This… wasn't exactly how I thought this scene would work out… with an argument over the Virgin Mary's virginity… yet here we are. I definitely didn't put this off until the last minute like everything else I do or anything. This is still probably the most I've posted here in just one month, anyways.

Outside, away from expectation, the group of friends (but really, acquaintances) made basically out of consequence rather than compatibility loosely gathered, again, annoying the one that annoyed Merida most. He was the one to interject in the conversation she was sharing with Astrid only, mind him, that didn't require a third opinion.

"Have you ever noticed how they start arguments over literally nothing?" Astrid asked of Fishlegs.

"It would be funnier if it were about nothing," Tuffnut complained, "It's just always dumb stuff now."

The 'dumb stuff', today, wasn't exactly a battle of faith, if she were being honest with herself. Out of anybody in her family, she was most indignant towards their visits to church over the years. However, she was more indignant towards his mocking speech, so she defended the old tales about walkable water and food replication when he compared them to magician's tricks.

"You have a carnivorous pet that hasn't eaten you in your sleep yet. I'd think you were the type of person that would believe in miracles." That got a few of them to laugh.

"No," Astrid shook her head and declared, "We are not holding a religious debate."

"It's not a religious debate. She's allowed to believe in God and that Jesus was his prophet, even reincarnation," he said with a smile, and no jurisdiction over what she was 'allowed' to do, "But it's outright ignorant to believe that he... for example, was conceived immaculately."

On the higher ground, she challenged him, "What do you mean by that?"

The sneer in his response nearly made her punch him before he had finished saying, "I do hope you know where babies come from."

"They come from women," she firmly answered.

"Not spontaneously."

"Don't treat me like I'm stupid." The pull of Astrid's hand alerted her that she was now standing, but she didn't back down. "I'm aware. I'd just think the creator of the universe might be able to break their own rules now and again."

He never flinched. "Thinking isn't knowing."

"You weren't... there! You don't know either!"

Somebody said her name and was ignored.

"Human reproduction hasn't changed much in the last two thousand years," he insisted.

"So?" She narrowed her eyes. "I know you, I've seen your father. If genetics are consistent, you should look something alike."

Snotlout hollered in amusement, Astrid told him to shut up, and Hiccup just rolled his eyes.

"Right, he can't possibly be my father. I must be a miracle child of the Holy Spirit."

That final remark left her without restraint. "Or maybe it wasn't Jesus' mother that was an infidel."

He rose, so abrupt that Fishlegs jumped, and met her eyes in a fearless stare that she was surprised to find awakening a cautious chill over her skin. Although neither moved, their position was the most threatening stance either of them had taken in front of the other. In a matter of seconds, she found herself stumbling from her lead in a chaotic game. He wasn't planning to apologize for anything.

Merida's name was repeated, and all but shouted, by Astrid. Her eyes had never looked quite so unapproving. A look around revealed similar glares. Just a moment ago, Snotlout's scowl was a smile, and the twins were laughing, not wincing. Fishlegs, whom had shrunk down into a still huge form at the start of the argument, was the only one that seemed to up in bravery and move. His hand glanced against Hiccup's arm with an impossibly gentle touch, stirring her opponent.

"I'm just… getting up to leave," he mumbled, before doing just that. The silent Fishlegs followed ten steps behind him. Then a rare, bashful version of Snotlout. At some point before him, Astrid had fled without a sound. By the time Merida thought to ask, "What did I do?", only Ruffnut stood before her, gazing in apparent awe.

"You lost it."

A warning bell sounded and sent her after her twin. Merida, though, made no sudden movement.

Stepping into the next class a few minutes late was nothing she wasn't used to, but typically she never felt this disoriented, so the unamused gaze from their instructor (she still hadn't committed his name to memory) embarassed her for once. Upon seeing the rest of the class, though, nobody else was looking her way. The only one that ever had, most of the time in caution, was doing his best to ignore her now.

Fishlegs constantly whispering to his friend, though, kept drawing her attention. Hiccup seemed to wave him off, like he had earlier. She heard several fragments of Fishlegs' hardly lowered murmuring.

"Did you see Astrid?", answered only with a single nod of the head.

"At least she knows she's mean now, right?", answered with a shush, which was acknowledged with another famously unimpressed gaze from the instructor.

Merida had barely paid attention to Astrid leaving them behind, but now wondered about it. She became more irritated every time Hiccup started something, but this time it seemed that her own words were what sent her off. Nobody was alright with anything rude said to Hiccup, all of a sudden, that much was clear. It was obvious that half of what she said was either a joke or exaggeration anyways. She didn't know or have any opinion on his mother, but they all acted like they didn't realize that, even him.

The hands of the clocks in every room ticked on forward, the whole hour, then all day.

Even him.

Only when she made that last comment, something set him off, and everybody else knew it. Something she didn't know was on display in the mind of everyone she had met here, and they didn't seem to plan on telling her what it was. Why?

What makes them think I'm mad? What am I missing? And why is it my fault?

The questions were agonizing, and turned back to the one asked before, What did I do?

Even though she had no answers, she knew Astrid, and everyone else, would expect her to. Now even they might hate her. Even if they didn't, a bridge had to be rebuilt, and she had to be much more careful crossing it. The next few hours of classes, she might as well have disappeared, because her headache blurred up any thoughts now that she knew what she needed to do next.

Classes ended, and hallways emptied onto the outdoor blacktop. She found him unwinding a bike lock from the rack on the South entrance. It would be like tearing off a bandage, she thought, just a few seconds to dread. On second thought, it seemed more like swallowing a bug. It wouldn't actually hurt, just make her cringe badly for a minute and a once again whenever remembering it. Apology never came easily, and this would be the worst ever. With a deep breath, she forced herself to walk forward.

Hiccup didn't look up as she approached or when she stopped beside him. It was up to her to start the interaction, unfortunately. On the bright side, he wouldn't notice that she couldn't stand to look at him while saying, "I didn't mean any of that from earlier." When her tone started out sounding bold, she tightened her jaw to make her voice neutral. "About your mum, I mean. If that's what made you angry."

He still didn't make any move to suggest he was listening, only put away the lock and pulled the bike out of the rack.

"I'm just telling you I wasn't being bold or nothing. Didn't know I was crossing a line."

Still, all Hiccup would afford her was a blank glance or two as he wiped dew off of the seat and started walking away.

The ease with which he ignored Merida threw her sense of balance off. Most people would pay more attention to random passerby, and this was obviously out of pettiness, despite her attempt to apologize. She reset her composure and let the steel back into her words. "You can't possibly be that cross with me." Still, no response came as he reached the curb. Quickly she caught up to him and stepped into his way. "You'll not say a single word?"

At last, he let his irritation took over and spoke, "That's what we were supposed to do, wasn't it?"

There was breath, but no words ready for her to use.

He was firm in asking, "Remember agreeing to stop talking to each other? That's what I'm doing. I'm not talking to you, and I'm walking away." He started to move around her.

"I told you, I'm not starting anything." Trying to sound calm wasn't working as well as hoped, but that didn't matter if nobody was listening. "Today was stupid, let's forget about it."

She meant to say sorry, though the word disgusted her, before he glared back looking like she must have been tricking him into something.

"I don't think you understood me. I don't want anything to do with you. Keep talking to my friends, that's fine. Just… please pretend that we never met, forget that I exist, or if you want, consider this the point at which I died," he requested indifferently, "Find another person to drive crazy. I have enough to deal with already. We're done doing this." He mounted the bike and sat still for a moment.

Now that she had a moment to speak, there was still nothing to say. Even if there was, he wouldn't let her finish. Besides, he only stayed to say one more thing.

"You didn't cross a line today. You crossed it the first time we spoke. I'm headed back to the other side now. Don't wait up." He set onto the road.

A dry wind swept against her face and caused her to blink. Only now that she had been left behind did she feel oddly alone, even more than earlier. Astrid was inside, but she couldn't talk to her now. Nobody was waiting for her to come home. The oddball had even told her off. It became starkly apparent, at that moment, there was absolutely no one that would listen anymore. None of them had ever wanted to in the first place.

Who cared? She felt foolish for ever trying to stay on anyone's good side.