A/N – Hello! Thanks for reading – I appreciate it! I'm glad to know that this story is enjoyed. I spent a little while today working out the plot, and before you ask, I've got a few varying plotlines. I'll keep writing it out and see where it goes. But don't worry, I've got an endgame in mind.
Also, if there are any artists among the readers that feel up to creating a cover imagine for this story, feel free to PM me. WyvernsWeaver made me a cover for Prince Hiccup – go check it out. It's amazing! (Thanks a ton!)
X
Chapter 4: Mind Your Tongue
She stormed about the house in such a fever that he had never seen. Her graceful hands that tamed beasts flew through the kitchen, replacing herb jars and ground powders, with a cold, silent fury that shook his heart.
"I can't believe you would do such a thing, Hiccup," she mumbled under her breath. She turned suddenly, her brow together and her glare sharpened. "You should never make contact. They would kill you outright."
"I know, I know," he stammered, pushing dirt around on the stone floor by the hearth. "I-I didn't mean to. It was-"
"An accident. Yes, you said so." She sighed through her nose and shoved the last herbal jar back into the wooden cabinet and slammed. "The whole of Berk could be scouring the woods for us right now. You have no idea what danger you've but both of us into, not to mention the dragons."
Hiccup had heard this speech several times, but never with such an anger. "You'd rather me let her die out there?"
His mother huffed. "That girl will bring nothing but trouble. Just you watch."
It was his turn to huff. He crossed his arms.
"What did you say to her?" She spoke with such an accusation that he felt like shouting back, but he held his tongue.
"Nothing, I-I didn't say anything." The fire crackled in the other room. A dragon walked above ground, its feet thumping on the other side of the stone ceiling, a gronkle by the sound.
"Likely," she said. "That is why when something happened to her mother she came looking for you."
He shrugged. "Really, Mom, I don't know."
She stared him down for a few long moments. Her breath came and went, slower with each one, and at last she broke the stare and shook her head. "Hiccup, I have told you countless times to stay away from the village."
"I know," Hiccup pleaded. "I wasn't near the village. She was on the pass and I heard Yellow cry and that's when I saw her."
"And she saw you?" she added.
"Yes," Hiccup nodded. "But I didn't say anything, I promise."
"Fine," she sighed. "If we are lucky she won't remember anything. She hit her head hard and reacted well with my sleeping tea. But, just in case, keep your head down and stay away from the pass, and the village."
"Yes, Mother." Hiccup waited to make sure the speech was finished before walking into the hearth room. He sat down beside the warm fire, on the makeshift bed that the girl had slept in. He hadn't been allowed in the room while she had been there, only his mother. But he didn't have to be in the room to hear the girl talk in her sleep, pleading.
"Hiccup," his mother said from the doorway, leaning against the uneven stone. Her tone had softened considerably in the past few moments.
"Did she really think that I cursed her mother? Because we saw each other that day?" Hiccup fingered the edge of a fraying blanket as he spoke. The girl had curled up in it and held onto with tight fists.
"The Vikings are suspicious and narrow minded," she said, as she had said many times on the subject. "They see only what they want, nothing else."
Hiccup looked at his mother. Her eyes were lost in the flickering fire. Distant thoughts had clouded her face, softening the edges and smoothing the finer lines.
"Mom," Hiccup said softly. "You lived in the village, right?"
Her stare didn't falter. "Yes, but that was a long time ago. I was never welcome, even then."
"Why not?" Hiccup asked, thirsty for the details of a life he wouldn't know.
"I was not afraid of the dragons as they thought I should be," she said quietly, a dark, bitter triumph ebbed her words. She blinked and looked at her son. "Don't ask me anymore about it. I wasn't welcome them and I most certainly wouldn't be welcome now."
With every word her voice shook until she bit her lip to end the quivering. Hiccup sat on the bed while she stomped from the room.
"You're grounded," she called back. "I mean it this time! No flying! No leaving this house without permission!"
Hiccup sighed and leaned back against the wall. Toothless wouldn't like that at all.
X
Astrid woke to a kind hand on her shoulder. Her mother stood over her, a smile on her chapped lips. Astrid's dream of masks and shadows vanished with the daylight.
"Get up, Astrid," Ingrid urged. An extra shawl draped her shoulders. "Stoick is downstairs, and so is someone else who'd very eager to see you."
Astrid rolled onto her back and the dull headache set in. She put a hand to her head and the blurred events of the previous evening came back. She set up with a groan.
"Come, I've already made breakfast." Ingrid gave her daughter's shoulder another shake. She spoke with a giddiness Astrid rarely heard.
"What's going on?" Astrid asked, head in her hand.
Ingrid smiled and a sheen lined her eyes. "Your father got in last night."
Astrid sat up, never mind the pain. "What? He's here?"
"Yes, come downstairs!" Ingrid motioned. "He surprised me last night. I thought someone had broken into our house. Oh! He stood over the bed and I had a terrible feeling until I saw that it was him. I wanted to hit him and hug him at the same time."
Ingrid ran back down stairs and Astrid heard the familiar grumble of her father's voice. She shoved her feet into her boots and raced down the stairs without fixing her hair. The hearth fire burned brightly and her father sat at the table across from Stoick. Their lively conversation died as Astrid neared the bottom of the stairs.
"There is my baby girl," Harald Hofferson beamed. He stood up and held his arms wide as his daughter flung herself into them. "You're getting so big! Look at you! Soon you'll be as tall as your mother."
Astrid smiled as her father's large hand rested on top of her head. He looked the same as he had before, like he'd slept in a barn and forgotten to comb his hair. It fell down his shoulders in tight tangles that he tied together with string. New lines stretched across his cheeks as he smiled, but his eyes were the same blue.
"Why didn't you wake me up when you got home?" Astrid asked.
"I would still be here in the morning," Harald patted her head. "And I needed my sleep, and as I've been hearing, so did you." His smile straightened and a frown took its place. His hands fell to her shoulders. "What is all this I've been hearing about you and the Blood Tree Pass?"
Astrid swallowed. Ingrid looked at her from beside the hearth where eggs sizzled. Stoick stared from the table.
"Come sit," Stoick said. He patted the surface of the table. "Eat something. Your mother worked hard for this breakfast."
"Yes, she did," Harald agreed. His strong hands squeezed her shoulders and ushered her to the chair across from Stoick.
Ingrid quickly placed a mug of steaming tea and a plate of eggs and mutton in front of her. Like all of her cooking, it smelled delicious.
Harald sat in the chair beside her. "Eat, dear. You look thin."
It was not a suggestion, but a command. She did, and hadn't brought the first forkful to her lips before Stoick and Harald began to speak.
"Stoick here told me of your adventure down the pass, both of them," Harald said darkly. "I didn't believe him at first. I said that my daughter wouldn't have openly disobeyed the chief like that. She knew better. She is too smart to do such a careless, dangerously thing. But here, my own wife told me it's true. My sweet, smart girl went wandering down the pass not once, but twice."
The mutton turned in her mouth and refused to be swallowed. A strong hand lingered on her back.
"Astrid, why did you do it?" Harald asked. "Tell me honestly."
She swallowed several times to force the chewed mutton down. "I thought they cursed Mom."
"Ah," Harald said. "I see. I can understand that. I would face down witches for your mother, too. But, who do you think cursed her?"
Astrid swallowed a large gulp of tea.
"Astrid," Stoick asked. "Did you see someone that first time?"
She bit the inside of her lip. "Yes. I saw someone, but I-I didn't stay. I ran when I saw him."
Harald and Stoick exchanged a dark look.
"Him?" Harald asked. "The witch is a man?"
"I'm not sure," Astrid said. Her father's hand twitched between her shoulder blades.
"And it was him you went back to see?" Harald asked, bitterly.
"Yes." Astrid nodded. Her mouth went dry as she continued, "I went back to ask if they would take me instead of Mom." She heard her father's low exhale.
"Then what happened?" Harald asked.
"I saw him, but he ran away. I chased him. I fell, I think, and everything after that is blurry." Astrid poked at her eggs with the fork. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry.
"You couldn't have been lying in the woods for three days," Harald said sternly. "You would have frozen to death."
"I wasn't outside," Astrid said, straining to remember that strange dream. "I was inside, I think, in a house of some kind. There was a fire and someone leaning over me, and…a hand on my face."
Stoick's fists tightened on the table and her mother gasped. Harald gripped her arm and yanked her attention away from her plate. His gaze bore into hers with the ferocity that had terrified her as a child. "The witch took you?"
"You saw him?" Stoick asked. "What did he look like?"
"I don't know," Astrid stammered, feeling quite small between her father and Stoick's heated stares. "He wore a mask."
"You must have seen something," Harald said, gripping her arm tighter.
"He was tall," Astrid said. His grip loosened only slightly. "He wasn't very big. He was thin, like the trees. And…"
"And what?" Harald said.
"He had green eyes," Astrid said, remembering them vividly. Her father's hand let go of her arm and she took a large drink of the tea. Memories came back in small bits and pieces. "I drank tea. It was warm and bitter…but it's all a blur. I remember being tired."
Stoick's gaze softened. His brow had risen with surprise and something squeezed in Astrid's chest. Stoick's eyes were undoubtedly familiar, but before that thought could plant itself in her mind Harald grumbled something under his breath, something that sounded like a word he used but she was not allowed to.
"What does this mean, Stoick?" Harald asked the chief.
"I don't know," Stoick shook his head. "But whatever it is, I don't like it."
"Neither do I," Harald stood up and paced by the fire. He spoke to Stoick, "Thor only knows what happened while she was out of it. Why not kill her and be done? Why would they let her live unless they wanted her to live? They kept her alive and kept her asleep to hide something from her, from us."
"You think they had a reason to let her live?" Stoick asked, hand on his chin.
"Why else wouldn't they have killed her on the spot? Why else would the witch have taken her into his home? Why else would they have let her go unless they had other plans?" Harald spoke to Stoick, but pointed at Astrid.
Ingrid held the wooden spoon to her chest. "Harald, what are you saying?"
He looked mournfully at his wife and then at his daughter. "I don't like Astrid being in the care of a witch. She could be cursed, or tainted, or whatever else they can do."
"No, I'm fine," Astrid protested. The words he spoke were not directed to her, but at her, like she no longer existed. It dropped a weight of stones into her stomach.
"I don't care how you feel, Astrid," Harald thundered. His glare lingered and she felt small. He turned to Stoick. "I want her under constant watch until we can safely assume they didn't harm her."
"No!" Ingrid shouted. "Please, Harald, don't care her away from me."
"I won't," Harald said kindly to her. "If the village knew she would be torn from us before we could do anything. This can't be known to anyone else."
"Agreed," Stoick nodded.
"One of us need to keep an eye on Astrid," Harald said. "She will stay in her room. She's gotten her mother's sickness and won't be of any use for a while."
Ingrid paled and her hands shook. Astrid stood up. "No, I'm fine! He didn't curse me."
"Astrid, don't argue with me," Harald said with a dangerous growl under his breath. He gestured toward her stomach "You have no idea what that monster could have done to you. You could be carrying his seed for all we know."
"No, she's only a child," Ingrid tried to reason.
"She's been a woman for nearly a year now, regardless of her age." Harald sighed deeply and turned to face his daughter. A darkness loomed over his stare and Astrid wanted nothing more than to run from the house and pretend this morning never happened. "It would be safe to give her some of that tea of yours, Ingrid."
"Yes, dear," Ingrid said. She turned to the cabinets and her hands shook as she searched for the special tin of tea.
The house turned sideways and Astrid felt it slipping away. That couldn't have just happened. Her father would never accuse her of such a thing. Her father hands lifted her to her feet and up the stairs. Dazed, she did not fight when his hand pushed her into her dark bedroom and closed the door behind her. Something heavy slid on the other side and she snapped back to attention.
"Wait!" Astrid said, banging her fists on the wood, but it didn't budge. The sliver of light underneath vanished. "Don't do this! Dad!"
"It's for your own good, baby girl." Harald's footsteps thundered on the stairs and his voice became too low for her to hear, but her mother's sobs echoed upstairs.
