURE?'

"I..." Astrid hesitated - why was she here? - "I didn't have anything else to do today, so I thought you might appreciate some company." She looked up at the rock he'd lain on, "Although it seems like you've found a way to pass the time."

Hiccup looked down at his paws and made several soft, mumbling sounds.

"What is it, Hiccup?" she prompted.

'I THINK I'M NOCTURNAL' he wrote eventually.

Her confusion obviously showed on her face, as he began to write an explanation before she could form a question.

'I THINK ALL NIGHT FURIES ARE - BRIGHT SUNLIGHT MAKES ME SLEEPY, AND THEN I WAKE UP WHEN IT GETS DARK'

"That makes sense," Astrid realised, "Dragon raids always happen at night, and your scales would make you invisible against a dark sky."

'ALMOST INVISIBLE,' Hiccup corrected, 'I HIT ONE, REMEMBER?'

"Yes you did," Astrid agreed. "Although, going to confront it on your own with just your belt-knife wasn't the best idea, even by your standards."

Hiccup's pupils narrowed, and a barely audible growl rumbled in his throat - she wondered if he was even conscious of it.

'WHAT ELSE WAS I GOING TO DO?' he wrote. 'I TRIED TO TELL EVERYONE.'

Astrid suddenly felt terrible. He had tried to tell them, although, of course, none of them had believed that him, the weakling, the hiccup, had actually brought down the Night Fury. Gods, even she hadn't really believed his claims when she'd tailed him that morning. If only we'd listened, she thought, then this whole mess might not have happened.

"Hiccup, I'm sorry, I..." What could she possibly say? She was as guilty for shunning him as the rest of the village.

'I KNOW. BUT YOU BELIEVED ME WHEN IT MATTERED. THANK YOU.'

Astrid blinked several times - her eyes suddenly watering. How could it be that simple? She'd conspired to cut him off from almost all social contact with his generation, and made his life about as miserable as a free man's could be; and because of one action made on a hunch, all those years were forgotten? How could he be that forgiving?

He was forgiving enough to let that Night Fury go just because it looked scared, she thought. What makes you special?

Astrid stared at him, realising that beneath the scales, behind those reptilian eyes, she knew next to nothing about the mind of the boy she'd supposedly grown up with.

"What was it like?" she asked softly, "I mean, we - I - treated you pretty terribly, how did you...?"

Hiccup twitched his wings in a draconic shrug. 'I GOT USED TO IT. I JUST TRIED TO MAKE THE BEST OF WHAT I'D BEEN GIVEN IN LIFE.'

"All those years, all those schemes..." she breathed. "Why didn't you just give up?"

'I'M THE CHIEF'S SON - STOICK'S REPUTATION WOULD'VE NEVER RECOVERED IF I BECAME A SIMPLE FARMER OR SMITH.' He hesitated, shuffling his paws in the dirt. 'AND I HOPED THAT ONE DAY HE'D LOOK AT ME LIKE HE LOOKED AT YOU - WITHOUT THAT DISAPPOINTED SCOWL ON HIS FACE'

Years-old words of her own father echoed in her mind. "You were born a girl, and a Hofferson," Balder had said. "That means you need to work doubly hard for them to see past your name and body, and see your skills. You can't change that; you can either give up, or you can train."

"I..." she began haltingly, "I think I know how you felt."

Hiccup's head-frills twitched, but he didn't write anything.

"You know about what happened to my uncle?" Hiccup nodded. "Well, after he ... left, the Hofferson family name was muck. It's too late for my father, so it's my responsibility to win back our honour. That's why I spent almost every spare moment practicing for Dragon Training. It was only thanks to my mother - and my father's fishing voyages - that I got to have any time with our friends."

'WOW, ASTRID. I NEVER KNEW THAT.'

"Well, it was a matter of family shame, we didn't exactly shout it out in the village square." She thought about his last confrontation with the cheif - minutes before his fateful trip into the woods - "Unlike you and Stoick."

Hiccup snorted. 'HE'S A VIKING CHIEF - SUBTLETY ISN'T IN HIS VOCABULARY.'

Over the next few hours, through her hesitant, stumbling sentences, and his painstakingly scratched lines of runes, they shared the experiences of their respective childhoods. In that relatively short time, Astrid learned more about the Haddock heir than she had in a lifetime in Berk. They had been the best and worst Vikings of their generation - seemingly the antithesis of each other - and yet they had more in common than she could have possibly realised: They had both struggled under the weight of familial expectation, and had both been denied social contact with others of their generation as a result.

Astrid left the cove at sunset feeling strangely both heavier and lighter than she had when she entered; lighter, for having shared her struggles with her family's shame, but also heavier, for having heard what she and the rest of the village had unknowingly done to Hiccup.

The end result was that she was even more determined to find a way to bring Hiccup back home. She'd never told another soul why she'd devoted her childhood to becoming the best dragon-slayer she could, even Ruffnut - with whom she shared a bond of female comradeship as the only other girl of her age in the village.

Before, she'd wanted to return Hiccup home out of concern for Stoick; now she wanted to bring him back for his sake.

The sun was setting, making the clouds above her glow brilliant orange, when Astrid returned to the training ring. Thankfully, Berk was far enough south that they never lost the sun completely, however the shortening days told her that winter and the scant few hours of daylight it allowed them would soon arrive.

Setting down the two heavy containers of scraps she'd carried from the mead hall, she cranked open the portcullis and stepped into the ring. Her eyes were immediately drawn to Stormfly's cage. No, she told herself, See to the other dragons first, then her.

She eyed the two containers of food she'd been given. Hiccup and Stormfly had both devoured similarly-sized baskets of whole fish in a single meal; the scraps she had would be barely more than a snack for the five dragons.

Well, it's better than nothing, she thought, carrying the first basket towards the Gronckle's cage. She located the slot in the door that Gobber had described, and wrenched it open with a screech of metal. Immediately she heard a growl from within the alcove and something heavy rammed into the doors. She flinched and jumped back.

Heart pounding in her ears, she quickly shoveled about a third of the 'food' - an unpleasant mixture of offal and half-eaten leftovers - through the slot, and slammed it shut, trying to ignore the soft squelching sounds as the dragon consumed it's meal. Taking a deep breath, she moved onto the next cage and repeated the process.

However, when she reached the penultimate cage - the Zippleback's - something strange happened. There was no movement from within when she opened the feeding slot. Even after she deposited the food and closed the hatch, no sound came from within. Shrugging to herself, Astrid was about to turn away when she suddenly remembered the eel that she'd thrown into the cage the day before. She didn't know why dragons found the creatures so repulsive, but being trapped in a confined space with one was probably torture for the Zippleback.

Glancing around furtively, Astrid quickly heaved downwards on the lever that opened the massive doors. Sure enough, the eel was still there, lying on the stone floor, near the centre of the alcove.

The Zippleback fixed her with a wide-eyed stare and hissed agitatedly as she approached. It cringed away from her, cramming its bulk even tighter into the far corner of the cell. Edging closer, Astrid noticed that the floor and walls around the dragon were covered with fresh scratch marks.

"I'm sorry," Astrid murmured to the dragon, "but I had to find a way to subdue you without hurting you."

The dragon didn't respond, so she crept forwards and bent to pick up the eel. "I'll get rid of this now."

The Zippleback watched her warily as she slowly stood and backed out of the cage. As soon as the doors slammed shut, she heard it lurch forwards and inhale its pile of scraps. Astrid looked at the eel in her hand for a moment, then quickly threw it into the empty food basket, wiping her slimy fingers on her leggings.

At last she could turn to her real reason for being in the ring. Despite herself, she felt her heart fluttering with nervous anticipation as she approached the Deadly Nadder's cell. She found herself hesitating as she rested her hands on the release lever - Yes, Stormfly had saved her life, but perhaps the Nadder was simply repaying her debt for repairing her wing, she had no way of knowing if the dragon would be friendly upon seeing her again. You keep telling yourself you're trying to help her, part of her whispered, but you're still her jailer.

She pushed down on the lever, then took a deep breath and stepped into the mouth of the cage. "Hey Stormfly," she began, still not quite used to talking to a dragon. "It's-"

She never finished that sentence, as with a sudden squawk, the Nadder rushed out of the alcove and butted her in the chest - hard enough to wind her - and began to nuzzle her fiercely.

"Hey girl," Astrid wheezed, raising a hand to rest on the dragon's neck. "I'm happy to see you too."

Stormfly cooed and gradually slowed her motions, bringing her wings forwards to encircle the two of them. Astrid gently patted and stroked the Nadder's head, wondering at her sudden display of affection. Eventually, it dawned on her: she was probably the first creature to show kindness to Stormfly after gods only know how long in captivity - anyone was bound to be a little over-emotional after that.

"Don't worry girl," she whispered to the dragon, "I'm not going anywhere."

Stormfly crooned affectionately, and held her close for several seconds, before at last folding her wings and slowly pulling away. The evening air felt suddenly cold on Astrid's exposed arms.

"Hey girl," Astrid began, dragging over the remaining food container. "I brought you something to eat."

She set the container down in front of the dragon and Stormfly lowered her head towards it. She sniffed at the contents, then snorted in disgust and looked up at her.

"I know," she said apologetically. "But it's all they'd give me, and I can't always steal food for you."

Stormfly grunted and stuck her head into the basket, and in a few seconds her meagre ration was gone.

Astrid stepped around towards the Nadder's injured wing. Stormfly raised her head from the basket, and followed her with her gaze, but otherwise allowed her to approach. "Can I take a look?" she asked, cautiously extending a hand.

Stormfly chirped and extended her wing to its fullest extent. Astrid leaned in close, examining the wound. "Huh, you healed quicker than I thought," she observed out loud. Where there had been a bleeding rent in Stormfly's wing membrane a couple days ago, there was now only a slight ridge of pale scar tissue, criss-crossed by the dark threads she'd used to close it.

"It looks like the the stitches can come out now," she told the dragon. Cautiously she reached for the hilt of her belt-knife - the very same knife that had sliced through the wing membrane now held inches from her face. "Don't move," she instructed, "I'll try to make this as quick as possible."

Not quite believing what she was about to do, she drew the knife and raised it to the wing. Stormfly grunted softly and shifted slightly - locking her wing straight, but otherwise didn't react to the blade held less than an inch from the most vulnerable part of her body.

For a moment, Astrid marveled at the trust Stormfly was giving her, then she gritted her teeth and focused on her task. She gently slipped the point of the knife underneath one of the threads, then with a swift jerk, sliced through the cord. Letting a soft sigh of relief, she moved the knife lower down the wound and repeated the process. It took several tense minutes for Astrid to cut each of the stitches, then carefully pull each length of severed thread from the membrane. When she'd finished, a small trickle of blood ran down Stormfly's wing from the puncture wounds left behind by the thread, but it was already drying up. Aside from that, the Nadder's wing was whole again.

Stormfly swung her head round and nosed at her scar, then shuffled backwards and gave her wings a few experimental flaps. Letting out a satisfied hum, she began to fold her wings. Halfway through the motion, she froze, fixating on a point behind Astrid.

"Stormfly, what-" Horrible realisation struck her.

She spun around.

The portcullis over the entrance was still latched wide open.

Stormfly bolted. She crossed the arena floor faster than Astrid at a full sprint.

This was it. All her carefully made plans would come to nothing.

"Stormfly, wait!" she cried in pure desperation.

The Nadder's claws skidded on the ground as she came to a stop just before the gates. She turned her head back towards Astrid, blinking,

Breathless, Astrid caught up to her and positioned herself between the dragon and the exit - not that she could stop the Nadder if she decided to leave anyway.

"I'm sorry Stormfly," she began breathlessly, "You can't leave, not now." Panic was surging in her chest, and she suddenly found herself holding back tears. "I promise I'll get you out of here someday, but please listen to me."

Stormfly blinked slowly, and tilted her head in silent question.

"Thankyou, Thank you." She took several deep breaths, trying to reign in her emotions and organise her thoughts. "There's another dragon that's depending on me." Stormfly twitched slightly in surprise. "He's a Night Fury, he used to be our chief's son, but another Night Fury transformed into one somehow. Now, he can't fly or hunt, and he's relying on me to bring food to him." Stormfly's only movement was the gentle expansion and contraction of her chest as she breathed. "If I let you go now, they - the others from the village - will know that I set you free, and they'll lock me up - or worse - and I won't be able to bring food to Hiccup, and he'll starve."

Astrid fell silent. Hoping that her jumbled, run-on explanation was good enough. She might have healed Stormfly's wing, but she was asking the Nadder to give up her freedom for the sake of a dragon she'd never met.

She counted the moments on her rapidly beating heart. She knew that Stormfly understood her words somewhat, but could she comprehend complex ideas like the relationship between her and Hiccup's survival?

Her answer came in the form of a soft croon, and a snort of hot breath on her face. Astrid stared at the dragon's head, inches away from her own, dumbfounded.

"You understood me?" she asked, disbelieving.

Stormfly chirped.

"And you're willing to stay? For Hiccup?"

The dragon chirped again.

"Thank you," Astrid breathed.

Stormfly hummed softly, and lowered her head slightly. Astrid knew what she wanted. Raising her left hand, she rested it on the dragon's muzzle, as she had when they'd first trusted each other two days ago. The Nadder hummed louder and pushed back into her palm.

Stormfly held the contact for a long moment, then pulled back and slowly stepped around her, out of the ring.

Astrid trailed after the Nadder, curious, but not overly worried.

At the top of the ramp, Stormfly stopped and stretched up to her full height, spreading her wings wide. Her eyes closed, and a purr of contentment came from the birdlike dragon. Astrid smiled, after being in captivity for so long, she wouldn't begrudge her a taste of fresh air. Her gaze slid past the dragon to the horizon, where the last, almost crimson sliver of the sun was slipping beneath the waves. After the tumultuous emotions of the last few minutes, the combination of the natural display and cool breeze was soothing.

A chirp from Stormfly, brought her attention back to the Nadder beside her. Stormfly was crouched low, gazing at her intently. She chirped again, jerking her head backwards, almost in a beckoning motion.

Astrid wondered what Stormfly was trying to tell her, the dragon's posture was so low that the peak of her back was about the height of Astrid's hips, if she'd wanted to she could-

No way.

She couldn't really-

Stormfly made the beckoning motion again.

She stared at the Nadder incredulously. "You want me to ride you!?"

Stormfly chirped affirmatively and shuffled her hindquarters in excitement.

Conflicting thoughts span through Astrid's head. At some point in their lives every Viking on the archipelago - even her - had looked up at the dragons and dreamed of what it must be like to take to the skies and soar amongst the clouds; how many times did one get the chance to actually realise that dream? No, part of her refused; helping an innocent victim of war was one thing, but to actually get onto the creature's back...

Stormfly trilled encouragingly.

Astrid grit her teeth and pushed aside her reservations. Stormfly had trusted her when she had to right to it, it was time that she showed some faith in return.

Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on Stormfly's back, and with a soft grunt, swung her leg over the Nadder.

I'm okay, Astrid told herself as she settled into position. Just sitting on the back of a-

"Woah!"

Stormfly lurched beneath her, and Astrid fell forwards, thrusting out her hands to avoid spearing herself on the spines sticking out the back of Stormfly's head.

Heart pounding in her chest, she slowly sat up. The ground suddenly looked a lot further away; Stormfly had stood up. The Nadder turned her head sideways and looked back at her, warbling questioningly.

Astrid shuffled forwards, so her legs rested comfortably between the Nadder's hips and wing-shoulders. Stormfly's muscles flexed beneath her as the dragon slowly spread her wings. Distantly, Astrid remembered riding a horse at a þing several years ago; being on dragonback was strangely similar. She exhaled slowly. "This isn't so bad..."

Stormfly suddenly crouched again, and Astrid felt the muscles beneath her tense. She had the presence of mind to tighten her legs around Stormfly's ribs, before the dragon launched into the air.

Astrid cried out in terror. Her legs clamped painfully tight around Stormfly, and she was blinded by a sudden ferocious wind. A split-second later - as their upwards velocity began to wane - she felt the muscles beneath her surge and they shot forwards, gaining height and speed. For a heart-stopping moment she felt them begin to slow and fall back. Then the wings drove again.

Minutes and seconds ceased to have meaning for Astrid as she clung to Stormfly, eyes screwed tightly shut. Her existence was defined by breath-stealing acceleration as the Nadder flapped, then a terrifying lull, before the cycle repeated. Oh great Odin, she prayed, I'm sorry, just please don't let me die here.

Then, as abruptly as their ascent had begun, it ceased.

The wind in her face dropped to a steady breeze, and the muscles beneath her stilled, flapping once every few seconds.

Gradually, Astrid unwrapped her cramped arms from around Stormfly's neck and sat up, looking around at her surroundings.

She immediately forgot the discomfort in her limbs.

Stormfly hung in the air, suspended on two great sails of blue patterned skin. Off her right wing was a massive bulbous structure, glowing peach in the setting sun. It took Astrid a moment to realise that it was a cloud. Feeling dwarfed, she craned her neck backwards, trying to see the top; from the ground she'd never realised that clouds were so damn huge.

She turned to look out to sea, over Stormfly's left shoulder. She had been watching the last minutes of the sunset before she got onto the dragon's back, yet somehow, impossibly, the sun was still setting. Stormfly's wings stilled, and they glided smoothly as Astrid watched the sun slip below the horizon in silent awe.

As twilight began to descend, Stormfly looked back at her, humming in contentment. Astrid leaned forwards and patted her on the neck, "Thank you, Stormfly," she breathed. "This is... amazing."

Stormfly trilled happily and banked into a slight turn. Astrid's heart leapt into her throat for a moment, but the motion proved gentle enough that she wasn't in any danger of falling off.

Astrid gasped as their turn brought the island into view, and she looked down on her village. From a dragon's-eye view, her home looked pitifully small, and beyond that, fragile - was that small patch of cultivated land, surrounding a cluster of wooden buildings it?

She suddenly remembered the bright sky at their backs, and nudged Stormfly's head away from her home. "We'd better stay away from the village," she responded to the Nadder's querying grunt. "We don't want to be seen by a watchman."

Stormfly hummed, and banked into another turn, angling away from Berk, towards the uninhabited side of the island. Astrid slowly loosened her grip on Stormfly's neck and extended her arms at her sides, feeling the air rushing through her fingers.

She felt a girlish giggle bubble up in her chest, and escape her lips before she could stop it - she was actually flying!

While twilight ebbed, and true night approached, Astrid marveled at the wonders of Stormfly's lofty domain. She could almost feel Stormfly's rapture at being able to ride the winds again, and she treated her rider to a series of long sweeping turns, and gradual climbs and descents from the tops of the clouds, to just above the wave-caps.

Her fear completely forgotten, Astrid didn't want to ever come down. However her body had other ideas; the continual motion of Stormfly's wings caused her scales to chafe against Astrid's thighs, and the constant, driving wind sliced through her thin clothing, stealing the heat from her body.

By the time the Moon rose - and Berk lit up with a multitude of glittering torches - she felt a faint sense of relief when Stormfly began to glide back down towards the ring.

Astrid braced herself as they came in over the cliffs, and let out a grunt of pain as the shock of landing traveled up through Stormfly's legs to her own hips. The nadder ran forwards a few steps - shedding her remaining momentum - then came to a stop. Astrid took her cue, and slid down from Stormfly's back, allowing the dragon to fold her wings against her flanks.

Her legs gave out when they hit the ground, and she would have fallen, if not for Stormfly lunging forwards and catching her with her snout. "Thanks girl," she gasped, pulling herself up by the dragon's neck. She held the contact, reluctant to let go of the dragon that had just shown her the skies. "Thank you," she repeated, "for everything."

Stormfly chuffed in response, then pulled away and - without prompting - ducked back into the arena.

Astrid's hands unconsciously balled into fists as she followed Stormfly across the ring, back to her prison. With a start, she realised that she hated the war, she hated that this would forever mar the memory of her wondrous flight with Stormfly.

Her gaze met the Nadder's as she turned in her alcove. If the dragon could speak, Astrid knew what she would say:

I've shown you what I'm giving up, now you'd better keep your promise.

"I will," she breathed as the cage doors slammed shut. "Even if it kills me."

Icelandic:
þing (pronounced 'pink') - A regular assembly of clans in the Viking period, where matters of law were discussed, also known as a 'thing' in english.

Author's Notes:

Whew! 40,000 words of a 'How to Train Your Dragon' fanfic, and FINALLY a main character gets into the air, I hope the wait was worth it!

Anyway, this was a whole chapter of Astrid POV, as I needed to develop her character, and relationship with Stormfly further before I can start bringing in the plot elements I have waiting in the wings (no pun intended), and also because I've discovered that I love writing Astrid and Stormfly. Seriously, writing the two of them interacting is just so much damn fun. Never fear, Hiccup fans, we will be returning to him in the next chapter!

My original plan for this chapter didn't include the scene between Astrid and Hiccup in the cove; that sequence kind of happened off-the-cuff as I wanted to include at least some Hiccup in this chapter, and because I realised that Astrid didn't really know anything about the boy she was risking everything for, so I hope that her realisation and change of heart towards him didn't feel too sudden.

A fun technical note: The comment about the sun still appearing to set after Stormfly took off is a real-world effect that can be explained with some fairly simple geometry: By raising the height of one's eyes (in this case by getting on the back of a dragon) you can see further around the earth's surface, and hence the sunset appears to 'reverse'.

My fanfic recommendation for you this time, is Of the Night: Choices, Change and Fate by Mathmonkey167, which originally came to my attention via regular reviewer QuiteARandomFan. The original Of the Night - which CC&F is the follow-up to - is a rather forgettable ToothlessxOC romance. However, the sequel follows Hiccup and Astrid's oldest daughter, and her dragon - Toothless' eldest hatchling - as they run away from Berk at the start of the story, and three years later, encounter another village and help them make peace with Dragons. Eventually, they end up returning to Berk with the rest of the village in tow. Although, that plot summary really doesn't do it justice, along the way there are battles with pirates, betrayals, love triangles - both dragon and human - and... these notes would be twice as long as they are already if I tried to list everything I love about this story. Suffice it to say; this a true epic, and is well worth taking the time to read.

Finally, as always, thank you for reading, and please let me know what you thought of the chapter in a review!

~Superbun

Review Responses:

Noctus Fury - Regarding the two fanfics I previously recommended, suffice it to say that both Spidermaster's 'Call of the Night' and Tavalya Ra's 'The Path Between the Worlds' both sink the good ship HMS Hiccstrid somewhat spectacularly.

About Hiccup's dragon instincts: You got it about right, yes he has them, but his mind is still (mostly) human at this point, so he doesn't know how to use his instincts. Take his fire for example: The first time he used it, it was entirely instinctual, but after he'd done it once, he could figure out how to do it consciously.

The Dark Eccentric - Thank you for pointing out the few typos I left in the previous chapter, I wasn't particularly happy with it when I posted it, so I only gave it a cursory glance-over in editing.

Yes, the last chapter and the first half of this one were "plot bookkeeping" - I had a list of things that needed to happen in the story before the next major plot point - so that was a bit of a pain to write (fun fact: I actually started this chapter twice, I got about 1,200 words into the first attempt before I realised I was going in the wrong direction and had to scrap it and start over). Now that's out of the way I can start writing scenes like this one, which i've been waiting to do since I first wrote down my ideas for this story!

Goldspark1 - What I was trying to show with Hiccup's training scene with Astrid in the last chapter was Hiccup realising that combat is an intellectual challenge as well as a physical one, and now that he has the body of a dragon, he's able to enjoy the problem-solving aspect of it (especially after being cooped up in the cove for several days).