THE GHOST OF WARBOROUGH HALL
"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart."
– Marcus Aurelius, 121 AD – 180 AD
CHAPTER TEN:
"Astrid proved herself to be a good student to Hiccup. She was a fast learner, she was attentive to the Nadder's every need, and soon the dragon's fondness for her turned to something steadfast, something strong.
"Hiccup likewise proved to be a not-so-lenient teacher that Astrid originally thought he would be. He sometimes even forewent gentlemanliness in favour of strictness, which, in turn, worked rather well with Astrid's focused personality.
"The Nadder learned to fly again very quickly, and so Astrid trained with her dragon nearly every day over the next month. It was true that there were times when her Nadder would be gone for long periods of time, but Astrid did not mind these absences, for she knew that the dragon merely wanted to be in solitude for a while. She knew that she would always come back, and the dragon always did, more affectionate than ever. It was a brilliant, golden time in Astrid's life, and she wished that it would last forever. But such things were never meant to last, and the shimmer soon started to fade along with the turning of the leaves."
"A few weeks before the ball, I decided to sneak out and look for the beautiful Nadder. I wanted to spend some more time with her, for I knew that I would not get the chance again once the families started to pour in.
"I found her sleeping in the woods, her scales shining bright and sapphire underneath the dappled sunshine of the autumn canopies above. For one long moment I simply stood there and looked at her, almost in awe, and felt proud at how healthy and beautiful she looked. I stepped forward, but the sound of the leaves crunching underneath my feet startled her awake. She was up in her feet in a flash, tail pointed rigidly skywards, spikes raised up.
"I nearly stumbled back in alarm at this very hostile reception. I put my hands up in a peaceful gesture as I slowly walked towards her once more. Hi girl, I said in a soothing, low voice. It's me! It's Astrid – do you not recognise me?
"She lowered her spikes at the sound of my voice, but her pupils were still narrowed to slits. She stalked around me, sniffing my hair. She suddenly crouched and gave a low squawk.
"What's wrong? I asked, testing her, for I already knew why she was acting like so. The confusion in her eyes was evident, even to me.
"The tension in the air was so thick that I nearly jumped out of my skin when Hiccup spoke from behind me.
"You know that you shouldn't approach a sleeping Nadder. I thought I told you that before?
"I glared at him. And you shouldn't approach me from behind: I thought I had already made that clear?
"He subconsciously rubbed the shoulder where I punched him the last time he surprised me. I smirked in satisfaction before turning back to the hostile Nadder.
"What's wrong with her Hiccup?
"I'm not sure, Hiccup approached her, and the Nadder comfortably let him pet her beak, though she was still looking warily at me. It's almost as if…
"… as if she doesn't recognise me, I finished for him.
"Hiccup frowned, imagining how Astrid's heart must be breaking: the Nadder had bonded with her – Hiccup was sure of that. So for the Nadder to suddenly not recognise her was incredibly puzzling. What's happening? Why was the Nadder suddenly so hostile against her human?
"I… have to go, I mumbled when Hiccup did not speak again. I began to walk backwards, still looking at the Nadder in case it decided to jump and crush me underneath its claws. Hiccup stepped forward, but before he could utter a word I had already run away from them.
"Hiccup turned back to the dragon, noting that her pupils had dilated once more, signalling to him that she was now in a calmer state of mind. He rubbed the skin around her nose horn and sighed. What's wrong, girl? He murmured. Why did you react to Astrid that way? Are you ill?
"The dragon shot him a withering look before she stalked deeper into the woods, ruffling her wings and huffing out a loud snort.
"Hiccup stared after her and rubbed his neck in confusion."
"As the date of the dreaded birthday ball drew nearer, Astrid found herself more and more shut in inside the manor house as she was caught up in a whirlwind of preparations. In the absence of a mother to fuss over her, her governess decided to take charge of the whole thing. Astrid could not understand why such a big fuss was being made over an insignificant birth year, especially since only five or so families were being invited.
"Perhaps it was because the powerful Jorgenson family was also coming.
"Astrid was not looking forward to this at all. She knew that some, if not all, of these families were going to stay over in Warborough Hall days after the party had ended. She had always found that guests somehowalways overstayed their welcome.
"She sighed as she walked down the portrait gallery with her governess on their way to the main foyer. She looked out the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dragon somewhere. Perhaps she had gone back to the coast to fish. Oh, how she wished she was there with her beautiful blue Nadder, swooping through the clouds, diving down to the waves…
"... is a fantastic idea, do you not think so Astrid?
"Astrid jolted back from her daydreams, not knowing what on earth her governess had just said.
"I beg your pardon?
"Her governess sighed. I asked what you thought of the idea of a themed ball, she repeated. Her charge's mind, it seemed, was always in the clouds these days (and she was not very far off the mark).
"I do not understand the need for this theme at all, was Astrid's uncaring response.
"Well, a theme always adds joviality to any party, don't you agree?
"No. I think it's an abhorrent idea. To her irritation her governess decided to push on.
"It was your father's idea, actually. Besides, he thinks it's marvellous -
"If you valued my father's opinion more than mine then why did you bother asking what I thought?
"Mary Sawyer willed herself not to snap at the selfish girl in front of her. It is your birthday ball, Astrid, and -
"Oh yes, that's why this whole ball was being meticulously planned by me.
"If I had not taken over, would you have planned it?
"Of course not! If I had my way, we would not be celebrating this at all!
"Mary Sawyer finally lost her temper. Do you think that this is simply about your birthday? Miss Hofferson! Open your eyes and look about. This is not only about you, this is also about your father. This is about your family. About Warborough Hall and its servants. Believe it or not, but the connections that your father is so desperately trying to forge between yourself and the families are not only to stabilise your future, but the future of so many tied to this family. She paused only to take a breath. You are a Hofferson, Astrid, and you best remember what it means to be born into this family. You may not like it, you may even wish to have been born into a different family, or a different class, but you, just like the rest of us, will need to make the best of your situation. Count yourself fortunate that you have a father who dotes on your wellbeing and the wellbeing of those in his employ, and that you have the safety of the Hofferson fortune should things fall apart. Do not throw it all away for a moment's whim. And please, she pleaded as she grabbed Astrid's shoulders, for the love of everything good, do not throw it all away for a moment's romance. Do not let a blacksmith's apprentice – or, for that matter, any man at all – cloud your judgement for even a minute.
"The governess stepped back to look at her charge severely before she walked away, leaving Astrid speechless and fuming. How dare she? Hiccup and her were just friends! And she was not going throwanything over a moment's - or a lover's whim.
"Astrid was not as foolish as her governess thought she was. She understood perfectly where Miss Sawyer was coming from, though this just made her wish she could run away even more. She had a dragon now, after all. She could just fly away somewhere else where she could no longer be Astrid Hofferson, if she really wanted to. It would break her father's heart, truly, but only for a time, for she knew that there will be another Hofferson heir who could quite easily take her place should she leave… or die.
"She fisted her palm in her frustration and turned to look at her mother's portrait. A mother she had never known, yet in Astrid's secret heart she had always asked her for guidance. And, as always, Bertha's portrait gazed down upon her, the serene smile gracing her lips and keeping her advice to herself.
"Astrid sighed. She was a Hofferson, as her governess so eloquently pointed out. There were certain obligations that came with the name, certain responsibilities that even Astrid knew she could not easily run away from. Certain people she loved so much that she could not just leave them due to her selfish desires.
"She went to look for her governess and found her at the drawing room downstairs a few minutes later. She did not apologise – never, not for this – but she told her that she would very much like to be more involved in the preparations, in order to reconcile with the woman who was only trying to help.
"Because scratch the painted surface and you would have seen something else underneath all the glitter and gold."
"The families started to arrive a couple of days before the actual ball. As Astrid predicted, five families in total sauntered in through the foyer. They were all her father's closest friends, not hers: from the amicable Andersons to the ostentatious Beaumonts, the radical-thinking Woodvilles to the ambitious Byrnes. And finally, to Astrid's dismay, the powerful Jorgensens arrived, their automobiles roaring through the gates and scaring the horses in their stables.
"There were now roughly twenty or so guests residing in Warborough Hall.
"Out of all of these families, Astrid liked the Woodvilles best, mostly because of the way they seemed to rebel against the norm. They believed, for example, that women should have the same rights as men: a rather repulsive thought at the time, but for Astrid it made perfect sense. She liked hearing Mrs Woodville speak to the men as their equal, and vowed that she would be the same once she was of age.
"Astrid, however, liked the Woodville daughter least.
"Miss Heather Woodville, Astrid imagined, would have been the girl that her governess and her father would have wanted her to have been. She was raised as a headstrong child, like Astrid, yet had a calmer disposition. She had the skill to flit in between social worlds. She knew when to flatter a man and when to render a man speechless. She knew how to get her way every time with just one coy smile. She was friendly enough to Astrid, and Astrid likewise to her, but Astrid's jealousy prevented them from being good friends.
"You know, Miss Thorston, fate is a funny thing. For if Astrid only knew that Heather very nearly took her future happiness away from her, she would have liked her even less.
"There was, however, one close friend of her father's that was absent from all this social mayhem. The Haddocks had regretfully written that they would be unable to attend this ball, and to Astrid's surprise her father did not seem to mind much. It was very bizarre indeed to find her father not minding at all.
"And so she decided to ask why.
"Astrid found her father alone in the early dawn, on the morning of the ball, pondering by the lake as he often did most mornings. Her father's eyes brightened at her approach. Astrid! You are up very early today. Too excited to sleep, hmm?
"Er… yes. She drew her shawls closer around her. Father, may I ask you something? Why is Lord Haddock unable to visit?
"Her father smiled down at her. Why? Were you hoping that he would arrive?
"Of course, she automatically responded. He is your most beloved friend, after all.
"Ah. There was a certain twinkle to her father's eyes. No other reason?
"Astrid glanced at him, confused. No, was there supposed to be another reason?
"Her father chuckled. Perhaps not.
"She gave him a dubious glare. Forgive me father, but should you not be sadder that he is not coming? She gestured at his smiling face, and he relented.
"I am quite sad that he is not able to attend, for I have not seen him since we were last in London. But he has asked Gobber to attend on his behalf, and Gobber, I am sure, will brighten up our already very colourful company with his presence. He looked at her shrewdly. Are you sure there was no other reason why you asked for Lord Haddock?
"No, Astrid said blankly, and then realisation dawned on her, and she gave her father a furious look. Father, if you were thinking that I was hoping to see a boy I barely remember, who I have not seen since we were very young, then I'm afraid that you are sorely mistaken.
"You truly do not remember him?
"No! Astrid exclaimed irritably.
"Her father simply gave her a knowing smile and turned back to stare at the lake. Astrid gathered her shawls around her once more and mimicked her father, glaring out into the water. She saw a golden dragon she had seen several times before leap into the air in the distance, its powerful wings beating hard in the crisp, morning air. Her father saw her eyes flick skywards, and wondered what she was looking at.
"He looked up, and suddenly felt a chill run up his spine.
"Astrid, he murmured, What is it that you see?
"She glanced at him quickly. Nothing.
"Is there something that you are not telling me?
"No, father.
"He looked at her critically before he sighed. Well, if there's nothing else, will you go back to the manor and be good host for both of us? Our guests are, no doubt, wondering why the Hoffersons are not joining them for breakfast.
"She groaned. Do I really have to? Can't I just be a terrible host?
"Her father chuckled as he embraced her shoulder. I shall follow you shortly. Chin up, sweet nomad. It is only for a week.
"Astrid returned his embrace and leaned her head against her father. I swear to you I am going to be a terrible lady of the house one day."
"Miss Thorston, are you listening?"
Miss Hofferson's question cut through the fog of her story like a blade. I jerked up, startled out of my half-dreaming state, and looked at her confusedly for a moment.
"What?"
She sighed in exasperation. "You look like you have not slept in weeks. Missus Parsons also tells me that you have not been eating well."
I blinked at her blankly. "What?"
Miss Hofferson glared at me, and I thought back to her question, but could not for the life of me remember what it was. It didn't help that the old fox was right: I have not been sleeping or eating much. Ever since Miss Hofferson arrived back at the manor, just under two weeks ago, my life had revolved around her story so much that I felt myself living and breathing it every moment of my waking life, and thus eating and sleeping became a secondary necessity. The passing of the days were measured not by the ticking of the clock, but by the meals that Missus Parsons prepared for me. Toast or cereal meant it was early morning, soup or a sandwich meant that it was midday, and pie or something hearty meant it was evening.
I glanced up and saw Miss Hofferson looking intently at me. She had asked me something again…
I mentally slapped myself.
What was her question?
She sighed. "Get some sleep, Miss Thorston. We shall continue tomorrow."
"No!" I exclaimed. "I swear I'm fine…"
"You most certainly are not."
"I assure you I am. Please," I pleaded. "Please continue your story?"
Her mouth was set in a thin, stubborn line. "Miss Thorston," she stated. "I require a hundred per cent of your attention when we are having these sessions, and I cannot have this if you have not had the proper amount of sleep." She rang the bell next to her. "Sleep tonight, and we shall continue the tale tomorrow."
I scowled at her, but her nurse had already arrived, and so I had no choice but to do as she bade. I stalked my way back to my bedroom in a foul mood, heartily wishing I could break something.
I looked around, and found a tray of steak and kidney pie upon my writing desk. Perhaps I could eat my dinner and smash the plate to make me feel better.
Yeah, that sounded good.
I wanted to act like an immature little brat so badly, even just for tonight.
However, just as I reached for my dinner, I found an envelope wedged in between the plate and the glass of water. I grabbed it excitedly, thinking quite irrationally that it was from my brother, but the postal stamp confused me. Why would he be writing to me from Scotland? I quickly opened the letter and recognised Fishleg's hasty scrawl.
Fishlegs? Wait… Fishlegs! Scotland!
The Haddocks.
I sat on the bed and read his letter eagerly as I scarfed down my dinner.
"In Scotland right now," he wrote. "Only here for a short time to do a seminar for the University but I thought I'd do some digging around while I'm here and… oh god. Are you trying to unearth the greatest mystery in the literary community? That is: Who Astrid Hofferson is, and with whom she fell in love with? If so: don't you worry Ruff – my lips are sealed.
"I went to Chisholm House this morning – family home of the Haddocks. The current surviving Haddock was not in residence, but I still got to tour around the place. Massive place – it shouldn't even be called a house. It's more like… a mansion. Anyway, your request to look for a dragons connection was bizarre, and it confused me, to say the least. I was not sure why you had asked it, but then I understood why once I arrived at the house.
"Dragons. Everywhere. The family seemed to be obsessed with it. The building has ornaments of it everywhere – even their coat of arms has it. You'd think they'd go for a fish to tie it back to the 'Haddock' family name, but no. It's dragons. I wonder if there's a St George connection to this family too.
"The son - you were rather interested in him, perhaps because he was also a rather interesting fellow. Liked inventing things, very skilful - everybody described him as being skinny as a beanpole. Not like his father at all. His name was Harailt – named after his great grandfather. And then, his second name was Eachann, in honour of his ancestor Eachann, the last chief of Clan Haddock in the 17th Century.
"Er… I suppose I won't bore you with the origins of the rest of his names.
"Oh, and listen to this Ruff: He got married, but unfortunately not to your companion there in Warborough Hall. The woman he married was something of a mystery – she was always seen wearing a shroud of cloth over her face wherever she went, so only a handful of people actually knew her identity. Everybody else was kept in the dark: All they knew was that she was a high-born lady. Though there was one time when a strong wind blew, and the black cloth lifted enough for a maidservant to glimpse the face that was concealed underneath, and the maid maintained to all who would listen that the lady was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, with the clearest of eyes and the fairest of skin and the most delicate of faces.
"The lady soon came to be known to all as the Dark Countess.
"She was said to have only spoken French, and she would often disappear for days, weeks, even months at a time. She and Harailt had a son, and the lady who gave the tour of the house said that the couple loved each other very dearly.
"That's all they could tell me about the previous Haddock generation. And, as with mysteries and family secrets, the older it got, the more corrupted the story became. Who knows now what is true and what is not?
"You've reeled me into this intrigue, Ruff. Just so you know. I'm hooked into solving this mystery. I will let you know when I find out more.
"Fishlegs."
I lay down on the bed, Fishleg's letter still in my hands, and thought.
I was no longer interested in the Haddocks, for the Haddock connection, at this point in the story, was no longer important. Though, like Fishlegs, I was rather intrigued by the other mystery of the French-speaking Dark Countess. I decided to pursue her story after I had finished with Astrid's, since she was obviously connected with Miss Hofferson in some way.
And the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that the Haddock connection was not quite the dead end that I initially thought it was. Fishlegs mentioned the Haddocks were obsessed with dragon iconology. Now Hiccup the blacksmith's apprentice worked for the Haddock family, and Miss Hofferson made it clear that he came from a dragon training family. Perhaps the Haddocks employed him not only for his blacksmithing skills, but also for his vast knowledge on dragons…
I shook my head to stay awake, the fatigue of two weeks of sleepless nights finally settling in my bones. Now that I was lying on my bed, the call of sleep was far too strong for me to resist. I sighed and stood up to brush my teeth, lock my bedroom door, and turn off the lights.
When my head hit my pillow, I could not help but hope for the romance between Astrid and Hiccup to blossom, being the sad old sap that I was, especially now that the potential Haddock suitor established early in her tale was out of the way. Perhaps this was a story of unrequited love – the lady of the house and the blacksmith's apprentice would never have been allowed to marry each other.
My eyes slowly closed. Or perhaps they did? Did Astrid elope with Hiccup? Was this why she refused to tell her life's story to the media and other biographers in the past? Because of an age-old scandal?
I soon fell into a long and fitful sleep. I dreamt of Astrid and Hiccup, Harailt and the Dark Countess, and dragons and all the other ghostly possibilities of the tale. I woke up the following morning a little tired, my brain dancing with unanswered questions. Questions that needed to be written down and which only Miss Hofferson could answer.
I crawled out of my bed and sleepily walked to my writing desk. However, all the drowsiness in my brain lifted when I saw tarot card lying on top of my notebook which I was positive was not there when I hit the hay last night.
"What the hell?" I muttered as I picked up the card, the gold foil peeling off the intricate illustrations that depicted the meaning of this particular tarot.
My god. It can't be.
I whirled around and checked my door, and found that it was still locked from inside. I felt the blood drain away from my face when I realised that the Ghost had paid me a visit last night while I was in the deepest of slumbers.
I looked down and ran a thumb over the illustration. I wondered why the Ghost left me this card. I wondered what it all meant.
It was the Wheel of Fortune.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
And that concludes the Destiny Arc. Do you think Hiccup and Harailt are one and the same person? If not, who do you think Harailt was? And who is the Dark Countess (which is a character I based on the real life mystery of the Dark Countess during the French Revolution)? Let me know - I'd love to hear your theories!
And I'm really sorry for the long wait for this chapter. The first chapter for the next arc is already 90% done so I should have it up by the end of the week =)
Thank you all so much for reading, and for the faves and the follows!
Ferdoos: Fear not. You shall find out very soon:)
LizzyLory: Haha yay to hyperness! Why yes, Hiccup has a secret, and he shall reveal it very soon!
Guest 1: Thanks :) Warborough Hall is a mix of Chatsworth House and Hopetoun House – though smaller in size but the general aesthetics and inspiration for the parklands are the same. Glad you picked that up!
hpnarutardsjedipirate1234: Thanks! So what did you think of the letter? :)
Guest 2: Aww gosh thanks! 3
Cat Eyed Blunder: Haha sorry about the giddy Hiccstrid feels. It will happen again… in the next chapter. Sorry :D
Tyra: Thanks! I hope the pacing is alright with the Hiccup/Astrid relationship. I'm always worried that it's either too quick, or it's dragging on too much =_=
Josy Daky: Omg thank you so much for your reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so far. Thank you thank you thank you, your reviews made me so happy! I hope you enjoyed this chapter too :)
NEXT CHAPTER: In which the ball finally happens.