Chapter 2: Closer
"I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow. I see how peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another."
- Erich Maria Remarque, All Quiet on the Western Front
"When was your last confession, my son?" Father Jacques had just opened his doors to the church when he saw a young man in British uniform walking in towards the confessional booth.
"Uh, actually I'm kind of new around here." Hiccup has never gone to confession before and since he was technically pagan, he thought that French Catholics might not take nicely to followers of the Norse paganism in the cathedral. "I've never done anything like this, and I've heard it's good for people to talk to you after... difficult times."
"All children of the Lord are welcome here, my son. Tell me, what troubles you? Is it the war?"
The Father knew it was most likely the war. Never before had he seen so much destruction in so short of time. Truly, it must be Satan's doing.
"Yeah, actually. I've been fighting for a few years now, and..." he struggles to find words, "there are things that I've seen. Things that I can't think about, or I just start to lose my sense of reality. I've been pounded by shells, drenched in rain and blood, and killed more men than I care to count. It used to be difficult to do, to take the lives and withstand everything, but now it's not. And I miss it." Hiccup had to take a breath to contemplate his next words. As of right now, he was afraid of sounding like a sociopath.
"You...miss it?" The priest was confused. Normally, he had men that longed for home, a home away from the trenches and the war, but this British soldier just admitted to missing it?
"I can't explain it. I don't like it anymore than the man next to me, but when it's not there, it feels like something is missing. Something important. I can't think straight or function without it, like there's a hole. There's something missing."
"Son, you're telling me you've grown so used to war, you cannot live in peace."
"Yeah, I know how it sounds, that's why I didn't seek out anyone from the army." The last thing Hiccup needed was to be sent to an asylum, that DEFINITELY would not please his father.
"War is the greatest drug known to man, son. It corrupts the heart of men and poisons the mind. It can ruin thousands of lives, even those that are not lost in battle."
"I know, and I don't want to… depend on the war. I don't know what to do, no matter what I'm doing all I can think about is how any one of these things in Paris can kill me, how I can avoid, where to take cover in case of shelling, and at night I can't sleep in my bed or without gunshots" Hiccup was starting to feel a little overwhelmed now, he had never told any of this to anyone else and he felt like he was losing control.
"You need to keep a grip on reality. Find an anchor to remind you there is a world outside of the war, one that is peaceful, filled with the company of people you love and your family. Is there any way you can send letters to your family or friends?"
"I don't know where my mother is, my father doesn't exactly love me or approve of my situation, apparently, and I never had any friends as a kid." Hiccup decided to be as blunt as possible with this one. Looks like he wasn't getting any help with this after all. Actually…
"Well, if there is no one else to-" the priest never got a chance to finish before Hiccup interrupted him.
"Actually, there is one person that might be able to be my, ummmm… anchor"
"And who might that be, my son?"
"A girl. She is here in Paris for something, I think she's a volunteer nurse for the Red Cross, but yeah, she's here in Paris for a little while."
"Talk to her. Try to be friends with her, and remember that there is a world outside of the war, one that is much better and more fun, I assure you."
"Thank you, Father Jacques", and with that, Hiccup left the confessional booth, walking out towards the doors of the cathedral. Once he was out on the street, he contemplated his options: He could talk to Astrid, possibly try to be her friend, or ignore this advice and then go about business as normal. One could possibly ruin his life and the other, well, it would just make him uncomfortable for the duration of his stay in Paris.
What the hell, he still had about 3 1/2 weeks left in Paris, and Astrid could possibly be his friend if he mustered up the courage to not stutter around her and possibly share some of the war stories.
As it was only morning on a Sunday in early June, prime tourist season for Paris when there wasn't any wars going on, Hiccup decided to give himself somewhat of a break and just walk around Paris, seeing the sights. After all, he needed to remind himself of the world beyond the war, and maybe the best place to do that was in the Louvre, with some nice paintings that only people on drugs or the painters would be able to pull any meaning and significance from. He could take a detour along the Seine river, and see Notre Dame first, maybe a few other things, too. This might only delay him about and hour and half, he still had time.
Hiccup was always more of a naturalist and realist kind of guy, anyway.
—
Outside at a street table of a cafe, a warm breeze in the air, Astrid still didn't know what got into her that day. Or what got into Hiccup, as a matter of fact. All she did was ask him about combat, and he kind of shut off on her. Something wasn't right.
After that incident 2 days ago, Astrid had decided to avoid Hiccup and that particular area of Paris, especially since she didn't want to do anything damaging to him and possibly hurt her chances of him taking her to the frontlines. She had made up her mind that, even though this war wasn't the prettiest, although in her opinion no war was pretty, she would still go and make her family proud. She would kill some Germans, and maybe if she got lucky, some of those Ottomans or Austria-Hungarians. Any war that she could fight in was fine by her.
Even so, she still wanted an account of the situation at the front lines, and took to reading the newspapers in Paris. The majority of them were in French, a few in English, but luckily Astrid had enough experience with French to get by, and moreover the pictures were really all she needed, as well as any little snippets those motion theaters played. And honestly…
She was nervous now, about seeing combat. Just a little bit. Barely any.
Thats what she told herself.
From the newspapers, the war was larger than she'd ever imagined. Having come from a small, secluded town in the highlands of Scotland, she was not exactly uninformed of the nature of the war, she knew it was a global war, but she did not know the apocalyptic nature of it.
Gas weapons, invisible killers that no one could see or the yellow clouds drifting towards your trenches. Machine guns, a special type of weapon that could do the work of dozens of riflemen with just two men needed to operate it. Zeppelins, high altitude deathships. Flammenwerfers, these horrible devices out of mythology and dragon lore that spit fire onto the user's enemies. And the amount of artillery, she heard when in the outskirts of France made it sound like the earth was preparing for the arrival of the Four Horseman.
This was all before she saw the casualty lists. At someplace called Verdun, where it was stated that the French won the battle, but said there were nearly half a million casualties. Of those, the newspaper stated over 100,000 men were killed for the French alone.
How could losing this many men be a victory? In Astrid's mind, winning meant defeating the enemy at the cost of less than his number killed, so you had more than him, not losing nearly the same amount of men as he did. Yet, the number killed in the battles listed in the papers, present and past, showed that thousands of men died in these large scale operations, and this was just of Europe. There were mentions of casualties from Asia, a land she had never read much about, and Africa, a continent she assumed desolate and separate from the fighting in Europe. There were reports of troops in the Middle East, where the British were holding the Suez Canal, and mentions of the Russian Allies in the East holding out against the Turks and Austrian-Hungarian army, as well as the Italians fighting in the mountains.
All of this, she noted, for the life of one man. How ironic, she thought, that because of the death of one, millions of others must die to. Was life so precious that it required a sacrifice of other lives to heighten its importance?
All of the extra details had slipped past Astrid, and now, regardless of what she repeated over and over to herself in the shower every morning, she was NOT having regrets.
Absolutely not. Maybe a little. She wanted to see Hiccup to ask if he could confirm these things and terrible weapons she read about in the newspapers, to get him to verify the casualties, the weapons used, and even some of his stories.
At the very least, he could help her get to the Italian troops. Trench warfare or not, she always liked fighting in the mountains.
"No," she told herself, "don't push it. Just be his friend first, everything after will come." To be honest, she was a little worried about him. She'd never seen Hiccup, or anyone as a matter of fact, act the way he did at the table a couple days ago.
But she had to be careful. She couldn't be too caring for him, she had to put herself first. Hofferson first. Then Hiccup. Older Hiccup. Taller Hiccup. Handsomer Hiccup.
Stop it, Astrid, she thought. Much as she wanted to, though, she couldn't get over the new Hiccup. He was just as quiet as before, but this wasn't nervousness or even aloofness, like his cousin. This was more of a, 'I won't speak unless I have to' kind of thing, which she never pegged Hiccup for. His jawline was definitely more pronounced, something she still would let slip into her mind every once in a while, and he had definitely built up some muscle during his time in the army. But the one thing she couldn't get over were his eyes.
Those beautiful, bright, forest-green eyes. The same eyes she would stare at when she was younger, the very same ones that used to mesmerize her. And now, they were greener, more mesmerizing, more…
Electrifying.
She needed to stop right now. What was happening to her? She was human, she thought of boys more often than some would think, but certainly not Hiccup and the other boys she thought about certainly didn't have the same, mysterious effect Hiccup was having.
She needed a walk. Something to clear her head of all of this,… this Hiccupness.
Maybe walking through the Louvre would clear her head. She never was one for art, but maybe walking through a quiet art museum would be enough to clear her head of all of this turbulence from the war and Hiccup.
As she was walking down Paris's bustling and crowded streets, she couldn't help but think of what Stoic would think of the whole situation. He still had no idea that his son was in France, fighting in the war, the same one Stoic himself had been refused service because of his bulky size. In fact, most of the men in the village that had tried to join had been refused service, with the chief reason being they were too tall and too wide, and the British army did not have time to make custom uniforms for their size, in addition to a number of medical reasons for some. Instead, the men joined the reserve, and then went to work in the factories and the fields, doing their part to help the nation. The only ones who weren't refused service were the villagers on the younger side, namely her generation.
She remembered the reactions of all of her friends and their families. First, there was Sam "Snotlout" Jorgenson, whose father had proudly boasted that his son was going to single-handedly capture the Kaiser after Snotlout stood on the table in the Great Hall and announced to everyone he was going to war. Then there was Freddy "Fishlegs" Ingerman, whose parents were a little upset he hadn't wanted to join the Royal Navy (being a fishing family), but nonetheless proud he was going the army, despite needing to lose quite a bit of weight before going to training. Then there were the twins, Theodore "Tuffnut" Thorston and Rae "Ruffnut" Thorston, who only got in because the mandatory physical that was required at the enlistment post was performed by her brother. They told everyone about how Tuffnut walked out of the physical, quickly changed into Ruffnut's clothes (which fit him better than he previously thought) and then walked right back in for her physical. His reward: he got to slap her 5 times.
At first, she was very jealous of all of them, but now that she found out more about the type of war being fought, she wondered how they were faring. She hadn't seen any of them after she shipped out with the Red Cross, and had no idea where the whole gang had gone. She thought about writing to home, both to her family and Stoic. She would write to her family, telling them everything was ok, and maybe write something for her father, telling him about the war and how she was now nervous but shouldn't be, right? Her father fought against the rebellion in South Africa, alongside Stoic, Gobber and a few others when they were younger, and was one of the few men in the village who had extensive combat experience. Was anything he went through similar to this? Similar to what Hiccup was going through?
She had a harder time deciding if she should write to Stoic or not, since he still did not know where his son was. She believed that he could at least guess where Hiccup was, but maybe knowing Hiccup was in Paris, at least during the time she wrote it, would help. She could try using the telegraph, but doubted the message would make its way to Berk, probably just getting received in London and stopping there.
Maybe she should send the letter. Not just to her parents, but she should write one to Stoic, too. Maybe it'd give the mayor some piece of mind.
She started off running down the streets to find the post-office, she knew there was one near her hotel room, and she would have to check there to see if her superiors sent any messages anyway.
About 15 minutes later, she found the office, and it only took about 20 minutes to write each letter and write down the correct addresses. After this, maybe she could still go to the Louvre, She kind of wanted to see some of the ancient sculptures that were there.
—-
The first thing one typically when walking into the Louvre is the ancient Hellenistic statue called the "Winged Victory of Samothrace", also known as "Nike of Samothrace", a white marble statue that is one of the few truly Hellenistic statues left in the world. It is celebrated throughout the world of art for its depiction of flowing drapery and the amount detail put into every aspect of the woman, like the feathers on the wings and the way the clothes wrap around the body. Despite the missing head and arms, the statue is still considered a masterpiece.
But for Hiccup, the first thing he noticed was the people. Parisians, and from the looks of some of them, they were generals or old-money aristocrats, probably the same people who had gotten everyone into the war in the first place. It made his blood boil, that decisions to go to war were made by the politicians but the sacrifices made by the young soldiers and the general population.
Then again, that same general population voted for those politicians, right?
Shunning the philosophical thinking, Hiccup decided it would be best to just avoid making judgments on those people for the day. He was in uniform, and if any of them wanted to talk with him about the situation at the front, he would do his best to remain calm.
Just look at the art, Hiccup, he told himself.
And so he did. He went around the building, looking collections of art that predated the Vikings, some of them even predated written languages. He saw the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, Madonna of the Rocks, and countless other works of art.
But there was one piece that stuck with him, something that Hiccup couldn't help but analyze to the best of his abilities, and this was a painting called "Liberty Leading the People", by some some artist, he assumed French, named Delacroix. In the painting, it shows a women, he assumes she represents 'liberty' leading the people in a charge against an unknown enemy. The description was in French, but Hiccup being fluent in French, saw that is was about the July Revolution of 1830. How many revolutions did France have, he thought.
What caught his attention about the painting was not the use of the colors or the romanticism of the while thing.
It was the bodies underneath Liberty.
Hiccup was so intent on analyzing the structure, he didn't hear a familiar voice call out to him, and wasn't prepared for the hand that shook his shoulder.
—
Astrid will swear, for the rest of life, that she has never seen anyone jump as high as Hiccup did that day in the Louvre. Or anyone look as startled as he did in that moment.
"Oh, its just you" he said with air of relief.
"Well, who else would it be?" She may have said that with a little too much aggression, and almost immediately regretted it.
"I don't know, a German, Astrid? There are a lot of them in France…" Hiccup . Both of them just kind of stared at one another, contemplating the next words out of their mouths.
"Sorry" they said in unison. Hiccup chuckled slightly, and this made Astrid smile. She'd never heard him chuckle or laugh before, and kind of found it relaxing. Hiccup decided to be the one to speak first.
"So, what brings you to here? I didn't take you for an art buff in Berk."
"That's probably because the only art we have are Bucket's paintings of all of the former mayors, and a few of what they would look like if they were Vikings." They shared a laugh over Bucket's paintings, a man who some unfortunate incidents regarding his head, and now had to wear a special metal helmet to protect against any further damage. He was a very nice man, but lost a few things after the accidents, although now he was a brilliant painter. Not nearly as good as the ones showcased here though.
"Yeah I suppose you have a point there, Astrid. What have you seen so far?"
"Oh, I've just kind of been walking around, looking at the ancient stuff like the statues and vases, not really the paintings, although I kind of like this one," she said, pointing to the Delacroix painting in front of the pair.
"Why do you like this one?" He asked, although he was pretty sure he knew the reason why.
"Because there is a woman leading them into battle," Astrid responded with a tiny smirk, and was glad to see that Hiccup, too, was smiling. "Although, I don't really know much about the painting, and I can't really understand the description of the painting."
"I thought you took French courses, like the rest of us?"
"Yeah, but I never really did well in them. I had 'Legs help me out"
"Oh. Well, here let me give you a summary. So, this painting was painted for a revolution that came after the original French Revolution in the 1790s, ok?"
"How many did France have?" She asked incredulously.
"I guess too many. But anyway, the lady at the front represents Liberty, so it's putting an idea into physical form, and this is leading the people against what I'm going to say are the monarchists or some kind of government troops."
"Ok, that makes more sense, because I was wondering why she was carrying a flag in the painting. Seems like it would just make running with a gun harder."
"Yeah, it typically does, rifles can be kind of heavy" Hiccup added.
"So, why were you staring at the bodies?" She asked, knowing it would probably not get a positive response, and decided to follow it up with: "if you don't want to answer, its ok. I understand"
"No no, its ok. I can talk about some things I know or have seen." He took a deep breath, before continuing, "I was looking at them because, well, I've seen so many bodies, you know, in the, um, trenches," He was tugging at the small ponytails in his hair, like a nervous habit, "and the bodies in here look peaceful"
"Peaceful?"
"Yeah, like look at their faces," he pointed, "see how their eyes are closed, and from their faces it looks like they're just resting? That's not how people die in war, most of the time. Their eyes are open and dead, a lot of times there'll be body parts missing, sometimes no head at all, and they don't look like they laid down for a nap. When you are shot, your just fall down, or the bullet knocks you back, and your body will be in all sorts of shapes."
"Oh." There followed an awkward, uncomfortable pause where both of them were just staring at the artwork, before Hiccup asked, "Do you want to go get some food? There's probably a few nice restaurants around here." Astrid was not sure where this was coming from, but something inside of her bubbled up into her chest, and to her horror, she found herself blushing.
Even worse? Her blush must have been noticeable, because Hiccup started getting a slight pink tone to his cheeks…
"Uhh, yeah yeah, sure, I haven't had anything to eat in a little while" That was a total lie, she had breakfast not 2 hours ago. However, it was getting closer to lunch, and maybe spending a little bit more time with Hiccup wouldn't be a bad thing. Right?
The second they stepped outside, Astrid felt a cool summer breeze, and saw that there no a cloud in the sky. This gave her an idea. "Do you want to get a table outside? It's so nice out and that we can enjoy the sun, since it's not out that often."
"Yeah that would be a great idea!" He smiled, and she noted that it was probably the first time she'd ever seen him genuinely smile. It was a closed smile, but when he turned his head to face her, she saw the right corner of his mouth ever so slightly lift so that he was grinning.
Somehow, that face made her feel happy. Not the happy like just passed a test happy, not the 'I got a new throwing axe', not even the 'Snotlout won't be able to hit on me because he's on the other side of the Channel in France' kind of happy, which is pretty remarkable.
This kind of happy was something more genuine, something more important.
Something new.
Astrid Hofferson was no stranger to new things, but she was a stranger to higher emotions. She had no experience with this bubbling feeling in her chest, or the butterflies in her stomach, and honestly did not know what to do with it other than not letting Hiccup see it.
The absolute worst thing about these feelings she was having?
She liked it.
—
When Hiccup woke up this morning, he knew that he was going to that cathedral, and that was about it. Maybe go for a walk, have some wine, some food, and get a lot of sleep, when he could.
He did not, however, expect to have ratatouille and Ctes-du-Roussillon red wine with Astrid Hofferson on the banks of the River Seine, in the shade of an umbrella in the middle of a cool, June day. This must be a dream. It has to be. He invited her to get food, thinking she was very well going to turn him down, especially after that incident a couple of days ago. He knew this morning he told the Father he was going to get his mind off of the war, but being honest, he didn't expect to actually have Astrid with him to do that. He thought seeing her was a one time thing.
The thought that it might be the beginning of an actual friendship? That thought excited him. It so excited him, he was glad he was wearing his newly cleaned Service Dress (basically the formal attire) this morning, because otherwise it would've felt improper.
"So, whats your rank in the army? You never told me, but I saw your uniform and the medals and ribbons on it" she said, gesturing to his chest.
"Oh, yeah, so I joined as a private, but then after a little bit was promoted to Corporal, and I might be receiving another promotion here soon. And as for the ribbons and medals, the ribbons aren't really important its just stuff for passing the infantry and marksman stuff, and some of the medals are the same, except for these few. This one," he pointed to a silver medal with a red and white ribbon, "is the Meritorious Service Medal, which I got at Aubers Ridge. This one," he pointed to the bronze star medal with palms and a star on the red and green ribbon, "is a French award for bravery, called the Croix de guerre, got it at Ypres the second time I was there. Over here we have the Distinguished Conduct Medal," he pointed to a silver medal with a red and navy blue ribbon, "which I received at Ypres the first time I was there, and finally we have the Belgian Croix de guerre," pointing to the bronze star medal with a leaflet and red and bronze ribbon, "which I got at the first Ypres, also." When he looked up from his chest, he saw Astrid with her mouth agape and eyes wide, which slowly spread into a smirk as her eyes got smaller and smile got wider.
"That's quite the impressive collection, then. Are any of those medals hard to get?" She asked, still incredulous at the amount he had.
"Ummm, depends. They're all for bravery, but I think the one not many people is the DSC, a lot of us got the French and Belgian medals, since we were fighting in France and Belgium at the time."
"Ok, so you said Ypres twice, why did you got there a second time?"
"Beats me, the Germans must like the food there," he said it with a slight chuckle, and it lit him like Guy Fawkes' Day up when she cracked a smile, "but in all honesty, the German just want to break through there. I don't know why, I could probably figure it out with enough maps and information, but that's not my rank so I won't bother."
"Ok. So, what is it like here? I mean, the scenery, in France and Belgium. Is it pretty?" He could see in her eyes the curiosity, like she didn't know she wanted to know what the countryside was like, having never been outside Berk before.
"It's…well…ummmm…it used to be a lot prettier, you know, before the war and stuff. At first, when we were digging the trenches, we joked that we were just removing topsoil and helping with the irrigation and soil renewal," back at a time when they all thought the war was going to last only another few months at most. So much has happened and changed since then…
No. Not right now, he thought to himself, stay focused on this. Remind yourself there is more to the world than what you do and remind yourself you're still a good person.
"Ugh, this may sound horrible, but I really want to see it. You know, before the war. I've heard the fields are beautiful up there, and in Belgium, too."
"Yeah, they're pretty beautiful. The mountains of Italy are beautiful, too. Me and some other guys were over there for a little bit on assignment with the Italians, helping train their snipers and rifleman in some stuff, and the Dolomites are amazing when they're not covered in snow. The was the wind blows the grass and the flowers, so it looks like a cascade of water, or the sheer heights of the mountains and the view you get, its absolutely stunning!"
"So, out of all of the places you've been, whats your favorite?" Astrid seemed to be excited with the answer to this question, almost like she knew the answer already.
"Umm, as beautiful as France and Belgium have been, I'm going to go with Italy. The mountains, well, they just kind of remind me of home."
"I'll be honest, Hiccup, I knew you were going to say Italy. But now, I have to see it!"
"Well, how about the next time I'm there, I'll send you a drawing or something of it?" This was his shot, and he was really hoping he would hit his mark…
"Yes! That would be great!" Ok, she seemed genuinely happy with that, no signs of sneering, probably not lying, no awkward behavior afterwards…
Bullseye.
"Alright its a deal! Speaking of home, what happened after I left? Like, did anything change or…?"
"You mean, because of you, or just in general?"
"In general."
"Ok, so not much really. Olga had twins, so she's happy and her husband is happy, too. Oh! Wait," she seemed excited about this one, "Silent Sven is talking again!"
"What? Oh, come oooonnnnnn!" He threw his hands up and threw his head back, acting so exasperated and dramatic that he heard Astrid giggle.
Astrid. Giggle. He'd never heard it before.
And dare he say it was, kind of cute.
He liked where this was going.
"So, I leave for a war, the scale of which is global and never been done before, and Silent Sven decides to speak?" Hiccup moaned with that characteristic moan that Astrid had never heard sarcastically, but plenty whenever he was getting chewed out by Stoic.
"Yeah, sorry about that. It wasn't much though, he was just yelling at the twins" her response told him she was nervous about saying anything that agreed with his statement, like she was afraid of making him upset he left, which, in a way, he thought was nice of her.
"Yeah, its ok. So, how is the gang? I know that Fishlegs wanted to go to university and Snotlout wanted to do boxing, but…" he trailed off when he was her face darken, "whats wrong? Did something happen?"
"Yeah, kind of. I don't know. They all joined up. Even Ruffnut, she wanted to blow stuff up and had her brother do the physical for her in her clothes, so as far as I know she's in the army, and I haven't seen or spoken to them since they joined."
"Oh, I'm…I'm sorry." Do something, Hiccup, she's obviously upset about it. "You know, ummmm, they're probably ok! They might have gotten sent to India or Africa for Territorial Duty, maybe. They might not even be on the frontlines!" In his heart, he hoped that was true. Guys that were sent on what was essentially guard duty were considered lucky, since they weren't in Europe for the main battlegrounds.
"Yeah, I guess. I'm just… I'm just worried about them, you know? It's…It's scary not knowing. Kind of like… kind of like…" she looked down at her knees, keeping her eyes locked on her legs as she trailed off.
"Kind of like what, Astrid?"
"Kind of like with you." There was a pause before she explained further, lifting her head up to look him in the eyes, "I didn't know you that well, and I sure as hell didn't treat you right in Berk, but I didn't like not knowing what happened when you left. I thought I was responsible, I felt like I did something to you to make you want to leave, like I kicked you out of your home." Tears were threatening to well up in Astrid's eyes as she turned away, he could see that much, and Hiccup went into damage control mode to mitigate any further injury to their friendship.
"No, no no no no no, you didn't do anything, it wasn't you Astrid. Hey, look at me," he said with the softest voice he could, like coaxing a dog out of hiding, "Astrid, its ok. You didn't do anything. I was just going through some… family matters. It wasn't your fault. I just, you know… I thought my dad was disappointed in me so I thought this would make him proud, thats all. Ok?"
"Yeah, yeah ok. Sorry." She wiped her eyes, and any evidence that was about to cry was gone, save the slightly puffy state of her eyelids.
"Ok. Now, let's finish our food, before it gets too cold and the we can do something else, ok?"
"Alright, sounds good."
—
Today was a good day, Astrid thought. No, it was a great day.
So, she had dinner with Hiccup. Who is really cute. And pretty funny. And now knows one of her biggest insecurities, but he doesn't seem to care, at least on the surface. That might be a problem, but, if it was, would he have invited her to go the book store, music shop and then the moving pictures theater after?
Most likely not. Still a chance, but not likely. Astrid was confident. Pretty confident.
She was also confident she liked Hiccup. It was at the museum, when she first saw him in his uniform, with all the ribbons and the badges and that chevron that said he was an officer, then when they were having lunch by the river, she could've sworn his eyes were hypnotizing her. She couldn't stop smiling or staring into those green beauties, and she was so impressed by the amount of medals he got for bravery, it just astounded her. Hiccup was not someone who was in it for the glory, she knew him that well, which means he was doing all of those things to protect others from the enemy. He was genuinely caring, and wanted to protect allies, not destroy enemies.
In her opinion, that was the sign of a true and good warrior.
After the theater, he walked her back home and they both agreed to meet the day after next, Hiccup had some meeting he had to attend for the army, and they would meet at the small cafe where they first saw each other.
In Astrid's mind, this was a second date. Yes, a date. She wasn't sure this morning when she woke up, if dating Hiccup would hurt her image as a tough female warrior, but by the looks of it, it wouldn't at all, Hiccup seems to be quite the combatant and she came to the conclusion that she likes him. It still is rocking her world that she likes Hiccup. I mean, come on, years ago you wouldn't even look at him or speak to him, and now you're like fawning over him, she thought to herself. And it hurt, almost.
What if she had given Hiccup a chance earlier on in life? What if she was his friend while they were still in school? What if she had a chance to stop him from leaving? It would've saved everyone some heartbreak and trouble, namely her, Stoic and Gobber, but then would they be here now? It was all too complicated. All Astrid knew was that she wished she had been at this stage with Hiccup earlier, as regret filled her while she got ready for bed.
The day after tomorrow, she would do right by Hiccup. She wanted to help him through the war, she wanted him to survive, but at the same time, he would be on the frontlines, and from what she was reading and hearing, there was a high possibility he was going to get seriously harmed or hurt. She didn't want to make that commitment if it meant she was just going to lose him right away.
Then again, she already liked him. It seems her heart had made the decision for her. And that made her happy. Really happy, for the first time in a long time, and Astrid smiled and giggled in childish excitement. She had made up her mind:
She was going to date Harry "Hiccup" Horrendous Haddock III.
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Ok, so I realized that I did not do an introduction on the first chapter, left out a chapter title, and completely forgot some things lol. So, apologies in advance, and I thought I'd stick this author's note in here at the end so those of you who liked the story would be able to get straight into it.
Ok, introductions. This will all most likely go to my bio later, too. My name is butters2016 and I have been a fan of HTTYD since it came out in 2015, I've wanted to write for a long time, as I loved reading and writing as a child, but was too nervous to do it. Now, almost 8 years later, and a lot more mature, I decided to give it a go! I was inspired to write this based off of some college courses in history, and once of my major interests is 20th century history, so I figured I'd write about it here with a great group of characters and a wonderful community!
Alright onto the story stuff. So, I am on spring break, so for the coming week or so the updates will be pretty steady and have a lot of content that normally would be split up, but after this I go back to college and I have a pretty rigorous schedule of classes, so I won't be able to update as often, but will give out much longer chapters as often as a I can to help make up for it! I'll also be brushing up on my grammar rules, so things will be properly indented and stuff later on!
So, this being my first story, reviews are appreciated and follows/favorites are as well. I like to see that people want to read this, and it motivates me to write more and write better. If that's not your style, fine by me, I didn't make an account until somewhat recently and I've been reading fanfics for almost 7 years. I have an idea of where I want this story to go, I'll probably write a sequel anyway because I got the idea literally today while golfing, and the sequel will take place during the Russian Revolution regardless of whether or not a lot of people read this story. This isn't harsh, I'm just excited because I think its a really cool idea for the sequel.
Alright, I'll stop boring y'all with this long af AN, so I'm going to end it by saying reviews and favs/follows are appreciated! Thank you guys!
