Fourteen: Say you felt sorry for me.

"If you need a friend, if you need help…call me!" Astrid said, smiling and then she ran off down the hill. Watching her go, he gathered up his sword and walked carefully through the centre of the plaza and returned it to the forge. He couldn't believe that he had actually threatened Snotlout with blackmailing him about his kidnapping of Hiccup and his attempt to rape him…and he feared that the boy and his odious father would hunt him down and really make him regret the act. His shoulders were still scored from the beatings they had given him as he slaved in their home and he knew there was precisely nothing he could do to if they ambushed him again. He would have to be very careful where he went and who he was with.

He was still deep in thought as he arrived back at the forge and Gobber was sarcastic at him for dreaming when he asked him how his weapons lesson had gone. His cheeks flared with shame: he doubted that he could be more useless and he knew that even in unarmed combat, he was probably the most hopeless in the village. Gobber read his self-consciousness and brashly-but kindly-teased him about it-and the fact he had the best young warrior in the village as his trainer. Perversely, that made him feel worse, Snotlout's cruel taunt echoing through his memory.

I don't want you tainted by dealing with this slave!

And that was probably what he was doing, he admitted to himself. She was a respected warrior, training to be a Shield Maiden with a high value to her tribe and to her family-and he seemed to be akin to a leper, corrupting all he touched. But he still mustered a small smile at the memory of her kindness and her dazzling smile and turned back to the remaining work at the forge in good heart. He would endure Snotlout's cruelty and the general unfriendliness of the villagers if he could spend a few hours with Astrid and be treated almost as if he was a normal person.

On the way home, he heard something that made his blood run cold: echoing from a small alley between two houses were the sounds of several voices menacing another, which was speaking defiantly back. Every sense of sanity told him that he should walk on by…but he hated the idea that he would allow someone to be menaced and beaten if he could step in. Even though the odds were that he would get his ass handed to him in the process. So he slid through the shadows and saw three boys surrounding a slightly smaller boy. The 'victim' was maybe three or four years younger than Hiccup, maybe a head shorter and much feistier. The kid had a small viking helmet on, jet hair, big grey eyes and scruffy clothes…but he was giving as good as he got in the shouting match. It was only when one of the larger boys-a spotty kid with brown hair and pallid blue eyes-grabbed his vest that Hiccup stepped forward.

"Hey!" he said, grabbing the fist that the spotty boy had raised to punch the smaller boy. Instantly, every eye was on him.

"It's him!"

"The bed slave!"

"OOO! What's he gonna do? Kiss us to death?"

"Let. Him. Go!" Hiccup said firmly, hoping they wouldn't notice his knees were shaking. To his eye, they all looked about the same as as their victims: maybe two or three years his junior…not that made much of a difference. Most people guessed he was about that age because of his small size.

"Or what?" the largest boy asked insolently. He was stocky and strong-looking, his blond hair cut unevenly and blue eyes scornful-and he was already taller and broader than Hiccup.

"Guess…" Hiccup suggested, narrowing his green eyes. "Guess what I learned during years on Meathead and Berserk?" The other two turned to face him directly, letting the smaller boy go.

"Hah! Like you learned anything except…" the 'victim' piped up, his grey eyes growing cold as he looked at his would-be rescuer.

"Shut up, Gustav!" the larger boy growled. "I wanna know what this…this girl…thinks he can do to us!"

"Um…I wouldn't use the word 'girl' as an insult in Astrid's hearing," he advised them and then backed up a pace as all four boys lined up against him. "But did you wonder why Snotlout has a bloody nose and a black eye? And who gave them to him?"

They all laughed in his face and he backed up another pace.

"That's hilarious!" they scoffed. "You-fighting Snot? You must think we're idiots, slave? We all know you're a coward-hiding in the Hall during the Raid when the rest of us were out defending our homes! D'you think anyone will believe you're anything but a coward? A Viking must fight! And you're not a Viking!"

He couldn't help it, his shoulders curled and his head dropped at the insult. It had taken a lot of courage to go in the direction of the voices, to put himself at risk in a village where he seemed to be almost universally despised to help someone being threatened…but he had because he knew it was the right thing to do. They started laughing at him and he backed up, then ran, heading in the direction of the forge. he knew it was closed but there was a small entrance at the back where he could hide and compose himself, where he could forget that everyone in this village thought he was utterly worthless-even the dragons.

oOo

It was almost dusk when he felt safe enough to emerge, his ears still ringing with the shameful laughter. With a shiver of dismay, he realised that no matter what he tried, Alva had done her work well in making them see him not as Hiccup but as a bed-slave and something to be despised. He knew he had worth, that he worked hard in the forge, that he was learning to use a weapon and that he wanted to fit in…but no one was prepared to give him a chance…no one except Stoick, Gobber, Astrid and Fishlegs. And then he sighed: four names. That was four more people who were prepared to be friends to him than had been for almost four long years. Achingly, he pulled himself to his feet.

The temperature was dropping and he could see the flickering of lamps and fires under the doors of houses. The shadows were deeper and he felt a sense of foreboding, wondering what in the name of all the Gods had possessed him to try to blackmail Snotlout after Spitelout's bone-chilling threat the previous night. He hastened his walk up towards the Chief's house, seeing the silhouette of the roof against the pink sky and hoped that Stoick hadn't heard about the way he had been chased away by the younger boys: he didn't want to embarrass the Chief any more.

He caught voices again, floating from another dark alley. Hunching his shoulders, he dug his chin into his chest and made to walk past, having learnt his lesson…and then he heard the sounds of a child's voice, hitching with tears. He froze, glancing around the plaza and seeing he was the only one there. And he wondered what sort of village this was, where bullying and violence seemed to be an everyday thing. The voice sounded again, high and soft and female…this time, they were picking on a small girl. He sighed, then turned and trotted into the gloom, treading softly as he closed on the confrontation. And then he felt an unfamiliar curl of anger warm his chest.

The four boys-including the possible victim, 'Gustav'-were surrounding a much younger girl, maybe five or six only and holding a cloth doll protectively to her chest. As Hiccup listened, they sneered and taunted her, pushing her around and then grabbing her doll.

"Give her back!" the little girl shouted, her cheeks streaked with tears.

"Awww…come and get her, Eva!" the spotty boy sneered, holding the doll out of her reach. She ran at him, jumping fearlessly, her little blonde plait bouncing as she snatched at the doll, moved cruelly out of reach. He threw the doll to the largest boy and then over to Gustav, who wafted it in front of the girl then snatched it away from her swift grasp. Cruelly, he shoved her back and she stumbled and landed on the ground.

"Give it back!" she shouted, her cheeks red with anger and upset, scrabbling to her feet. She ran at Spotty but he pushed her down again-hard-and grabbed the doll.

"Say please!" he sneered.

"Say sorry!" she replied spiritedly, scrambling up and jumping for the doll. They threw her down again and kicked her. The boy ripped an arm off her doll.

"Say please or I'll tear her to bits!" he sneered.

Hiccup hit him waist high, the momentum carrying them both to the ground. The boy was bigger than him but Hiccup had managed to pin him, ripping the doll from his grasp with hands stronger than expected by his work in the forge and years of hard manual labour as a slave.

"Get off her!" he said coldly, tossing the doll to the little girl. His forest green gaze flicked to look at her shocked face, seeing relief and gratitude in her azure eyes. "Run!" he told her and she needed no further encouragement, dodging past the other boys and making the plaza, then vanishing. Spotty threw Hiccup and he rolled, seeing the boys regain their senses and decide there was more fun to be had here. He got up, backing away, his fists raised. It had been an instinctive reaction, a desire to protect a smaller person cruelly victimised as he had been-and still was. The boys closed on him and he knew this wouldn't end well. And then the first punch landed…

But he fought back, not caring that they were probably younger than him because they were almost all-except Gustav-larger than him. And though they didn't hold him helpless as the twins had, they did outflank him and though he landed a few good shots-because he had bruised Snotlout, no matter what the boys had sneered at him-he was coming out the wrong end of the fight. One against four was never going to be good odds and as Hiccup slid to the floor, lip bleeding and eye bruising, he realised that he was going to regret this.

The fourth kick had slammed into his side and his head was spinning when he heard a shout and a sudden movement had the boys backing away. A confident, menacing shape was approaching, the dull reflected pink light of sunset gleaming across the keen edge of an axe.

"I suggest you go now before I really get angry!" Astrid growled to the boys, twirling her axe menacingly. They all backed off.

"It's only a bit of fun…" Spotty said defensively.

"Yeah, really looks like it, Espen!" Astrid snapped. "Gustav-I hear your mother has been calling for you for ten minutes. She sounded really mad!" The smaller boy gulped and ran without a backwards glance. "Ove-your nose is bleeding onto your tunic: your mother will be furious." Said boy-the fourth, a scrawny lad with brown hair and eyes, swiped at his nose with the sleeve of his tunic, showing he was stupid as well as violent. "And you, Jorn…" Her azure gaze turned coldly on the largest boy who still had a handful of Hiccup's tunic in his hand. "…if I catch you again, I will ensure that Gobber doesn't take you on in Dragon Training until you are old and grey. Understand?"

"Yes, Astrid!" the reluctant and resentful voices mumbled as Hiccup was dropped onto the ground.

"Now GO!" she snapped and watched them leave, her fingers tapping on the haft of her axe. Slowly, Hiccup rolled to his knees, everything aching and his cheeks scorching with embarrassment as he realised she had just saved him from another beating. Could he get any more useless? But she walked forward and stuck out a hand in business-like way, hauling him to his feet and watching him press the heel of his hand to his lip.

"Th-thanks…" he murmured, staring hard at the floor. She sighed, her expression softening and gently leading him back out into the gloomy plaza, breaths coming in small clouds now. As soon as he was there, a small shape crashed into his middle, drawing a wince and causing him to stiffen in fear…until he realised it was the little girl, Eva.

"Thank you!" she said happily, her small arms managing to get almost all the way round his very skinny waist. "Thank you! You saved Bente!" He frowned as he glanced down.

"I…um…" he said, confused as she lifted her head to smile happily at him and then showed him her damaged rag doll.

"Those boys were going to hurt her and you saved her!" she told him with childish logic, ignoring the fact that she had also been in danger of being hurt. He gently returned the hug.

"You're welcome…" he admitted.

"EVA!" The harsh voice rang across the plaza and the girl lifted her head, her eyes worried. She pulled away from Hiccup and turned to face the blonde woman, storming down the plaza and grabbing her hand urgently. "Eva! What have I told you? Stay away from that boy! He's some tainted, nasty slave. He services men! He's just…trash!" Head dropping, the little girl stared at her doll and nodded.

"Okay, Mom. Sorry. I won't forget again," she said in a small voice and was dragged away, the woman casting Hiccup a deeply unpleasant look. He sighed and rested a hand against his bruised side.

"Thanks," he said in an embarrassed voice, stealing a look at Astrid, who was glaring after the woman.

"Stupid…" she murmured, shaking her head before she turned back to look at him, seeing the fresh bruises on his face. Unexpectedly, she grabbed his tunic and dragged him close, pressing a firm kiss on his lips.

Eyes popping in shock, senses overloaded with awe at her soft lips, her fresh scent of pine and honeysuckle and the softness of her hair as is brushed his face, he froze. He had no clue what was going on or why but something in his chest exploded and for that moment, he would endure a hundred beatings if this moment could last forever.

It didn't: too soon, she pulled away with a soft smile of thanks on her lips. He was trembling and not daring to breathe as she laid a hand on his bruised cheek.

"Thank you," she said, "for saving my sister." He blinked in utter shock: Astrid's sister? The Gods really did enjoy playing with him, didn't they?

"Y-you're welcome," he managed in a squeak and she giggled: it had been so unmanly! He was already cringing inwardly as she punched him in the arm and he yelped. "Wh-what was that for?" he whimpered.

"For getting beaten up!" she told him. He frowned.

"Um…why does punching me for getting beaten up make any sense to you?" he asked warily and she smiled, giving him a friendly shove that nearly pushed him over.

"It's the Viking way," she explained. "It's how we communicate!" And then she saw his wariness and had to remind herself that he had probably experienced a lot of that sort of communication-for all the wrong reasons. Unbidden, a smile warned her beautiful face and her eyes shone: despite the treatment he had experienced, he had still jumped in to save a young girl from four much larger boys, knowing he couldn't fight well enough to protect himself. And that was bravery which any Viking should admire. She took his hand.

"You know, Hiccup, I think it's time for the evening meal in the Great Hall," she said and he stared at her, still reeling from the kiss. "You wanna come?"

"You want me to come with you?" His voice was very wary, suspicious that this was some prelude to another humiliation. She nodded, her grip on his hand tightening.

"Yes, Hiccup-I want to be seen in the Great Hall eating with the man who rescued my sister from four bullies!" she told him firmly. There was a long pause…and then his forest green eyes sparkled with delight and shone with gratitude.

"Th-thank you," he said in a humble voice. "I…you don't know how much that means to me…" She pulled him towards the steps up to the Hall and grinned.

"No…but I want to," she assured him. "That's what friends are for."

He kept expecting Snotlout or Spitelout or maybe Thor himself to fall on him as he walked up the very long flight of stairs in the hill that led to the Great Hall with Astrid still holding his hand. It was certain that he had upset some fundamental law of nature by even being in the company of the most beautiful girl on Berk and he surreptitiously carded his free hand through his wild, tousled auburn hair and tried to wipe the blood from his face with the rag Astrid had given him. But as they approached the double doors, the warm light spilling through and the murmur of voices and waft of warmth emerging, he paused and pulled her back.

"Are-are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her earnestly. "I-I mean, you've seen how they look at me? I don't want them looking at you like that as well! You-you go ahead and I'll come in afterwards. At least that way you don't have to be shamed by being with me." She paused and her eyes narrowed.

"Don't you want to eat with me?" she asked him pointedly and he shook his head urgently.

"No, no, no, no no…I mean yes I do…but I don't want you to be made to feel shamed by being with me," he gabbled frantically, his arms waving wildly. Then suddenly, all the fight oozed from his body. "I really like you, Astrid," he admitted in a tiny voice, "and I am more grateful than I can ever say that you're helping me learn to use a sword. I just don't want you to be ruined by being seen with me…" Inclining her head, she inspected his pale face, reading his genuine concern for her. She caught his hand again and smiled.

"It'll be okay," she reassured him. "I'm a warrior: I can stand a little pain!"

"Yeah…but being anywhere near me seems to cause a lot of pain," he sighed.

The level of noise dropped noticeably as they walked in, side by side and Astrid lifted her chin, smiled and walked confidently forward. Hiccup followed, his head down and walking very self-consciously. The murmurs began as he began to pass the people already seated, hisses and comments that cause him the flinch in shame and cast a worried glance at Astrid, who was already at the pots, sniffing what was on offer and grabbing a couple of bowls. Hiccup came up and frowned: it smelled like a hearty fish stew and rye bread and Astrid very pointedly tore him a large hunk and filled his bowl to the brim before serving herself. He accepted with a smile and watched her carry on as if everything was normal. It was only when she lifted her bowl and a cup of watered mead that she met a wall of blank stares. Frowning she turned to look at the boy by her side, his shoulders rounded and eyes downcast. The murmurs were audible, people pointing at her as if she was some exotic beast and she snapped her head back to glare at them as well. Then she marched to a nearby table and pointedly sat down, beckoning Hiccup to join her. But as he approached, the other three people sitting at the end of the table got up and moved dispersing to other tables in the Hall. Astrid stiffened and stared after them, her mouth agape.

"As I said, I cause a lotta pain," Hiccup said in a small voice. He saw her cheeks flushed with anger and…embarrassment? And then he sighed: she hadn't realised exactly what it would be like…and now she was wondering how she could get out of the well-meaning gesture she had made which could damage her so catastrophically. "I don't mind," he added softly. "Go to your family or friends. regain your honour. Tell them you felt sorry for me, that I was really pathetic…but for the Gods sake, go! I don't want you harmed any more!"

She stared at him and read the honest concern in his battered face…and she gave a small smile, nodding with thanks for understanding as she rose and grabbed her plate, rising from the bench and turning away. And then she looked back and saw the small, skinny shape, bowed at the table, the plate sitting untouched in front of him, his head staring at the table: she turned round and saw the intensity of the glares that shot hatefully at the outsider. And then she looked back: what had he done that was wrong? He had been sold into slavery by his village, treated monstrously cruelly and beaten and raped as a consequence. Their Chief, Stoick, had taken pity on the young man and rescued him…but the village hadn't seen past the history he had no control over. And what he did have control over was his conduct here-working hard, supporting the forge, learning a weapon…and rescuing her sister. She pointedly turned back and sat at his side, seeing him jump in shock as her plate banged down again by his.

"And I don't want you harmed either," she told him gently. "But every time they call you names and exclude you from the village you supposedly live in, it does hurt you, doesn't it?" He paused then gave a small poke at the stew aimlessly with his spoon. "I-I don't understand why they treat me like this…well, I do, but it's nothing I could do anything about," he said quietly. "I-I try so hard but all I get is constant reminders of times I will never forget and need no reminder of." He swallowed. "But I am an outsider and though your Chief is very kind, he cannot control his people. So I am a pariah and this seems to be my life. And I hope, in the Spring, when ships come in, I may be able to hitch a passage away from here, to some place where no one will know what happened in the Port, where no one will keep calling me a slave and reminding me of the most horrific day of my life!"

"Hiccup…" she began, munching her stew quietly. " I can see who you are. Who you really are. And though you aren't big and strong, you are brave and determined. I know you will learn to use that sword and I know one day, you will develop the confidence you need."

"Yeah…one day," he muttered, taking a tiny mouthful of the stew. "Maybe when I'm a hundred…"

"What are you doing over here, Princess?" Both teens sighed at the unwelcome sound of Snotlout's voice, floating arrogantly across the Hall as the Heir walked over, his blue eyes sweeping calculatingly across the battered shape of Hiccup. "What is he doing with you?"

"Eating his meal," Astrid said calmly, taking another mouthful. Snotlout sat across from her, the twins and Fishlegs standing behind him. Hiccup's green gaze flicked up in dismay at the sight of the husky boy, who was looking embarrassed. And Hiccup understood-he really did! Fishlegs had been given a choice to be Hiccup's friend or be part of the popular crowd and he had chosen the winner, the Heir: it was the only logical choice. He knew the large boy was timid and lacking in self confidence so he could hardly blame the boy for looking out for himself. He just hoped that maybe the boy may still talk to him when no one else was around.

"But he's a filthy little man-whore and you're my future Chieftess!" Snotlout pointed out. "You get seen with him and your price goes down. Maybe I might even not want you any more." Her blue eyes flicked up and her face hardened.

"Good," she said. As Snotlout's fists clenched, Hiccup felt his own body tense, anticipating another beating as soon as Snotlout cornered him.

"Babe," he said in a low, menacing voice, "you wouldn't like Berk if you aren't my Chieftess. Because I will have you one day-and I think you'd like it better as my wife than the alternative…" He paused and his cruel gaze flicked to Hiccup. "And you…better pray you're dead or gone when I become Chief-because your life will be a living Hel if you are on Berk on that day!"

"Snotlout…you lay a hand on me against my will-Chief or not-and you will lose that hand. Understand?" Astrid asked him sweetly. The boy glared at her.

"Your father will sell you to me when I ask it," he threatened. "So you better get used to it…babe!" And he got up and stalked away. Hiccup rubbed his forehead, shaking his head miserably. Astrid snorted.

"He's an idiot," she scoffed.

"Yeah, noticed that," Hiccup sighed. "Gods help this island if he becomes Chief. He'll get you killed within a week…probably because he's too busy preening to notice whatever threat is coming or makes a dumb decision due to temper or arrogance.."

"Hiccup…what was staying with him like?" she asked him in a quiet voice. He started tearing his hunk of bread into smaller and smaller pieces, aimlessly reducing the hunk to crumbs.

"You-you don't wanna know," he murmured wretchedly. Her hand gently landed on his wrist and he stilled, his shamed forest green eyes flicking up to meet her gentle blue gaze.

"I-I think I may need to," she sighed. "He's right about one thing: if his father offers enough money, my father will agree a marriage contract with him and I will be honour- and duty-bound to wed him." Hiccup shuddered.

"Um…it's all about Snotlout," he admitted. "He's very selfish, self-centred and tolerates nothing that goes against what he wants. He's a coward, a liar and a lazy and greedy idiot. Oh, and his personal hygiene is very questionable." He shuddered and she stared at him: his words had been toneless, consciously hiding his emotional response to the memory. With a jolt of shock, she realised that his time with the Jorgensens had been much worse than he was letting on.

"Wow. Something to look forward to," she sighed sarcastically.

"ASTRID!"

"And now my father…" she groaned. Hiccup flinched and curled up tighter, hearing fury in the man's voice. Ivar Hofferson was a tall, imposing man with blonde hair and blue eyes, just like his oldest daughter, but he was powerfully built and everything about him screamed of his pride in his beautiful and accomplished warrior daughter. Both the teens looked up as he stormed over, his face ruddy with fury that she was jeopardising her reputation by such wilful stupidity. With a sigh, she glanced up and met her father's angry glare.

"What do you think you're doing, Astrid? Come away at once!" he snapped.

"Father, I..." she began, trying to explain but Ivar Hofferson was beyond listening.

"Do you not realise how much of your value you could damage by associating with this slave?" he snapped. "I must insist that you come over and sit away from this...thing."

"But Father he..."

"No, Astrid! You are my daughter and it is my duty to protect you!" he told her sternly. "Your price can be rapidly devalued by such an unwise act! Get up-now!" She glanced up and read an order that she dared not obey, dipping her head in reluctant obedience. Peering though her bangs, she flicked an apologetic azure gaze at Hiccup, reading absolution. He gave a small nod as she lifted her plate again and rose.

"Sorry," she breathed so softly her father wouldn't hear but he stared at the plate and said nothing, though his shoulders had slumped.

"Going so soon?" a familiar voice asked and all three turned to see the Chief walking towards the table with his own bowl of stew and Gobber at his side. Turning and trying to change the grim expression on his face, Ivar Hofferson nodded curtly.

"I am afraid so, Chief," he said firmly. "My wife wishes to speak with my daughter…"

"A shame…since I also wished to speak to Astrid," Stoick said mildly, stopping by the table. "Especially since I presume your wife can speak with Astrid later when you return home…" Ivar ground his teeth but gave a small nod.

"As you say, Stoick," he said emotionlessly. "Astrid-be polite to the Chief. We will discuss this later at home."

"Yes, Father," she said calmly and sat back down by Hiccup. Watching Ivar march off, Stoick sat opposite the teens and inspected them closely.

"Thank you, Astrid," he said. "I really am very grateful that you are teaching Hiccup how to fight. I think…his inexperience would mean the other teens wouldn't treat him well if I asked him to join formal weapons training."

"I understand, sir," she said calmly. "I believe you are right. And I promise I will continue with his lessons." The Chief nodded and turned his attentions to Hiccup, sitting staring at his stew. He was picking at it, hungry but so self-conscious he couldn't bring himself to do anything but eat quietly. With a flash of insight, Astrid realised she had made him feel worse, with so many eyes on him and so many people demanding she step away from him. Her keen eyes picked out the tremble in his hand as he lifted his spoon.

"Hmm…it looks as if you have been practising without Astrid," the Chief commented, taking a huge mouthful of stew. Hiccup started, horribly conscious of the new bruises.

"Um…yeah…" he murmured. Stoick put his spoon down and stared at the boy, knowing full well that Hiccup wasn't a fighter because he knew he would come out second best.

"Would you care to tell me why?" Stoick's tone was a little cooler than he meant because he had the security and peace in the village to consider. Hiccup sighed, feeling Gobber's eyes on him as well.

"I heard four boys bullying and shoving around a young girl so I tried to stop them," he admitted. "I managed to get her away but then it didn't go so well. Well, four against one never does…so…um…I really need those lessons…" Stoick stared at him and his eyes narrowed. "Um…I had to be rescued by Astrid but that's okay because she did come to help me and I'm sorry…" Hiccup dropped his head.

"You ran to stop four boys all on your own?" the Chief checked. "Who were they?"

"Ove Halvardson, Gustav Larson, Espen Nilson and Jorn Ulrickson," Astrid reported smartly.

"Hmm…" Stoick's expression was calculating. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention." Eating quietly, Hiccup felt his stomach sink. The moment the Chief intervened, there would be four more people in the village with a particular grudge against him, four more families that would make his life Hel. His forest green gaze flicked up and he saw the glare in Ivar Hofferson's eyes. Scratch that-five. And he knew in his heart, no matter Astrid's intentions, that he would not be allowed to have any more weapons lessons with Astrid Hofferson.