Chapter 1

I love my village.

In a way that not many would understand. My Father tells me it's natural because I was a born warrior, a Hofferson. I'm not too sure about that. I didn't understand this feeling half the time. I just knew that every time the village was in danger, I would be almost desperate to help them. But I was never allowed to do much.

So from a young age I trained almost everyday so that when the time came that I was of age to fight, I would be a competent fighter. A perfect fighter. I wanted to be someone that was useful to my village. Today was one of those days.

I hit my axe against the tree and forcefully pulled it out before throwing it into another tree behind me with all my might imagining that it was Snotlout. My axe bit through the air making a whistling noise before hitting its target with a resounding cluck.

Still not good enough, I decided.

I need to get better, to be the best so that I can protect my family and village. I swept my blonde fringe out of my eyes and tried to even my heavy breathing. The cold air made my dry throat hurt and there was a healthy sheen of sweat coating my skin. Overall I felt gross and irritable as hell.

With more anger I tried to pull my axe out again. It didn't bulge. I pulled harder. Still it didn't move. It was in too deep. I huffed in frustration. I pushed my foot against the tree and pulled again. My arm muscles protested against the effort.

I gasped in surprise when it slipped out sending me to the ground on my back. I sighed in relief.

My victory was short-lived.

"NO!" I cried. Because my axe was ruined. A thick vein-like crack covered half of the axe metal. I felt my heart drop to my feet. This axe was the only thing I had left from my late uncle Finn. It was the last Snoggletog gift he gave me before he died. Oh Thor, please don't let it be beyond repair.

I slowly stood up and started to make my way to the forge, already feeling the overwhelming sense of impending loss and sadness for my favorite axe.

On my way, none of my fellow villagers could really tell what I was feeling because I portrayed my usual cool indifference. It will be a cold day in Helheim before anyone sees Fearless Astrid Hofferson shed a tear. Especially over something so sentimental.

It was late afternoon, and I hoped Gobber was still at the forge. I passed by Silent Sven's farm and saw Snotlout around the corner with the twins. Ugh, maybe he won't notice me— too late. Snotlout made a bee-line towards me with that stupid obnoxious arrogant smirk on his face. It just made me angrier and nauseatious. I narrowed my eyes and clenched my fists. I was so not in the mood for this.

"Hey Astrid baby. Gods, you look like a wet rat. I bet you missed—Ow—aaAH!" I punched him before I grabbed his arm, making him sqeek like a girl when I pulled it backwards, almost breaking it.

"I'm not your 'baby'," I hissed at him and roughly released his arm.

I threw the twins a glare daring them to say anything that would anger me. They wisely took a step back as I passed them.

"Wow, that was worse than usual. Who yakked in her mutton?" I heard Tuffnut say behind me.

At the mention of food I became aware of the hungry ache in my stomach. I haven't eaten since dagmál so engrossed in training like I was. I'll be sure to stop by the Great Hall later. My axe was my priority now.

When I reached the forge, I leaned in through the shop window to see inside.

"Gobber, you in here?" I called.

I heard the sound of metal hitting the floor to the right. I turned my head and saw Hiccup. His green eyes were startled. He wore an apron over his green tunic.

"H-Hi Astrid. Did you- do you need help with something?" He stuttered, picking up the arm full of maces that he dropped.

"I need this fixed," I lifted my axe up to show him the crack, "where's Gobber?"

"You just missed him. He left early to go help my Dad with something. I'm just about to close up the shop."

My face fell, "oh..." I couldn't hide my disappointment. Aside from having sentimental value, my axe was my only mode of self defense against Dragons. If there was a raid tomorrow, my axe would surely be beyond repair if I had to use it.

Hiccup eyed the crack on my axe. I could tell he meant nothing bad by it, otherwise I would have snapped at him. I am not usually like this. Snapping at people over nothing. But I was exhausted and upset. I couldn't help it.

It looked as if he was studying it. As if assessing the damage. With a nod of his head, he seemed to make a decision.

"The forge is still lit. I could fix it if you like?" He offered.

I was caught off guard. He could do that? I mean, I know he is Gobber's apprentice. I just didn't think he was actually capable of repairing a weapon like my axe. I've only seen him sharpen weapons.

"You can fix this?"

He must have read the doubt on my face and rushed to reassure me. "I can. I've done it before. It'll be almost as good as new. I promise."

I hesitated. Then searching his eyes, I was surprised to find that they weren't the plain dull green that I was expecting, but a vibrant forest green. I blinked. He smiled a crooked toothy grin. He was actually kind of cute and obviously nervous from my perusal. I saw nothing but hopeful innocence.

"Alright," I handed him my axe with one hand which he needed both arms to carry, "be careful with it. It's important to me." I gave him a look that made it clear that there would be hell to pay if he damaged my axe further.

He nodded immediately, "I'll have to though. With a crack like this, I need to break the metal, melt it, then reshape the axe. Come by the shop tomorrow morning after dagmál, it should be done by then."

I nodded once, at least he sounded as if he knew what to do. Without another word, I turned around and left to the Great Hall for náttmál.

After eating, my mood improved. I still felt mildly irritated but not enough to bite anyone's head off. The other teens sat at my table as usual but after I almost broke Snotlout's arm they didn't bother me. Unfortunately, Snotlout wasn't at all discouraged by my blatant dislike. He must be some kind of masochist, but at least he gave me space, for now.

When I got home, I filled a wooden bath basin with water that was heated over a fire. I added some cold water so that I didn't burn myself and a few herbs. I took off my armor and clothes before lowering myself into the water.

I sighed feeling my muscles relax in the hot water and my stress leave me. With a bar of soap I began to scrub the dirt and sweat off my body. When I was in the bath, I could relax and reflect on my day.

I couldn't help but think of Hiccup.

Hiccup was ...different. He was a scrawny kid who one way or another unintentionally caused trouble with his 'inventions' that didn't seem to work.

Sometimes he could cause more destruction during a raid than a dragon. It was something that the twins secretly admired. Because of that, he was often the target of Snotlout's antagonism and the Villages' ire.

He was smart, I'll give him that. And not the annoying kind like Fishlegs. He was smart in a way that was witty and sarcastic. It was something I could respect. But in a time like now, when our parents war was about to become our own, your skill in battle mattered far more. If you couldn't fight to protect your village, you were considered useless. A liability. If he wasn't the Chief's son, he would be even more of a social outcast.

When night came I slept restless. I chalked up my unease to being unused to not having my axe next to my bedside. I woke up in the middle of the night two times before going outside to use the outhouse.

The next day after dagmál, I made my way to the forge. I was interested to see if Hiccup really did fix my axe.

This time, instead of leaning into the shop window, I went around and walked inside.

"Hiccup?" I called, not seeing him around. No answer. "Hiccup?!" I called louder. And still nothing.

Now I was becoming pissed off. Why wasn't he here? Didn't he fix my axe? Was I being stood up? He's got some nerve. As I was fuming I didn't notice Gobber enter the shop.

"Astrid? What are ya doin' ere so early in the mornin' lass?" Gobber asked.

"Do you know where Hiccup is? He was supposed to have my axe fixed." I asked with a strained smile.

Gobber looked contemplative as he brushed his long mustache with his hook prosthetic. "So that's wha' the lad was up to. I found him ere' asleep. He looked exhausted, circles under his eyes and everything so I carried him back to his house to get some rest. I didn't see him at náttmál last night so I doubt he's had anything ta eat." He walked into a room at the back that I didn't notice. He came back out with an axe in his hand. "I'm guessin' this iz urs?" He handed it over to me.

Unbelievable.

It was good as new. Just like Hiccup said it would be. As if the crack never existed. I looked for the inscription that was on the side of the handle to make sure it was really mine and sure enough it was there. I tested it by swinging it through the air. It felt different, but better.

My smile was wide. I couldn't help but feel my heart warm up towards the scrawny Viking who fixed my axe. Any irritation towards Hiccup left and I felt a little embarrassed and guilty for my inner outburst before Gobber showed up.

Hiccup skipped his meal and probably stayed up most of last night to fix my axe. For me.

"Gobber," my voice was softer, the tone probably surprised the old blacksmith, "would you give Hiccup my thanks?"

"Sure lass, I'll let im' know."

Hiccup wasn't so useless afterall.

...

Hiccup's body was motionless and cold as he lay on his bed. His lungs took no air. It was as if he wasn't there at all. You would think he was dead if it weren't for the steady beat of his heart that signified that he was indeed still alive.

The air around Hiccup shimmered and distorted slightly. Toothless lifted his head from his bed stone and growled when he sensed an unknown presence. The black dragon's eyes slit and surveyed the room. Toothless crooned in confusion when he saw no one was in the room. The air around his rider was normal again. The presence had left as soon as it came.

Hiccup suddenly took in a sharp breath. As if he had been holding his breath under water for a long time. And comparatively, he basically had.

Toothless approached Hiccup and warbled in worry, licking his rider's face.

Hiccup groaned and with a gasp realized he couldn't move his body. His eyes snapped open seeing Toothless next to him.

He felt numb. Weak. Like an electric current had zinged through him and taken all his energy. It was as if he had been paralyzed. The experience was dizzying and not to mention a little scary.

Slowly, feeling began to return to his body, starting with his toes and gradually making its way up to his hairline. It tickled but didn't hurt.

He had dreamed about Astrid.

Not his usual fantasy dream. This was different. It was as if he was in her mind. Could feel whatever she felt. Could see whatever she saw. He could remember each of her thoughts as if he had thought them himself.

This wasn't an ordinary dream. It felt too real. He could remember the entire dream from start to finish. Usually he could only remember pieces or nothing at all.

He recognized the timeline to be around a week before he shot down Toothless.

Finding the strength he pushed himself to sit upright.

"I'm okay bud," he rested his hand on his dragon's head, "I just feel so utterly ...confused right now. What on Earth just happened?"

Náttmál — the evening meal.

Dagmál — the morning meal.

Yay the first chapter is written! Norse words will be used.

I hope you enjoyed that. I'd like some feed back on Astrid's character.

As you may have guessed, in Hiccup's dreams Astrid will be written in first person. While current events will be written in third person.

Until I update,

LaylaDeMich