Title: on rings and kings and fancy house mottos
Rating: T for curse words, slight(?) violence and an innuendo
Genre: Romance, Drama
Disclaimer: (holy fudge, I can't believe I left this out in the previous chapter. O.O) I own nothing.
Warnings: No beta. Boring first part because of formalities. Also, a bit of violence. Weird characterization (kindly see further explanation at the end of the chapter should you be interested). Furthermore, I must admit that I get too carried away when I'm writing, so my writing style is atrociously verbose. I will not hold it against you should you skip the entire chapter because of it.
Can't believe I forgot to mention this in the previous chapter as well, but I should warn you: English isn't my first language, so there are bound to be grammatical and typographical errors.
Pre-story notes: Holy fudge. Thanks for everything. Seriously. The faves, the follows, the reviews. I did not expect that. I didn't think I deserve all of your attention, but you gave them anyway. So thank you so much, readers, from the bottom of my heart. Just. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
(I also re-uploaded the previous chapter because formatting. And disclaimer. X) )
I hope you enjoy the next chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!
She supposed that a dreamer had gotten lost in the battlefield.
Even from her vantage point atop her steed, she could tell that he was rather short and scrawny for someone his age. He donned no armor and he brought no weapons; his only protection was a green long-sleeved tunic beneath a brown fur coat, and she briefly wondered what a commoner like him was doing in the combat zone. His face was of an agreeable oval shape, liberally dusted with freckles and framed with a nest of messy yet soft auburn tresses and a set of eyes with a pigment not unlike the color of a vast forest after the onslaught of rain. But she had noticed that he had stood so alarmingly awkward amidst the fire and chaos that she had to swoop in and save his ass from a zippleback that was behind him.
They exchanged a few words and it was then that she realized that this was not a dreamer.
This was a fool.
.
.
.
.
.
"You jest me, commoner. I fight in this battlefield to protect my people from the threat of dragons, and yet here you are, dreaming of the impossible. Helheim will freeze over before humans can live alongside dragons. Such time of peace and harmony can only be attained once one side loses and the other triumphs!"
.
.
.
"Want to bet?"
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.
A heartbeat, then—
"This is not a time for such frivolities, commoner! People are dying right now as we speak, and the longer I stay here, the more I will not be able to save them. Know that I am willing to forfeit my life for anyone in danger against dragons, but I cannot help you with your fancies. Save your jokes for someone else willing to believe your outrageous vision."
"And what makes you think I am joking? I am risking my life the same way you are risking yours, perhaps even more. My vision may seem impossible, perhaps crazily and hopelessly so, but I am willing to forfeit my life as well for the sake of this hope. Why don't I prove to you the plausibility of living alongside dragons? My wager still stands."
.
.
.
.
.
She supposed there was no harm in it, if only on the account of his life—
"I'm not usually so inclined to agree to a wager but I'll humor you to end this conversation. Before I marry, the entirety of the Wilderwest must have already embraced dragons by then. The Dragon Wars should have stopped and everyone, including those in Reiynor, should be able to live with dragons side by side. Should this not come to pass, I'll collect you as a betrothal gift and have you serve my husband for the rest of your life."
"And if it will, you'll have to—"
.
.
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Oh, what a crazy fool this boy was.
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"—marry me."
ON RINGS AND KINGS AND FANCY HOUSE MOTTOS
Act Two
How can I tell her
How fierce my love for her is?
Will she understand
That the love I feel for her
Burns like Ibuki's fire plant?
—Fujiwara no Sanekata Ason, One Hundred Poets, One Poem [Each]
"Presenting the Royal Family of Reiynor, House Hofferson!"
Astrid followed the rest of her family as they ascended the steps leading to the huge stage of the fighting pit, careful to look demure yet dignified, elegant yet imposing. A princess must always maintain a regal gait, her mother had always said. It wasn't a time for princess lectures right now, but her mother's teachings had been fully ingrained in her psyche that her every movement might as well be a testament to the Queen's lessons. The crowd cheered at their arrival.
It was an hour past luncheon now, which meant that the ceremony was about to start. It was to be held in Reiynor's fighting pit, a colossus of an arena where her people gathered to witness chariot racing, jousting tourneys, and basically any other brawl that her people could think of. The people of the Kingdom of Reiynor were warriors by nature and it wasn't uncommon for them to organize fights that would prove themselves as skilled combatants.
The fighting pit was perfect for competitive combats: it was a circular stone structure with perimeter seating tiers that could accommodate at least a thousand spectators. Columns dotted along the edges of the arena bearing weapons of different natures, ranging from the usual crossbow to the exotic tessen. Right now, the seats were crowded with spectators from all over the Barbaric Archipelago, carrying flags and banners bearing the house colors and sigils of their ruling families, from the black and gray of the Berserkers to the red and gold of the Outcasts. Astrid thought that the pit was old and almost decrepit, but magnificent and nostalgic just the same; she had killed her very first dragon in this same arena.
As per tradition, the Royal family was to be presented first before the suitors from each kingdom. Astrid's father, King Yngvild, stood proudly before the cheering crowd as he was called out, all blonde hair and blue eyes reminiscent of her own physical characteristics. He was joined by Astrid's mother, Queen Ingrid, who was considered a great beauty with shining brown hair and sparkling dark eyes. Crown Prince Asmund, who was almost an exact copy of their father, followed them to his place in the lineup. Astrid almost rolled her eyes as he smirked when the announcer drawled out his absurdly long list of titles. Then came Astrid's other older brother, Prince Asger, who had inherited his mother's hair and eye color. And lastly, Astrid herself came up after them, curtsying before the crowds when she was introduced.
To be a princess is to always look your best, her mother had always told her. Her family had opted to wear robes of their house colors today, nothing short of the finest gold trimmings and the loveliest azure fabrics. Fur capes adorned their frames, attached to their clothes by pins bearing the House crest. However, while everyone else in the family wore finery that would befit a royal ball, Astrid opted to wear her favorite armor of gold and steel ahead of time. After all, she would have to fight all of her suitors after the introductions were over.
Her mother had always mused that the Royal House of Hofferson was different from the rest of the Viking families. Where other Viking Royal Houses were rather boorish and almost unmanageable in both the battlefield and in meetings, their House preferred refinement in gatherings but wildness in combat. Not that the other Royal Houses didn't practice restraint or decorum, but their House takes it a step further with additional rules on etiquette and courtesy. An influence from the Southern mainland nations, her governess once explained. The women in their family, in particular, were expected to be physically capable of running across a scorched battlefield dressed in armor and blood in the morning, and show up in the Royal Hall in the evening wearing extravagant robes looking like the personification of regality and sunshine, as if no bloodshed had happened at all. They were both to be harbingers of death and deities of peace.
Shoulders back, stomach in, chest out. Instinctively, Astrid's body remembered her mother's instructions and sought to comply to every word. She lifted her chin as her gaze swept over the spectators that had occupied the fighting pit. Stiffen the upper lip, arch the back.
"Where were you earlier?" Asger whispered to her right as they waved at the crowd, all pleasant smiles and charming demeanor. "Father was looking for you."
"Taming dragons," she whispered back, almost proud at her accomplishment.
"Those gifts from Berk? Astrid, you know how our House feels about dragons!" he whined back at her, though a touch of mirth lightened up his remark. He always had been fascinated by dragons. "I'll let you go this time, but you have to show me how you did it. I've always wondered how the Berkians could train them. Did a Berkian assist you?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," she answered him, clasping her hands together in front of her after waving at the crowd. She remembered Hiccup's awkward smile, those green eyes and that straight jawline—
She stopped herself before she could venture into dangerous territory.
"I can't believe they would. I mean, we've always been in a cold war with Berk," her brother mumbled. "Honestly, it came out as a surprise that the Berkian King accepted the invitation."
"That's what I thought as well. But his companion insists that the King bears no ill will."
Asger scoffed. "Tell that to Asmund. He's convinced that the King is up to no good. The King's got a funny name too, if I may add."
"Asmund's only vexed since the King of Berk's titles have now surpassed his own," Astrid shot back. It didn't occur to her until a second later that what she said was out of her character; she had always sided with her family. And yet she could not fathom the reason as to why she was compelled to defend the King of Berk. She supposed she was giving him the benefit of the doubt out of Hiccup's allegiance to him, but the oddness in her character did not escape her brother.
"Oho!" Asger exclaimed, amusement evident in his voice. "Is this admiration I hear, Astrid? Has the great Astrid Hofferson finally fallen in love? You didn't tell me you already met the King of Berk!"
"Don't be absurd, Asger," Astrid hissed. "The only falling that will happen is the fall of my suitors. Once this whole courtship is over, I'll make sure they'll never recover from their injuries. I'll make them realize how much of a mistake it is to face me in battle. Besides, I haven't even met the King of Berk; it was his attendant who escorted me with the dragons."
She briefly wondered what Hiccup's position was. Was there a chance that he was not a retainer? Can he be of higher birth disguised as a servant? Had he been of a higher rank, would he dare court her regardless of the opposition from—
She really should stop this line of thinking. She needed to marry at least a prince for Thor's sake! Any connection with anyone of a lower rank would be detrimental to her Kingdom's position.
"That's the sister I know!" Asger beamed proudly. "I can't wait until you destroy them, Astrid!"
"Pay attention," their mother warned under her breath from the other side of the queue.
Astrid immediately fell silent. Asger, however, quipped one final line. "At least she's not as angry as when you lost her ring."
She stiffened at his remark. Another memory filled her head, one of fighting dragons, of a foolish dreamer and of a wager needing a conclusion—a conclusion which she now supposed would no longer be settled. She briefly wondered where the peasant was at the moment, if he had lived after that fight, or if he had settled with another girl from another tribe. The Dragon Wars had already ended for a couple of years, no thanks to the Dragon Master, and yet no stranger had presented himself to the Princess to collect her end of the wager.
It didn't matter now; it was for the best that no commoner sought for her hand in marriage. She reminded herself that she'd have to make an alliance with either a Prince or a King for the future of her people, and a promise of marriage to someone of lesser rank would not do.
The presenter cleared his throat and announced the rules of the Ceremony to the representatives of the Royal Houses from the Archipelago who were standing below the stage. "The rules are simple, your Majesties. The first to defeat Princess Astrid in a one-on-one battle will win her hand in marriage. In order to determine 'defeat,' one of the fighters should be knocked out, should be unable to fight any longer, or surrender. If no nobleman is able to defeat her, then King Yngvild shall decide who was the most capable warrior among you and choose one as her betrothed. Any weapon is allowed; if you so wish, you may obtain anything from the array of weapons displayed in the fighting pit. Lastly, just in case anyone tries, no killing is allowed. The Royal House of Hofferson insists that we maintain peace and cordiality in the Barbaric Archipelago."
Cheers erupted again from the spectators, and the representatives of the Royal Houses now began to move towards the stage. Astrid realized that they were about to introduce the Royal Houses now.
"Presenting King Dagur of the Royal House of Oswaldson of the Berserker Islands," the presenter announced, and the Berserkers in the crowd cheered loudly. "The Deranged, Cracker of Skulls, and Slayer of Beasts and the Champion of the Berserker Islands for this Ceremony's tournament. With him is Princess Heather of House Oswladson, the Unhinged."
A man with a golden crown on top of a mop of red hair approached them, offering a big grin that was perhaps a little bit too feral. He sported a set of three claw-like tattoos across one green eye, and a similar set was plastered across his right arm. His tunic was a mixture of leather and metal, and his chest plate bore the Oswaldson sigil of a black skrill against a grey background.
A princess must be knowledgeable about her kingdom and the other nations. Her mother's voice rang again, and Astrid remembered the motto of House Oswaldson. When in doubt, take it out.
Behind King Dagur, his green-eyed, raven-haired sister gave a smile in her direction, which Astrid eagerly gave back. Princess Heather was a fellow shieldmaiden who she had met in one of the Royal House Meetings in the past, and she was happy to see a close friend during such a special occasion.
"Welcome to Reiynor, King Dagur," Astrid's father beamed as they shook hands. "Please accept my gratitude for the set of weaponry that you gave as gifts. My children have been very happy to use them."
"Glad to be of service, King Yngvild," King Dagur returned with much enthusiasm. He turned to the rest of the family members to give the same greeting, and stopped short as he came in front of Astrid.
"Thank you very much for indulging us your time in one of the most important events of my life, King Dagur," Astrid politely said as she curtsied. Curtsy to every king and count and lord, her mother once said.
"Looking forward to the fight, eh, blondie?"
Astrid gave him her most confident smile. Oh, he was so going down. "More than you know, your Majesty."
"Does this mean we're going to be sisters-in-law?" Princess Heather piped up beside King Dagur, a teasing lilt lacing her voice.
Speak and be clever, you must never be at a loss for words. "While some dodge the famous flames of the Red Death to avoid being set on fire, I deflect your impish words to keep my armor unscathed."
Astrid could almost feel the sting of a questioning glare from her brother beside her. King Dagur and Princess Heather, on the other hand, simply laughed, hinting that they had understood what she meant.
"We'll see about that, blondie," King Dagur smirked one last time before he and Princess Heather exited the stage to make way to the next set of Royal Houses.
"Introducing King Alvin of House Traison of the Outcast Islands, the Treacherous. With him is Lord Savage of House Traison, Champion of the Outcast Islands for this Ceremony's tournament."
A massive Viking with black hair underneath a horned crown and a scar on his right cheek approached King Yngvild and shook his hand. His black beard was enormous as well, almost covering the entirety of his upper body so that his spiked shoulder pads could barely peek through the mass of hair. Metal studs and spikes decorated his arm bands and he carried an air of unpleasantness in his gait. A man of lesser stature walked beside him, sporting dark brown hair that matched with his brown eyes. Both of them sported the Traison sigil of a red viking helmet on a field of gold on their belts. They exchanged a few polite remarks with her father, and proceeded with the rest of the Royal family.
"Thank you very much for indulging us your time in this event, King Alvin and Lord Savage," Astrid murmured politely, affording them the same courtesy she gave to the Berserkers. Don't ever stray from protocol, her mother had said another time.
They merely bowed in response, the same disagreeable air going about them as they left to exit the stage. Astrid wanted to glare back at them as well, but polite etiquette dictated otherwise. She didn't trust them much, most especially when their motto was Treachery is nobility when aimed against tyranny. Rumor had it that they had slighted the late King Stoick of Berk before, but was forgiven eventually when they had befriended the Crown Prince of Berk (whose name somehow always escaped her). No matter; Lord Savage was going to go down later anyway.
"Presenting Queen Mala of House Highborn of Caldera Cay, the Unbreakable and Queen Defender of the Wing. With her is Lord Throk of House Ahlgren, Champion of Caldera Cay for this Ceremony's tournament."
Queen Mala came forth at the call of her name. She had very short blonde hair with bangs parted to the right, as well as pale green eyes that fit rather well with her black ensemble. Her robes were long with gold trimmings that also sported the House sigil of a golden eruptudon on the edges of her dark fabric. Lord Throk, who walked behind the Queen, had long red hair that was shaved in an undercut. He wore black armor with a color scheme similar to that of the Queen's, and he looked well-mannered and agreeable when they approached her father.
Astrid curtsied to them and they bowed back at her. As with the two other Houses before them, she thanked them for partaking in her Ceremony, and for the gifts that they had given her for her coming-of-age.
The introductions continued, from Crown Prince Thuggory of House Meathead to Lord Hlodvir of House Bearcub. She offered them all the same politeness she had given to the rest of the Royal families. All through the day there's just one way you must behave, her mother had contemplated once. Of course, she afforded more than just cordiality to her closer comrades, and she could not help herself as she hugged Camicazi of House Bog-Burglars, her cousin and a fellow shieldmaiden.
"Go give them Helheim, Astrid!" Camicazi encouragingly laughed as she sauntered away after the formalities, and Astrid returned her enthusiasm with a big smile of her own.
Twenty-seven.
She had counted twenty-seven suitors so far, from noblemen of her own Kingdom to the Lords and Princes and Kings from all over the Barbaric Archipelago. She supposed it would not be much; she had faced almost a hundred warriors in an afternoon before (though that was more of a sparring session than a serious fight) and she had battled with dragons for three days straight when she was younger (though she did end up bedridden for a good part of the subsequent month afterwards). Only one suitor remained unintroduced, and this was the one that she was fascinated about the most.
"Introducing Queen Dowager Valka of House Haddock, the First Dragon Rider and Mother of Dragons."
A tall, crowned woman with a willowy frame similar to her mother's approached the King and bowed before him. She had auburn tresses arranged in three separate braids behind her back, and her green eyes, though genial and bright, was of a shade that was rather familiar to Astrid. She wore a red long sleeved tunic underneath a chest plate bearing the sigil of a dragon, and a fur collar completed her look. Although she stood and walked as regally as any Queen should, there was an atmosphere of something amiable about her, something nurturing and doting and motherly.
"My apologies for the tardiness of my son, your Majesty. I'm afraid he's had an errand to run for his friends who have been stranded for a short while in your mountains. But he shall be back soon," she explained apologetically.
Astrid stifled a sigh that almost escaped, hiding her slight disappointment. She was rather curious about the King of Berk. It had fascinated her that even though they were more or less of the same age, they were never given an opportunity to meet formally.
"That is understandable, your Majesty," King Yngvild replied just as cordially. "But may I ask, what business does the King's friends have in our mountains?"
Before Queen Dowager Valka could answer, a dragon's cry was heard from above, and Astrid raised her head towards the source of the sound. She could make out five dragons in the skies, encircling them: a gronckle, a hideous zippleback, a monstrous nightmare, a rumblehorn, as well as a—
"—Night fury!"
A jet-black dragon swiftly swooped towards the grounds of the fighting pit with the grace and agility of a predator, bearing with him who could only be the King of Berk. The four other dragons landed on either side of the night fury, only less as graceful. Talk about a fashionably late entrance.
A tall and lean masked man with a strong frame descended from the night fury. He wore a layer of fine leather underneath a cover of black armor plating spread over his shoulders and upper chest. House Haddock's sigil of a red dragon on a black field was decorated on one of the many clasps that adorned his armor. He made his way towards the stage after a fond petting of his dragon, and Astrid couldn't help but notice his rather unconventional gait brought about by that—shit.
It was a metal foot prosthesis.
Astrid froze. What were the odds that the King had only one foot as well? But the thought that the commoner earlier would also be the King was impossible. There was no way that—
"Wait 'til you hear his name," Asmund teased beside Asger who was so close to laughing.
"Presenting King Hiccup Horrendous of House Haddock, Third of his name, Lord Protector and King of the Berkian Isles, the Pride of Berk, the Dragon Conqueror, the Master of Dragons, Envoy to the Continental Mainland, Patron of the Seasons, Confidante of the Crownlands and Kith to the Alliance of the Moon Kingdoms… and the Champion of the Kingdom of Berk for today's Ceremony."
Astrid's jaw dropped. She could feel her heart cease momentarily as her head processed the information.
"What kind of a name is 'Hiccup'?!" Asger and Asmund silently snickered beside her. Astrid wanted to share their gaiety, she really did, but she could not tear her eyes away when Hiccup—nay, King Hiccup—tore away his mask to confirm her fears.
Hiccup was the King of Berk?
"It is a great honor to meet you, King Yngvild," he murmured as he bowed to her father. Astrid stood frozen on the spot, unable to convince herself that this was indeed a dream. What would her mother's lessons tell her in a situation like this?
A princess must always look her best. A princess must always maintain a regal gait. Stomach in, chest out—no, no, no! These words proved to be of no assistance to her plight—shoulders back, stiffen the upper lip, arch the back. Speak and be clever, you must never be at a loss for words—nothing was helping at all!
"The honor is all mine, King Hiccup. It's great to finally meet such an esteemed albeit elusive person such as yourself," her father replied with much eagerness. "I've heard a great deal of your achievements and adventures, and I admire much of your accomplishments. I regret not having met you when you were younger."
A few more pleasantries were exchanged, and Astrid wished, for the first time in her life, that she would disappear entirely into nothingness in this very moment—or at least until the King would be gone and she could breathe again. Confusion and panic and a tiny touch of something akin to elation swam in her head, making her feel dizzy. She didn't know what to say, and she desperately wished that this vision of him would go away, that he would dissolve like a dream.
But alas, the King stayed as real as existence itself and, together with the Queen Dowager, proceeded to introduce themselves to the rest of the Royal family. Astrid steeled herself to look at something, anything else in hopes of easing her panic.
A princess must never be confused. Do keep a grip and don't ever crack. Never show dismay, never show a thing you feel inside. Do keep agrip and don't evercrack. Nevershowdismaynevershowathingyoufeel—
"Princess Astrid."
Shit.
She swore that a vision from Valhalla had presented itself to her as she lifted her chin to look at him. He was more handsome than she'd last remembered. His auburn mane was a tad more unkempt from his ride earlier and yet it still looked oddly endearing, framing his defined face that was littered with freckles. His emerald gaze was intense yet gentle, so mesmerizing and deep it reminded her of the color of a thick forest. And his jawline was so sharp and straight that it might as well have sliced through the heavens. Yes, that's what she'll call it, the Heaven Slicer.
He offered her a smile, unsure but honest, unassuming but so undeniably beguiling it almost melted her heart. Almost.
A wave of shock presented itself anew, paralyzing her for a moment and overwhelming her so much that her mother's lessons had flown out of her head. It took her several moments to realize that she had yet to answer him back.
"King Hiccup," she finally managed to croak out after a few moments of silence.
The shock was replaced then, just as fast as how it had overwhelmed her—
—Thank you, O great King of Berk and Master of Dragons, for having slain the Red Death, made up your books and introduced the dragon way of living—but it's already years too late!
You ought to respect him more. Tell me your name, commoner, and I shall see to it that the King of Berk knows of your thoughts.
I think it would be best if I marry the King of Berk.
And a union with the King of Berk, the Dragon Master, is the most beneficial alternative right now.
Fuck—
—One moment she was immobilized with shock and in the next instant, a thousand emotions had taken over, creeping up her psyche at an alarming speed she was sure she would blow up any second now. A ripple of panic, a splash of disbelief, and a huge wave of shame and mortification coupled with an overpowering tide of misplaced anger and utter devastation stirred so vehemently in her chest it was sending her senses into overdrive—
And then she did the unimaginable.
She did something so out of her character as a princess, so out of this world, so stupid, that she knew her mother, her governess and her etiquette teacher would conspire to tie her to a rock, send her off a carrier ship and plunge her into the depths of the Meridian of Misery to suffer continuously until the end of time. She knew that her reputation would eternally be ruined and that she will never recover from this until her death, but she could not help herself; she did the one thing that a warrior like her would do in this maddening position.
She punched him. Hard.
Twice.
Fuck those eyes, fuck that smile and fuck the Heaven Slicer—her fists had automatically connected themselves to his chest without her express consent, a reflex triggered so suddenly she was unable to control it. The blow sent him a few steps back, and she internally commended his body for having stood against her hits. She could not bring herself to be remorseful about it, though, not even with the horrified gasps that drew forth due to her act of violence.
But the jabs were not enough to assuage her anger.
She grabbed his armor and with a strength she so rarely showed, flipped him unto his back.
"What was that for?!" he exclaimed in protest, green eyes going round with surprise.
"That's for the lies!" she seethed as she held him down. "And this—" she straddled him in one swift motion, and her fingers slid from his body to encompass his throat, strangling him "—this is for everything else."
Her mind could barely register the crowd roaring to life at the scene; she could distantly hear her mother's frantic chastisement and her brothers' encouraging cheers. There were several other noises, too, but her brain had muted her surroundings as she focused on the object of her torment: the King of Berk who was now struggling beneath her.
A pair of strong arms suddenly grabbed her shoulders and forcefully pried her away from King Hiccup's frame.
"Let me go, Asmund!" she cried and thrashed around as she realized that it was her brother who had held her back. "Let me at him! I'm going to kill that son of a half-troll, rat-eating munge bucket!"
"As much as I thoroughly enjoy your tantrums and your treatment of the King, Mother insists that I drag you as far away as possible before you bring further discredit to our family," her brother explained breathlessly, trying to haul her from the scene. Just as she was being dragged away by Asmund, her parents and the Queen Dowager had instantly encircled the King, checking on his injuries.
Astrid ignored him; anger and humiliation had now consumed her entire being and logic no longer made sense to her. All that matters now was that King Hiccup should get a piece of her mind.
She managed to twist her body away from her brother's grasp, and she quickly sprinted towards one end of the stage to grab her most trusted axe, intent on unleashing hell. She pushed her brothers away without much thought as she stalked towards her prey, and she deftly ignored her parents' protests at her recklessness. Her eyes zeroed in on her target, who was now surrounded by a small crowd.
The other dragon riders had come to the King's defense, who was still sitting on the ground, soothing the red marks on his neck. Together with the Queen Dowager, four men—a large and a thin blonde, a dark-haired and stocky lad and a tall muscular guy—and a blonde woman now formed a circle surrounding the King.
"Everybody scram," she warned, voice dripping with murderous intensity.
"Now, Princess, this is the King of Berk you are threatening," the muscular man warned coldly, stepping forward to shield his monarch. "And you'll have to go through us to get to him."
"I don't know what my cousin did to earn your wrath, and I know that he probably deserves what you did to him," the short, dark-haired guy added, confidently stepping forward as well, "but babe, you should totally—"
Astrid sent him flying behind her even before he could finish his sentence. She grabbed hold of the other man as well, and kicked him squarely in the stomach with a force so strong she knew he won't easily recover from it. She punched him for good measure, and sent him falling to the ground with a strong jab from the wrong end of her axe.
"I said," she breathed again, voice so sharp everyone could feel the edge against their throats, "scram."
All who were there, including the spectators in the fighting pit, held their breaths at the development. Before anyone can react, however, a beautiful jet-black dragon appeared out of nowhere, placing itself in between King Hiccup's company and Astrid. The dragon assumed an aggressive stance, limbs on high alert and razor teeth on display. Its magnificent green eyes turned to slits and it glared at her, threatening and ready to attack if necessary.
Astrid stood her ground and glared back, refusing to submit to the dragon's threat.
"Whoa, whoa, Toothless!" King Hiccup immediately stood up despite his discomfort and pushed through the crowd, positioning himself between the dragon and Astrid, trying to push the dragon away from her. Asmund and Asger instantly snapped to it as well, flanking either side of Astrid, all the while holding her back to try and prevent her from doing anything drastic. They tried to drag her frame away from the dragon, but she remained stubborn and unyielding.
"That's a night fury, you muttonhead!" Asger berated, trying to grab her restless arms.
"Fuck it, I don't care."
"What's he done to you to incur your wrath?"
"It's a misunderstanding," King Hiccup said, facing them while still trying to calm the dragon down, though the dragon was just as unmovable as Astrid. "Look, I should have told you earlier—"
"—You bet you should have," Astrid raged. "You lied to me!"
"I didn't lie, you assumed," he retorted calmly.
"And you let me continue on believing the wrong assumption! You should have told me about your position rather than let me believe you were a servant!"
"Oh, because my poor clothing would totally convince you that I was a King," he replied sarcastically.
"You still should have tried!"
"I tried to hint at it, but it wouldn't go through your head."
"And you have the audacity insult my intellect?" Astrid fumed and she raised her axe at an attempt to attack him. "I will castrate you!"
King Hiccup looked unfazed. "I've no qualms about it as long as you use your teeth."
"Why you son of a—"
"ASTRID MARIE HOFFERSON."
It was as if a bucket of ice had been thrown over her head, and a chill ran up her spine as she froze. King Yngvild of House Reiynor was not easily angered, but when he was angry, he was livid.
Damn, he had used her middle name.
The entire fighting pit had gone eerily quiet at the King's voice, waiting in palpable tension at what would happen next. Even the night fury had decompressed in its stance. Astrid slowly lowered her weapon as her brothers let her go, and she reluctantly turned around to face her father.
She felt like she had just been punched in the gut as her fury steadily subsided, and she became painfully aware of what she had done: she had punched the King of Berk, attempted to strangle him, and endeavored to murder and castrate him without much thought or warning, and without the provision of either a reasonable explanation or a chance of a trial… in front of the Royal family, in front of the Royal Houses of the Barbaric Archipelago, in front of the entire Kingdom of Reiynor, and essentially, in front of the entirety of the Wilderwest… on her own Courting Ceremony.
She could feel the sting of being the center of attention; the disbelieving stares and the judgmental glares of everyone around her were enough to wash away the chaos in her being, stripping her of her anger and devastation and replacing them with humiliation and embarrassment. But none of them hurt as much as the icy glower from her father which bore something worse than shame and judgment. It was disappointment.
So much for being nothing less than perfection.
And yet she could not find it in herself to be remorseful about what she did. If given the chance, she would still have done it again, blast princess lessons and fancy house mottos.
"Princess Astrid has had a lapse in judgment and will retreat to one of the rooms in the fighting pit," her father announced as he stared her down. "She will remain there until the first fight starts."
Astrid lifted her chin despite the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes at the displeasure and condemnation in her father's voice, refusing to let the situation show any signs of weakness. She turned on her heel as soon as she had heard the dismissal, not bothering to give a curtsy to anyone. Glaring at everyone who was in her way, she gave one last glower at the King of Berk before she descended the stage. She was slightly taken aback at his look of concern—at—no, for—her. She pretended not to notice it.
She ignored anyone who dared approach her, hurriedly making her way into one of the deserted rooms underneath the stage. She threw her axe as soon as she arrived in an empty room, and the weapon embedded itself into the wall with a loud thud. Taking the axe after the throw, she hacked into the panel a few more times and screamed, unleashing her wrath.
How could he? How could he deceive her so?! Was it his intention to mislead her and pick apart the fragility of her nature? Did he enjoy quiet judgment at her situation, at her frailty, at her insecurities? Did he think of her now as an undesirable opportunist who married only for political advantage? A violent savage under the guise of a warrior princess? Surely his schadenfreude was unforgivable!
She was so angry at him, no doubt, but she was angry at herself as well. How could she allow herself to open up to him so, to share her most vulnerable thoughts?
"What was that all about?" her Mother demanded, bursting into the room after a few minutes. "I ought to tie you to a rock and have you plunged into the depths of the Meridian of Misery!"
"Yeah, I figured that out," Astrid replied, ignoring her and still lashing out on the poor wall. "I don't want to explain myself."
"Have you lost your mind?" her mother prodded again as she grabbed her arm so that they can see each other face to face. "Might I remind you that it was the King of Berk that you have offended?"
"I care not who he is!"
"A princess should never say such thoughtless things!"
"I'm really not in the mood for princess lessons now, Mother," Astrid said angrily, attempting to destroy the wall again.
"Astrid," her mother seethed threateningly with an authority only a Queen could exude. Astrid finally dropped her weapon in indignation to face her. "Do you know how grave it was attacking the King of Berk? You do know that he is currently the most powerful monarch in the entire Barbaric Archipelago."
"I know," Astrid replied rather resentfully.
"And do you know why he is the most powerful?"
Astrid took a deep breath to remember all the things that she knew about him. "He is the Dragon Master. He was one of the first to tame and ride a dragon, and he has extensive knowledge of almost every dragon species. In addition to that, not only is his dragon a night fury, one of the rarest and most powerful species of dragons, but it is the 'Alpha Dragon.' He was able to spread his knowledge of dragon taming in the Kingdom of Berk, which has made the Kingdom more powerful in terms of military strength. After defeating the Red Death that effectively ended the Dragon Wars, the other kingdoms in the Barbaric Archipelago sought to have his knowledge and skill in taming dragons; this have led to numerous peace treaties and alliances between these kingdoms and the Kingdom of Berk."
"Exactly," her mother validated. "He has formed an alliance with almost all of the kingdoms in the Archipelago, from Caldera Cay to the Meathead Islands. He has even befriended the Berserkers and the Outcasts, Astrid, and they were the most volatile Vikings in the entire Archipelago!"
Astrid bit her lip, mulling at the extent of the alliances. Offending him meant offending almost everyone in the Wilderwest.
"Apart from that, he has also allied himself with not one, but three great kingdoms from the Mainlands, Astrid. The Mainlands." Her mother could not emphasize the thought enough. "The kingdoms of Lunaris, Corona and DunBroch have signed a pact with the kingdom of Berk, promising each other trade and protection. And it does not help that the Kingdom of Lunaris is the capital of the Alliance of the Moon Kingdoms, so the treaty extends all the way from the Warren to the Island of the Sleepy Sands. Not to mention his trading agreements with the Eastern Continent; he has visited the Empire of Fransokyo twice, and has expressed his intent to visit the Island of Motunui soon."
Astrid's eyes slightly widened in equal parts disbelief and—she hated to admit it—admiration. The last part was new information for her. Had the King of Berk really amassed such power in a little bit over ten years? He used to be called the Useless when he was younger, she remembered now, which was rumored to be reason why King Stock never brought him along during meetings. And yet now… he was the most powerful king in the Wilderwest.
She lowered her lashes to the ground, then, silently brooding on the information. It seemed that she had grossly underestimated the King of Berk, and she did not anticipate just how grave her outrage was. Not that she had already regretted what she did; she just wished that he was not someone so powerful and influential.
"If the Kingdom of Berk cries offense at what you have done, then at least half of the Continent might have declared war against us as well, from the Mainlands to the Wilderwest… But should you marry the King of Berk, then you would have half of the Continent supporting our Kingdom."
"Don't be absurd, Mother," she breathed. "The King of Berk will no longer want to marry me, not after what I've done."
"He has not withdrawn his intention to court you."
Astrid's head snapped up so suddenly she thought her neck would break. "What?"
"He intends to fight you in the arena later in hopes of winning your hand in marriage," her mother expounded. "I don't know what you did to him, but he seems to be besotted with you."
Astrid gaped at her. That didn't make any sense; why would the King be enamored with her? Surely half a day spent in the stables was not enough to form so strong an affection.
She sought to recover from her surprise. "I still refuse to surrender for the sake of an alliance. Mother, you should know that I will fight wholeheartedly against my suitors, regardless of how eligible the match or how valuable the prospect. I will not give a half-assed performance just so that I can marry the King of Berk."
"I'm not asking you to marry the King of Berk, although I would have to admit that that would be the best for our kingdom's position," her mother answered. "But I am asking you not to get in his Majesty's bad graces. Even if you cannot create an ally, then at least don't make an enemy. At least be civil with him. For our House."
Astrid looked unconvinced.
"If not for our House, then at least for our people. For the Kingdom of Reiynor."
Now that got Astrid's consideration. If there was one thing that she would be so willing to sacrifice everything for, then that would be her people.
"Our Kingdom lies on the southeasternmost tip of the Barbaric Archipelago," her mother pressed on, catching the deliberation in her daughter's features. "Though the threat in the North is far from us, there are still risks from the Shadowlands and the Eastern Isles. Should these nations decide to attack the Barbaric Archipelago, we get to be attacked first from a geographical standpoint. Our threats are enough as it is, Astrid. We cannot risk another prospect of war, most especially not from the Kingdom of Berk."
Astrid swallowed. "I understand," she finally murmured through gritted teeth. "I shall try to be as civil as possible with the Berkian King. But don't expect me to apologize, Mother. And don't expect me not to break bones later when I face him. I will only promise formality, not the inevitability of injury nor the possibility of an apology."
"In all honesty, I'm not expecting you to," her mother muttered. "Although I do wish that you were less stubborn and more diplomatic about this."
Before Astrid could reply, the door to the room burst open and Asger came in. "You're up, Astrid. The first fight's going to start now."
Astrid exhaled slowly, mentally preparing herself at what was to come. She secured her axe and removed her fur cape, and gave her mother a short embrace, then proceeded to follow her brother to the grounds of the fighting pit.
Whispers and murmurs erupted as soon she appeared in the arena. She could remember the disbelieving stares and the judgmental glares of everyone earlier, brought about by her violence. Shame swelled in her chest again, but she willed herself to lift her chin and enter the arena with as much grace and dignity that she could afford. She would not let such misfortune break her; she was so much stronger than that.
She saw that Lord Throk of Caldera Cay was her first opponent for the afternoon, but she searched for someone else as she proceeded to face him. Her eyes roamed the side of the arena where the Royal Houses stayed, and her sight finally landed on a mane of auburn hair amidst the crowd.
She locked eyes with him, then—blue with green, sapphire with emerald, intensity with apprehensiveness.
The afternoon sun hit her skin like a blessing from the gods, and she committed to memory this fleeting moment—the rays of sunshine on her Kingdom, the excitement of the crowd at the commencement of the fight, the kiss of a breeze against her cheek, her death glare directed at the King of Berk, his startled expression at the harshness of her stare—and with a prayer to Odin, Freya and Tyr, she thus promised.
Astrid vowed that she will never let the King of Berk win against her. Not in this life, nor in the next.
END OF ACT TWO
-If you're like me who skips the notes at the end, you may proceed to the last bit of this page for the omake (extra scene)-
For everyone else, brace yourselves for really looong Notes:
[1] I initially intended to have the fight between Astrid and Hiccup in this chapter, but as you can see, I got too carried away with the interaction and I have exceeded my quota for pages for one chapter, so I'll just reserve it for the next one. Considering this development, I may add another chapter, perhaps, but I'll try to see if I can cram it in the last chapter because I have already laid out the flashback/chapter intro into three and I don't want to change that. The chapter was supposed to be about short introductions, a short fight and a short scolding in preparation for the main tournament but. Look. At. What. Happened.
(I blame my susceptibility to add and add adjectives, and for that, I'm sorry.)
[2] I have not watched any other HTTYD franchise other than the movies (yes, I've been living under a rock—loads of textbooks and papers, thank you), so if I don't get their characterization right from the TV series/books, my apologies. Though I admit that I have researched (read) the different characters from the TV series and plotlines of these characters, so my characterization of them is an interpretation of what I've read and what YouTube can provide me with their clips. Also, I'm not really a sarcastic or a sassy person, so I will admit that I did have difficulties in writing Hiccup's character. I'm pretty sure you've noticed that. Sorry.
[3] If you haven't watched GOT, no worries. As I've said in the previous chapter, there's really not much GOT-plotwise, but I am borrowing the sigils and house mottos (and long-arse titles) that were originally from GOT. You may not expect nudity, deaths, and (a lot of) violence. X)
[4] Royal House sigils and mottos review!
House Haddock of Berk: red dragon on a black field (think Hiccup's crest in HTTYD 2, which I think fits so snugly with the Targaryen sigil) | "A King protects his own" (based on Stoick's quote of 'A Chief protects his own' from HTTYD 2)
House Valheim (Valka's House—totally made the House name up) of Berk: white dragon on a black field | "Be the soul of the dragon" ('[You have] A heart of a Chief and the soul of a dragon' would really be a good motto for Hiccup, but I can't see House Haddock having this motto)
House Hofferson of Reiynor: golden valkyrie with an axe on a blue field | "Nothing less than perfection" (because I've read in a lot of fics how Astrid can be a perfectionist at times)
House Oswaldson (I am totally making up House names from this point onward because research can't seem to show character family names T_T) of the Berserker Islands: black skrill on a grey field (Berserker crest per reasearch) | "When in doubt, take it out" (Dagur quote, per research)
House Traison of the Isles of the Outcasts: red viking helmet on a field of gold | "Treachery is nobility when aimed against tyranny" (can't seem to find a good enough Alvin quote to justify his treachery, so let's go with an internet quote instead)
House Highborn of Caldera Cay: red eruptudon on a white field | "May Dragons bless the Queen" (because dragon worship)
Bonus houses!
House Der Soone of Corona: sun on a violet field | "See the light"
House DunBroch of DunBroch: green sword with interwoven rings on a black field | "Change the fate torn by pride"
House Arun of Arendelle: white crocus on a blue background | "Beware the frozen heart"
House Overland of Lunaris: white snowflake in a crescent moon on a blue field | "Believe in the moon"
(side note: This story was meant to be a side story to a Jelsa GOT!AU fic that I came up with way back 2013/2014, which is why I haven't developed most of the house sigils and mottos for HTTYD characters. Sorry. I may continue such concept, but I would most likely wait until 2019 to decide since I'd like to get as much material as possible for a GOT!AU fic. In 2019, HTTYD 3, Frozen 2 and GOT Season 8 will all be showing in this year, so.)
[5] The line used by Astrid against Dagur and Heather is an alteration of a poem made by Lady-in-Waiting Yushi Naishin-no-ke no Kii (11th century Japan): "While some dodge the famous waves of Takashi shore to avoid getting wet, I deflect your artful words to keep my sleeves dry". This means: While some dodge the [much-talked rumors of you] to [not let one's sleeves be wet by tears], I deflect your [playboy-ness] to keep my sleeves dry [i.e. not give my heart to you].
Similarly, Astrid's line: "While some dodge the famous flames of the Red Death to avoid being set on fire, I deflect your impish words to keep my armor unscathed" means: While some dodge the [deranged infamy] to [not let my armor be burned], I deflect your [craziness] to keep my armor unscathed [i.e. not yield to you]. So to answer Heather's question, it's a no.
[6] Astrid's princess lessons were taken from (Barbie's) the Princess and the Pauper and (Brave's) princess lessons from Queen Elinor.
Responses to Reviews:
Kiacico: Thank you very much for your kind words! And for the review as well!
GabrielBR12: Thank you very much for your review!
BrawlerGamer: Thank you for enjoying the story. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well, though not much has happened. X) A full-fledged story sounds good, but unfortunately, I don't think I'd be doing it any time soon, as stated in the side note in note [4] above. But you never know. X) Thank you so much for leaving a review as well!
CajunBear73: I hope the chapter has answered your musing. :) Thank you very much for your review! I must say that your summary-type of review really interests me. Hope to hear from you soon. :)
freyja0taku: Thank you very much for the enthusiasm! And I commend you for your perceptiveness. I deliberately mentioned the ring as few times as possible in hopes that people would ignore/forget it, but you managed to catch on. X) I hope that you enjoyed the official meeting of Astrid and Hiccup in this chapter. Thank you again!
GostRider: A good suggestion, one that I have considered. But unfortunately, due to my workload right now, I don't think I can manage, and for that, I'm sorry. X( But then again, you never know. X) Thank you very much for leaving a review! :)
leader of shadowz: Thank you for the review, kind Sir!
Lumen del Mari: OMG, I cannot. *_* Thank you so much for giving me such giddy, fluffy feelings with your review, it is so much appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well, though it's really a filler chapter for the most part. . Thank you very much again for such kind words, I feel so blessed. :)
Anonymous Noob the 2nd: Thank you for the review. I hope you enjoyed this one as well!
Spyridon: OMG. I am flattered that you would take your time and leave a review for this story. Thank you very much for the review, it is much appreciated! I hope that it has not disappointed you that Astrid isn't the only child of the King, though. X( I have initially planned to include an explanation of how the Houses maintain political ties in marriages and alliances in the next chapter, but I'm having second thoughts on whether or not I should include it now because of the development stated in note [1]. Nevertheless, I'll take it into consideration when I write the next chapter. Also, you're not really missing out much if you don't watch GOT. As stated in Note [3], I haven't borrowed much, just a few items. And as for the Big 4, apologies for not having explained this; it's a cross-over fandom of Brave, Tangled, Rise of the Guardians and HTTYD. Again, thank you very much for your review and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! :)
DeathBerryHime: I have waited to write their meeting as well, and I may have been carried away with their interaction. X( Also, it's not exactly that it's my first time writing, it's that it's my first time publishing my story, and this is the first time I've written again after three years. T_T I've written stuff since I was younger, but I usually lose interest in the long run (which is why I limit my chapters, usually) and my writing streak can jump months or years. I do really enjoy it though, but I'm very apprehensive about posting online—I had an internal debate for three days on whether or not I should post on FanFic. But here we are. :) Thank you also very much for your thoughts and review. It has made me very happy!
icy-rain499: Thank you very much for the review! I hope this chapter has lived up to your expectation!
MistyHart44: Wow, thank you so much for your review, I am extremely flattered! I have to admit, though, that I am envious of people who can easily produce fluff, mainly because I have a hard time arranging the thoughts in my head and I have to find just the right words for every important scene, so I easily get carried away with adjectives and adverbs. X( I know that this chapter was less thought out than the previous one, and I apologize for that. But thank you so much for your words, it has really made me happy! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. :)
For all the Guest reviews: I wish I had names to place for you all so that I can thank you properly; nevertheless, please accept my heartfelt gratitude for all of your kind words. Again, thank you!
And before you go, please enjoy one last extra scene for this chapter, one paying homage (but also a sort of parody) to the absurdly long titles of Daenerys and Cersei, as well as Hiccup's—because have you seen this character's Wikia page? He's going to give Daenerys and Cersei a run for their money with his list of titles. X)
Lastly, if I may be so bold to ask, and if you may be so kind to consider—I would very much appreciate it if you leave a review for this story. Or a fave or follow, whichever floats your boat. X) Thank you very much!
OMAKE
"I can't believe they did such an atrocious thing!" Tuffnut exclaimed as he, Ruffnut and Fishlegs took their seats in the Berkian side of the fighting pit.
"Yeah, she almost totaled Hiccup and injured both Snotlout and Eret," Fishlegs nodded in agreement, still not over the fact that Princess Astrid had attacked Hiccup and had sent both Snotlout and Eret to the infirmary. Not that he expected anything less from the most known shieldmaiden in the Barbaric Archipelago.
"Yeah, I was worried for a moment there," Ruffnut added, but she looked confused. "But what are you talking about, Fishlegs?"
Fishlegs looked at them, now sporting the same confused look. "We are talking about how Princess Astrid attacked Hiccup, right?"
"Of course not!" Ruffnut exclaimed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We're talking about something more important. The missing titles of Hiccup!"
"Yeah, they left out the most interesting ones," Tuffnut supplied.
Now Fishlegs looked even more confused. He took out a document from his pocket, the marriage contract draft that Hiccup had prepared in case he won. He then checked the titles written under Hiccup's name. "Uh—I think that was the complete list, guys. His official titles are written here." He waved the draft in front of them.
"Give me that," Tuffnut breathed as he snatched it from Fishleg's hand. He gave a once-over and took out a pencil from his pocket. He promptly began scribbling on the draft then. "See, they totally forgot to add this title—"
"—and this," Ruffnut chimed in, snatching the pencil away from Tuffnut.
"Oh, don't forget to add this as well."
"And don't forget that one title…"
Both of them scribbled some more on the draft, and after a few minutes, the twins looked at each other and gave each other a high five. They faced Fishlegs to return the document, all merry smiles and pleased demeanor. Fishlegs took the document to read Hiccup's complete list of titles.
.
.
.
King Hiccup Horrendous of House Haddock, Third of his name, Lord Protector and King of the Berkian Isles, the Pride of Berk, the Dragon Conqueror, the Master of Dragons, Envoy to the Continental Mainland, Patron of the Seasons, Confidante of the Crownlands and Kith to the Alliance of the Moon Kingdoms, Brother to Dagur, the Boss Man, the Capital H, Sir Talks-A-Lot, the Princess of Outpost and Tyrant and Everyone's Baby Daddy of the Isle of the Dragon's Edge.