A/N – I know a male witch is called a warlock but there is something about that word that I can't stand. It's a weird thing…like "moist" … some words I hate. I know this is an AU, but "warlock" gives it an extra flavor that I don't like. It's like too candy-Halloween for me. Does that make sense?

I'm sorry about the long wait for this update. This past month has kept me busy. Luckily, I already unloaded on my journal today so you don't have to hear me whine about it.

Onward!

X

Chapter 7: When You're Not Looking

Astrid snuck back into the village without a hitch. In a twist of luck, the sentries left a sizable gap between them. It was only after she reached her house and hoisted herself up the wall to the window that she thought of what else could have slipped past the sentries. That thought quickly dissolved, however, at the sight of someone else in her room.

"Where were you?" Ingrid asked coldly from her seat on the bed, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. She narrowed her eyes as Astrid brought her legs over the sill.

"Nowhere, I just-" Astrid started to explain, but before she could think of an excuse her mother cut her off.

"You went to the pass, didn't you?" Ingrid whispered angrily. She pointed a shaking finger at Astrid. Her whisper seared through the cold air. "If your father knew, or even suspected, you would both be in trouble."

"Mom, it's not like that, I-"

"Don't give me excuses, Astrid Hofferson," Ingrid spat. She shook her head. "I won't tell your father. But you will tell me why you left. Why go back? Answer me, young lady, now, before I change my mind and turn you over to the council. You're lucky none of them saw you…there would be no excusing yourself from that."

"I needed to get out of the house," Astrid said. She knew it would do no good to lie to her mother now. "I needed to talk to…the witch."

Ingrid snapped, taking a rushed step toward her daughter. Her voice turned to icy venom. "You spoke to him? What did he say?"

"He didn't speak," Astrid said. Her mother's glare settled somewhere in her chest. "I had to know what happened. I asked him if he did anything to me that night and he shook his head."

"Dear Thor, Astrid," Ingrid rubbed her temples.

"Did you know he's got human hands?" Astrid said, half astonished at the memory. She looked down at her own moonlit flesh. She could still feel his rough hand in hers. "I saw them."

Ingrid grumbled under her breath as she paced between the door and the bed. "You are asking for trouble. No wonder the dragons attacked."

"What?" Astrid asked, insulted that her mother would think that.

"Well, what am I supposed to think?" Ingrid turned on her heel and threw her hands out at her daughter. "Thor only knows what's lurking in your stomach…or your blood."

Astrid couldn't find the words to defend herself, not against her own mother. Ingrid had always been the source of sympathy in the house. A safeguard. The cornerstone. To hear such accusations coming from her felt worse than anything her father could shout or claim. Ingrid shook her head and left Astrid alone in her room, more alone than she'd been before.

Astrid sunk onto her bed. Her parents had both turned on her. Stoick didn't trust her. If anyone else knew, she would be cast out, or killed on the spot, or whatever else they would think of in a panic. Her axe rested beside the door, a silent protector. Astrid kept her eyes on it as an uneasy sleep slowly passed over her.

X

The next morning, Astrid gripped her axe tight as she headed downstairs to greet her parents. The blood had come as her stomach had predicted. Her mother's relative distance eased, but Astrid put it from her mind. Harald made little notice, as if she lied, as if it made no difference.

"I've canceled my spring trip," Harald announced at breakfast.

"Why?" Astrid asked. It would be rude to think that she looked forward to him leaving. But she did.

Harald inhaled, eyes focused on the closed window. "I've spent enough time out there. I want to stay home and watch over my family."

The spite in which he spoke stung. Astrid knew, without a doubt, her mother had told him of the night before. She glanced at Ingrid who stood at the stove, stirring absently. Her eyes stared into the hearth fire without blinking.

"That's kind of you," Astrid said through a tense jaw.

Harald met her gaze. "My family is more important. You might have made a pact with those witches, Astrid, even unintentionally. They might try something. I will be here to make sure they don't."

Astrid clenched the words between her teeth and forced them back down her throat. She ate without a word and left for training. She put all her energy into besting the others, which came as an easy feat. The only obstacles were the dragons. After training she refused to go home. She took her axe and went to the woods instead, and trained alone. She returned well after nightfall and ate the few leftovers from dinner, and passed silently into her room.

Days passed like this, with her gone from sunup to sundown, minimalizing contact with her parents. She spent all of her energy in training, in besting the others. The dragons' intimidation still shook the others, and hers, but not as much. While large and mean, they were predictable. The Gronkle was tough, but slow and couldn't turn quick enough to catch her. The Deadly Nadder on the other hand was quick and sharp, sending multiple barbs into Astrid's shield. The Hideous Zippleback was trickier, but not much smarter than the twins.

The Terrible Terror had stumped her, but only for a moment. It held a shocking resemblance to the little yellow monster she had seen that first day on the pass, that little monster who'd been shot down over a loaf of bread. But it didn't matter. Astrid had to be the best. She memorized the dragon book, page by page, and archived Gobber's quick-thrown advice in the ring.

Each evening Astrid spent in the woods. She worked until her muscles ached and whined. She ignored the pain. To build herself up she had to tear herself down. Tree after tree met their demise at the sharp end of her well-used axe, after a satisfying thunk.

Astrid watched the handle leave her hand and sink into the bark and yet another wooden enemy. She took a small moment to gather her breath. The sun had since touched the western horizon, leaving the clear sky streaked with pinks and purples. The east had darkened, spotted with the first stars. She'd gone father into the woods that she'd intended. The village lights barely poked through the forest. Behind her, the seemingly endless words dipped into wide shadows.

The hunters had already searched here, and no sign of the witch or his beasts had been found. But he was out there, somewhere. Lurking beyond the hunters' eyes. Astrid took a step toward her axe, but paused. Did she want the witch to be found? Her chest tightened at the idea of him being drug into the village and strung up, or beaten into a bloody mess. It hurt to think about. Astrid gripped her hand around the handle. She didn't want him to be found.

As if conjured at her thoughts, shadows began to roll just beyond her sight. They passed before and behind the trees, too close but too far to see, and among them a familiar mask dotted between. Astrid froze at the sight of the shadows. The mask stepped closer to her, but did not see her at first. Astrid dared not move with those beasts so close. What would happen?

The mask turned, seemingly looking about, but when his gaze settled suddenly on Astrid, she felt the tight hand around her chest drop into her stomach. A shadow lurched behind him and Astrid felt the first pangs of panic. The witch moved; he held up a pale hand in the twilight and the shadow rolled back into the darkness.

Astrid held her breath. What had he just done? He could control the dragons.

The witch took a step toward her and the beasts did not follow. She didn't move, and soon he stood in front of her. He raised a hand and pointed a raged fingernail to her arm. Astrid looked down; scraps crisscrossed her arms. Twigs snagged and scraggly branches liked to touch.

"I'm training," Astrid explained. She yanked her axe out of the tree. Yellowed splinters shot out with it, falling to the ground and leaving a fresh wood-wound. "I want to be the best. Of course, I kind of already am."

The witch's eyes shifted to the axe in her hands, then to the tree.

"It's what we do," Astrid said. "We're training to protect to the village from the dragons."

He looked back at her with a suddenness that made her tighten her fingers on the axe.

She added, "And to fight in general. I want to protect the village as much from the dragons as I do pirates or Outcasts."

He said nothing, only kept looking at her. Those green eyes were wild, but curious and intelligent. He lifted a hand and pointed upward to the sky, where the twilight faded.

"I know it's late," Astrid said, hoping she understood him right. "I couldn't just go home today."

He blinked, titling his head slightly.

Astrid sighed and dropped her shoulders. No one else would listen, but this witch didn't speak. He spoke to no one else. What harm would it be? The words started to fall out and she couldn't stop them. "It's my father. He's driving me crazy with his constant suspicions. I thought my mother would be on my side. But she just…turned on me. I couldn't take it. I don't want to see them anymore if they're going to treat me like some criminal or something."

Astrid let her anger explode. She swung the axe into the tree, sending it deeper than she'd thought herself capable. The witch took several steps back, nearly fumbling over the brambles.

Astrid let go of the axe and reached out to him, pausing her hand in midair. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. It's mine, I guess, if it's anyone's." Astrid took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm sure it'll all pass. Besides, once I win the training competition, they won't be able to look at me like that anymore."

He titled his head again.

"Oh, we started a competition," Astrid explained as she tried to yank her axe free. "The winner gets to kill their first dragon in front of the entire village."

He made a sound then, a shocked, surprised, and disgusted grunt. Astrid stopped her yanking and stared at him. He'd thrown his arms out and let them crash against his sides. She half-expected his wild, hoarse voice to follow, but nothing came. Those green eyes had narrowed at her in anger.

She closed her hands around the axe, wishing that it would come free. Would he attack her? She didn't want to hurt him, but she wouldn't hesitate to defend herself.

He sighed. His sharp outtake of breath hit the other side of the mask in a muffled gust. He turned, not minding as his cloak snagged on a bush, and vanished into the darkness. Astrid stood for a moment, watching where'd he gone. She had a terrible feeling that she had done something wrong.

X

The morning came with winter's silence. Astrid rolled out of bed and stretched her stiff limbs. She grabbed her axe and headed for the stairs. She'd need to stop by the smithy after training, and hopefully Gobber won't ask too many questions about why her axe had gotten dull so quickly.

Astrid and the others made it to the arena through the light snowfall. This time, Gobber didn't meet them at the gate. No one did. The frigid air had gone silent.

Astrid stopped and extended her arm to keep the others behind. "Do you hear that?"

"No," Snotlout said after a pause.

"Exactly," Astrid whispered, pointing down into the arena.

Fishlegs trembled. "What does that mean?"

Astrid gripped her axe and tiptoed down into the arena. Gobber stood in front of the Monstrous Nightmare's pen, scratching his head. Astrid halted, heart lobbed in her throat. Every pen stood open and empty.

"Gobber? What happened?" Fishlegs squeaked, looking around the arena like the dragons might swoop down at any time.

Gobber turned around and shrugged. "Thor's left foot if I know. I got here this morning and the dragons were gone."

Snotlout dropped his maul, barely missing his foot. "What do you mean they're gone? Aren't those doors supposed to be dragon proof?"

Gobber shook his head darkly. "They are. You all head home, I've got to explain to the chief how five caged dragons vanished when I wasn't looking. Should be fun."

X

Stoick wasn't pleased. At first he stood as flabbergasted as Gobber had, looking into the empty, charred cage with wide, confused eyes. Then his confusion heated into anger.

"How could those beasts escape?" Stoick roared.

"Beats me, chief," Gobber shrugged. "Those iron bars should have prevented them from melting the doors. They didn't have enough room to do much else without hurting themselves."

Rumors and whispers waved through the crowd of onlookers that had followed Stoick to the arena, after hearing that the dragons had vanished. Astrid stood among them, along with her father, who she kept her distance from. Everyone wanted to see for themselves, to listen to what the chief said about it, and discover how those mindless monsters could get out. The arena had always been safe, but not now.

"That's just the thing, Stoick," Gobber said, pointing to the inside of the door he had designed himself. "There's nothing to suggest they broke out. The doors are all working fine. Nothing's bent or burned."

"Then tell me," Stoick said through gritted teeth. "How did they escape on their own?"

Gobber's expression turned dark. "They couldn't have."

Whispered zipped through the crowd, many repeating the same question that Stoick had posed.

"Someone had to undo the locks," Gobber said. "Those dragons didn't go on their own. Someone let them out."

The whispers turned frightful. Astrid didn't join the others as they chattered of the missing dragons. She didn't need to turn over rumors. She knew who'd done it. Those angry green eyes flashed in her mind and a rock fell into her stomach.

"It was the witch," someone in the crowd cried.

The crowd cried along with him, tearing through their worries.

"Enough!" Stoick shouted. The silence died at once. His fiery eyes found Astrid, and she held herself steady. Did he think the same as them? He held up his massive hands. "Regardless of who is at fault, we will scour the woods. Those beasts might be lurking. All capable men will go with me into the woods. Gobber, these cages were too weak. They need to be stronger and heavier."

"Yes, chief!" Gobber said as he turned to the doors, limping over to the nearest one.

Men and woman shouted for blood as they followed Stoick toward the forest. Astrid and the others stayed behind in the arena. The war party vanished through the trees, and Astrid wanted to crawl back into bed that morning and pretend this hadn't happened. Had the witch come in the night to free the dragons? Why? Was it because of what she said?

"Well," Gobber announced once the commotion died down. "I suppose training is postponed. I mean, can't train to fight dragons without any dragons can we?"

"Good, I want to go hunt some witches," Snotlout said, maul in hand.

"Oh, no you don't," Gobber said, grabbing him by the helmet. "You're not old enough to fight a dragon and you're not going into those woods to find their masters."

Snotlout pouted.

"Besides, I need some strong backs to help me fix these doors," Gobber laughed. "Am I supposed to carry all my tools up here by myself? That would take weeks."

Astrid waited until Gobber turned to examine a door before she headed for the forest. She didn't listen to hear if he called after her or if anyone saw. She had to reach the witch before anyone else did.