A/N – Sorry it's been such a long time for an update on this story. I feel like I've been playing catch-up most of this year so far and it's exhausting. But, where we are! Thanks for reading, team! I'm glad that you're enjoying this story. It's fun to write.

X

Chapter 5

Over her afternoon tea, Astrid realized that if she were to enact revenge on Snotlout for harming Hiccup, she would expose their midnight trysts. Then she and Hiccup would both be in trouble of a different sort. Her father would be furious, of course, and her mother would surely disapprove, but she didn't know what would happen to Hiccup. He would be stripped of his squire-hood, and he'd never be able to become a knight.

The thought of him losing that chance, and because of her, it filled her with dread and guilt.

"Astrid?" her mother's voice rang out.

"Yes?" Astrid snapped her attention from the tea in her hand to her mother. She sat across the table; her kind eyes were focused on Astrid.

"You seem distracted."

"Do I?" Astrid sipped her tea. It had grown cold during her thoughts.

"Your mind kept wandering during your lessons, too," her mother said. She set her own cup down on the saucer. "Is something bothering you?"

"No," Astrid said at once. "I'm fine. Just…tired, I suppose I didn't sleep very well last night. Strange dreams."

Her mother nodded and her kind smile stretched her painted lips. She said, "Yes, of course, nothing you can tell me about. But, you know that I was once a young girl, too. I had troubles I didn't want to speak to my mother about, but, looking back now as a mother, I'm sure she would have understood. She might have provided some much needed insight as well."

Astrid ran her thumb along the leafy china.

"Astrid, dear, is it one of the squires?"

Astrid nearly dropped the cup. "What? No, why would you think that?"

Her mother laughed. "You're as love stuck as a girl could be."

She felt her face burn with those words. She didn't love him, did she?

"You've been to every practice since the young men arrived," her mother said, lips against her teacup. "You're distracted. You're not thinking as clearly about your lessons. You sigh ever so often. You've got all the symptoms. Tell me, which one is it?"

Astrid cleared her throat and poured the warm tea from the pot into her cooling tea. She wasn't thinking clearly? Nonsense. She said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course, not," her mother said with a smile. She sipped her tea loudly. "This means, however, that I'll have to guess."

Astrid pretended that her cheeks did not burn.

"Thinking of you, now, he'd have to be strong. And skilled. Oh, he'd have to be skilled in order to catch your eye. And honorable. You have a strong sense of duty, thank the gods, and he'd have to have the same. And handsome, but not so handsome that he is in love with himself. He'd need to be a worthy catch for you, but who?" Her mother hummed.

She must have already figured it out. Hiccup came from an honorable, well-loved family. His father had served the royal family for decades. Hiccup was all of the things she'd mentioned: strong, skilled, honorable, handsome. He was, by far, a worthy catch. Wasn't he? Hiccup could parry and calculate, but did that make him king material?

Her mother made no guesses. Instead, she laughed and leaned back in her chair without slumping. "I suppose I'll let you keep your secrets until you're ready to tell me."

"Thank you," Astrid said.

"But, I do warn you, dear, that the man you pull close to you will become your king," said her mother in a low tone of warning. "There will be no chance to throw him back out to sea and find another. If you pull a squire from training, he will never be able to rejoin the order. Keep that in mind. You'll be struck with him for the rest of your life, and if you decided after ten years to poison his wine, the people will suspect it."

Her great, great grandmother, Queen Gertrude, was suspected of pouring rat poison into her husband's cup. When they'd married, he'd been a spry young winemaker, but the years as king spoiled him. He'd grown bald, loud, and so fat he couldn't leave his bedchamber. When he'd died, they had to take him out in pieces.

"I won't make rash decisions," Astrid said. "I promise."

"That's a good girl," her mother said. "And a wise ruler."

X

That evening, the squires practiced in the courtyard to demonstrate how far they'd come since their first day. Many spectators filled the courtyard's stands, including the royal family. Because of her mother's words that afternoon, Astrid tried hard not to follow Hiccup's movements around the yard. She didn't want to give him away.

Hiccup fought valiantly; he'd gotten better with his footwork and quickness. The others had improved as well, which her father greatly applauded.

"Knight Commander Haddock knows how to teach them," King Arvid said proudly, loud enough for his dukes and magistrates to hear.

Astrid did not look at her father or mother to see if either gauged her reaction. She would give them nothing to suspect Hiccup.

The squires competed against each other, sword against sword, until one by one they lost. Tegard sat on the edge of his seat, applauding each victory, and would have sat closer if their parents had allowed it. He hollered once on the first match, but her father pulled him back into his royal positon.

"Don't shout, Tegard," her father had said. "You, as Prince, do not cheer on winners or losers. Each squire may become a knight that fights to protect you."

Astrid held her hands flat against each other to keep from cringing each time Hiccup fought. She needn't have worried. Hiccup won each battle.

The final round came down between Hiccup and Snotlout.

"Cousin against cousin," Queen Lenora said. "Couldn't have planned that better."

"I agree," King Arvid said.

"Snotlout's been playing dirty," Astrid said. "He tripped Fishlegs."

"That he has," her father agreed. "But, while I don't readily approve the tactics, he has been winning. In a real fight, winning means surviving."

Astrid didn't agree. A real knight didn't need to use dirty tactics in order to win. Hiccup hadn't. He'd won each match with skill and talent.

The fight started. Snotlout came after Hiccup with tight offence, and Hiccup could only defend. They danced about the ring, back and forth, with Snotlout slashing and striking, and Hiccup countering.

"He'll tire himself out with that sort of strategy," Astrid mumbled.

"True," her father said, "but he also might tire out his opponent."

"If they're both tired out then it accomplishes nothing."

"He's betting on his stamina being greater."

Astrid held her tongue; she knew Hiccup's stamina to be great. She tired out before he did, but she'd gotten better.

Snotlout went low; Astrid saw his hand grab the dirt, and a few others did as well. He swung his arm and he tossed the handful of dirt forward, and while Astrid was among those that gasped at the act of cowardice, Hiccup turned his back to Snotlout, and as the dirt hit, he swung his sword around his other side, and the edge of his practice sword met Snotlout's thick neck.

Neither moved as the dirt settled.

Astrid clapped her hands over her mouth to hide her smile. Of course, it wouldn't have mattered. The courtyard crowd erupted into ferocious applause.

Knight Commander Stoick stood on the side, his mouth gapping open. He shook his head, but didn't clap.

Hiccup removed his sword, and offered Snotlout his hand. Snotlout spat onto the ground, and knocked his hand away. He stood, not at all happy about the end result. He muttered something, glaring at Hiccup, who didn't look at all kind at whatever he'd spoken.

Knight Commander Stoick silenced the courtyard. He addressed King Arvid as he spoke, "Your squires are improving each day, my king."

"I see," King Arvid said. "They've fought well, King Commander. Every one of them. You should be proud. I see many with a knight's potential."

Astrid caught Hiccup's stare. His gaze lingered for a moment, then he looked to the ground.

The horn sounded, and the squires retreated into their dormitory. Knights appeared to control the crowd as they left the castle.

"Quite the show," Queen Lenora said to Astrid as they climbed from their tower.

"Yes," Astrid said.

Queen Lenora smiled, but said no more.

"You three go on without me," King Arvid said, stopping by the door to the courtyard. "I will speak with Knight Commander."

X

"Bah, these servants know how to fold clothes!" Helga spat as she pulled Astrid's pajamas from the drawer. "Disgraceful."

Helga left the drawer open, set the clothes on the vanity chair, and returned to the drawer. She yanked out a plain day dress, the one Astrid had worn the night before to meet Hiccup, and Astrid's entire chest froze. Helga shook out the dress, refolded it with precise hands, and tucked it back into the drawer.

"There," Helga said, admiring her work. "Not too shabby for being off laundry duty for twenty years. I'll have to speak with the servants about their folding. It's lacking. We've no room for imperfection in these halls."

"Of course," Astrid said. "But don't be too hard on them. I think it's Betta's girl that's been bringing the clothes."

"Betta's girl…my, she's neigh of nine years old. Too young to work, but too old not to work."

"I doubt she's doing anything with malicious intent," Astrid said, hoping to spare the servant's lecture, even by a little. She'd rather not have the guilt of that.

"True enough, my princess," Helga said. She set her hands on her hips and straightened. "And, who knows, maybe you are sleep walking."

Astrid laughed, but it felt hollow. "I have been more tired of late."

Helga nudged the drawer back into place and pointed with a chubby finger to the pajamas. "Nonsense, the staff would have seen you. Now, it's getting late. Change before you fall asleep."

With Helga's help, Astrid changed from her dress and into her pajamas. She braided her hair over her shoulder and snuggled into the plush bed. Helga blew out the lamps, one by one, until only the candle by the bedside glowed. Helga bid her goodnight, as she had each night for as long as Astrid could remember, and took the candle with her into the corridor.

Astrid waited for the darkness to ease and her eyes to focus; was the staff growing suspicious? The wrongly folded clothes in her drawer; Hiccup's mysterious absence in the evenings; little things may have added up. It wouldn't take too clever a mind to put the pieces together.

When her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she wiggled out from the bed. She didn't dress in day clothes. Instead, she pulled her thin robe over her pajamas. She retrieved a candle from her room, and without lighting it, checked the corridor, and snuck into the servant's passage a hall away, one that they didn't use as often.

She lit the candle, and started for the squire's dorm. She tiptoed through the passages, listening for wayward or wandering servants. Few people knew about the servant's passage, not even all of the servants knew about it. She had slim odds of meeting someone at the late hour, but her nerves still worried.

She found the back of the painting, and waited. And waited. She had no chair to sit in, so she knelt to the floor, and waited.

She had no way of telling time; she knew that the candle should have told her exactly how much time had passed, but she didn't know how to calculate the wax into minutes. That would be a task for another day, the next, perhaps.

With ever flicker of the wick's flame, her worry grew. Had something happened to him? Had he been found trying to sneak blades from the practice room? What would the Knight Commander do to him? Something had to have happened, the longer she sat the more sure she became. He would not have simply abandon her; he was too honorable for that. Snotlout would have had a hand in whatever happened, the scoundrel.

A guard made his sounds outside the passage. His armor clanked and rattled; his footfalls fell with the weight. The guard made a second round while she waited, then a third, and as the heavy footfalls passed on that third round, quick, nimble steps came to the painting. A soft hand unlocked the mechanism.

Astrid stepped out of the way as Hiccup stepped through. He shut the painting quickly, but without a sound. Astrid opened her mouth, but Hiccup held up a hand. His eyes bore through the painting.

He shushed her. He shushed her.

The guard's footsteps returned.

"Who's there?" the guard asked. No one answered.

Astrid knew that if the guard opened the passage, she wouldn't let him harm Hiccup. Despite that, Hiccup looked like he might get sick. Astrid reached for his arm; he jumped. His eyes jerked to her, worried, intense, and sharp. For a moment, her breath came short.

"Blasted rats," the guard muttered, and started back on his patrol.

On the way to their empty room, Hiccup whispered, "The Knight Commander is getting suspicious. He wouldn't let me out of his sight today. Snotlout is worse. He's following me around, trying to catch me breaking a rule or anything he can use against me to make me look bad."

"He's upset you beat him," Astrid said.

Hiccup shrugged. "I'm not sure I'd call it 'winning.' I'd rather have lost and listen to Snotlout gloat than have him trying to trip me every time I walk through a doorway. And, I'm sorry, my lady, but I couldn't get to the practice swords. Snotlout seemed to know that's where I wanted to go. He guarded it like a dog."

"That's alright, Squire," Astrid said. "I'm sure there is much more you can teach me without swords."

He half-laughed, and looked to the ground. "Dragons?"

She grinned. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten."

"It's hard to," he said, "when it comes from you."

She felt the red blush her cheeks. "And I'm sorry that this has been causing you so much trouble. I will defend you if it comes to that. I promise. This entire affair is more my fault than yours."

He smiled, and in the dark and flickering candle light she thought she saw a blush across his freckled nose.

He said, "It's worth the risk. I-I like spending time with you."

They both blushed, and neither tried to hide it.

X

"The Monstrous Nightmare is badly tempered," Hiccup said. "Not unlike Snotlout. He holds a grudge. Their fire is like liquid, and burns even under water for a while."

They sat across from each other on the floor. Hiccup told her what he'd learned about dragons so far, about the history, the different species, the different classes. He spoke with such earnest and passion, it melted her heart. He spoke with his hands, arms, and his shoulders; she could watch him speak for hours.

"The Nightmare, Deadly Nadder, and Gronckle were the most common species in this part of the kingdom," Hiccup said. "And as people moved around, the dragons began to move around, and soon we had Hideous Zipplebacks, Snaptrappers, and Changewings."

"What is a Snaptrapper?"

"It's a four-headed dragon," Hiccup said. "It supposedly opens all of its jaws and poises like a flower, then lures its prey with an enticing aroma."

"Wow," Astrid said, hugging her knees to her chest. This almost reminded her of the stories the old, gray-haired servant would tell, but that dear woman had been gone for some ten years.

Hiccup yawned, despite trying to hold it back.

Astrid spied the candle. They'd nearly used it up. She leaned forward and patted Hiccup's knee. "We'd better get to bed before we're missed."

"You're right," Hiccup said.

Astrid smoothed out her robe and dusted off anything that might have clung to her rear, and then picked up the candle. She said, "I hope this will be enough to get back."

Hiccup stepped around her and opened the door, and stepped through; he turned to hold it open for her, but his face had gone white.

Astrid opened her mouth, but the booming voice of the Knight Commander echoed through the corridor, "Hiccup!"