A/N – Thanks for being awesome, really. I'm really happy that you all are enjoying this story as much as you are. (Virtual thumbs-up)

X

Chapter 10: Window

Astrid held the warm cup in both hands, watching the steam rising into the air. Firelight flickered, dancing wildly every time the doors to the Great Hall opened. Someone had laid another blanket around her shoulders. Who, she wasn't entirely sure. She stopped paying attention some time ago.

"Outrageous," Harald muttered, pacing back and forth. Ingrid had given up trying to speak to him, letting him walk and grumble.

The doors opened, and Harald paused, looking expectantly toward whoever came in.

"Well?" Harald asked.

"Stoick thinks the worst is over," Hoark said. He pointed behind him with his sword. "The dragons have retreated to the forest."

"Any sign of him?"

"None, he's gone with the beasts."

Astrid's chest ached. She couldn't bring herself to drink the tea. She set it on the floor by her feet and buried her head in her arms.

"Harald, is your family alright?" Stoick called out.

"Yes," Harald answered. "We're fine."

Astrid bit her tongue. She knew that tone.

"Good," Stoick said, coming closer, heavy footsteps on the stone.

"Stoick," Harald said lowly. "You saw what happened. That beast singled us out."

"Yes, I did," Stoick said, his tone a low roar, a warning.

"That…dragon-demon of a monster set it on us," Harald whispered, a deathly twist in his accusation.

No, Astrid wanted to argue. He wouldn't have…he couldn't have. Not him. But she kept her head in her arms. She knew what face Stoick would have, the angry suspicious he'd look at her with. It was the same her father had used all night, like it was her fault.

"You think that dragon attacked us because of her?" Ingrid said so small that Astrid barely heard her.

The silence that followed confirmed the answer. They did.

Astrid gripped the blanket. He said she didn't have to be afraid of him. He said so. He said. Tears welled behind her eyes and she forced them back. Even with her face hidden, she wouldn't cry. She felt like it, but she wouldn't.

Villagers came into the Great Hall, weary, worn, and a little singed, all whispering and looking their way. The fire might have gone out, but the village still buzzed.

"Did you see him?"

"What was he?"

"What does this mean?"

"He rode a Night Fury!"

"…the offspring of lightning and death…"

"What does that make him?"

"Inhuman, I say, a monster worse than the dragons, worse than a Night Fury."

Astrid wanted to shout at them, call them liars and fools. He wouldn't have…he isn't a monster.

She never saw his face. Maybe he was a monster underneath it. Maybe that's why he hides his face. But…those eyes. His hands. It didn't seem possible. She didn't want it to be possible. But she had seen him riding that dragon, too. It had been him. No mistake.

"He set that dragon on Hofferson's."

"What do you think that means?"

"Did he want to kill them?"

"Harald was big for the witch hunt."

"How would the witch know that?"

"They can hear us?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. He can ride a dragon, a Night Fury of all, there's no end to the devil he can do."

"Maybe we should leave Berk. Find somewhere less horrible to live."

"Absolutely not. This is our home. We stay. We fight. We either get to keep it, or we die defending it."

Astrid stayed where she was until two massive feet stood in front of her. She looked up to see Stoick, weary face reflecting the rough day, dark circles and singed bits of beard. He scooted a chair up and sat down across from her.

"What a day you've had, lass."

"Yeah," Astrid nodded. "Stoick, I didn't-"

"I know you didn't mean for anything like this to happen," Stoick interrupted, his tone soft and exhausted. "But it has, and there's nothing we can do about it now. That…man set a dragon on your house, he fought against us. He is an enemy of Berk. He must be stopped."

Astrid bit her lip, then let it go. Not in front of the chief.

"I know you have had a rough day, and tonight won't be much better. But this…dragon master has changed the stakes. Tell me, lass, what do you know about him?" Stoick leaned forward, hands on his knees, fingers laced together.

"I-I don't know anything other than he lives in the woods," Astrid said quietly.

"Where?"

"I don't know,"

"You've met him."

"He finds me."

Stoick sighed, eyes unblinking. He stood up. "Astrid, I can only ask that you stay away from the woods until things calm down. It's too dangerous. If this is the result of your gallivanting…fraternizing with that demon-man, I won't know what to do with you. If the village should hear rumors of it, they'll have you burned at the stake faster than that Night Fury could fly."

Astrid was not immune to his icy stare, or the frigid venom in his tone. She kept still until he walked away, and again buried her head in her knees, letting the sobs fall into the wool.

X

The frame of the house went up slowly. Astrid stood back as Vikings lifted a new roof, fitting a new floor, and carved new stairs. A loss of a house had happened before in Berk, many times, but this felt different. Astrid had swept the ashes herself, the powdered remains of her home, and watched them vanished.

A week and a half is how long it took for a new house to replace the old one. The door looked the same, only newer. The stairs lacked the notch she made one night while swinging her axe. The lines her mother had made beside her bedroom door marking the absent days of her father were gone, replaced by a smooth wooden board. Her new bed didn't fit her right and the blanket was stiff. The beam above her bed held no knot, only fresh wood.

It smelled like sawdust and ash, not like her mother's cooking. Astrid rolled onto her side, but sleep felt as far away on this side as it did on the other. She closed her eyes and tried to find comfort in her new pillow. This new house creaked differently. She gave little thought to the gentle wooden creaks until she felt something's weight on the bed.

She snapped into a sitting position, ready to attack, but her breath left her throat and gave her heart a moment of silence. He sat on the side of the bed in his dark leathers and mask, hands up and exposed.

"What are you doing here?" Astrid asked quietly.

He gestured to the house.

"Yes, it burnt down. You were there."

He pointed to her.

"I'm fine," Astrid shrugged.

He tilted his head. Behind that mask those green eyes worried. They were not the eyes of a vengeful monster.

"It's just…why?" Astrid pleaded.

He shrugged, confused.

"Did you…tell the dragon to do that?"

He shook his head, eyes wide. He pointed to himself, and them reached out to touch her arm. Calloused fingers gentle rubbed a small bruise.

"I was too busy worrying about getting out of the house that I tripped over the stairs. I'll be okay."

He didn't let go of her arm.

"You didn't make the dragons attack?" Astrid asked.

He shook his head. He blinked, frustration flickered.

"This would be easier if you would talk to me," Astrid said, but he shook his head, looking down to the floor. "If someone catches you up here, we are both in trouble."

He looked to her, wide-eyed.

"Stoick thinks that you set the dragon on my house on purpose, because of me," she told him. A fist clutched his stomach. "He thinks that it's my fault the dragons are attacking more. Because I went down the Pass that day and saw you, that I keep seeing you."

His hand squeezed her arm. His eyes pleaded.

"I don't think…I don't think that's true."

He shook his head.

"But I don't understand," Astrid said, trying to keep the feverish feeling down where it belonged, but the turbulent emotions rocketed upward. Tears pushed against her eyes. She made to wipe them away, but his hand beat her to it. His thumb ran along her eyelid, smearing the tear into her skin. "Why? My father hates me. Mom doesn't trust me. Stoick thinks I'm conspiring with you and if the village finds out they'll kill me."

She put a hand to her mouth to silence the sobs. Two arms stretched around her and she fell into his loose embrace. Underneath that armor, his heart beat faster. She pressed her head against it, feeling the beat against her cheek. He smelled of sweat and the forest, like fallen leaves, mud, and smoke.

"Astrid?" Ingrid's soft voice called from the hall.

Astrid shot up, out of his embrace, and looked toward the door. Footsteps sounded outside her door. She looked to him, but he was already off the bed. He didn't have to make it to the window, and as the door handle squeaked, he dove underneath the bed with such eerie silence and fluidity that Astrid gapped after him.

"Astrid?" Ingrid asked as she came inside. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Astrid said, putting a hand to her cheek, wiping a ghost of a tear, praying that her mother couldn't see the anomalous shadow under the bed. "I'm just having trouble sleeping."

"You and I both," Ingrid tried to smile. She came inside and sat down on the bed, opposite from where he had sat only moments ago. Ingrid reached and pushed a loose strand of hair from her daughter's face. "Things will get better."

"Everyone blames me," Astrid said. She rubbed her face. "Mom, do you think it's my fault?"

Ingrid didn't answer immediately. "I don't know, Astrid. It's impossible to tell. Just…please baby, stay out of the woods. Stoick won't want to convict you, but he will if it means keeping the village safe."

"You wouldn't let him do that," Astrid asked, her voice a crack in her throat.

"He is the chief," Ingrid said lowly. "If he commands it, there is little to nothing that I or your father could do about it."

"Mom," Astrid began to plead, but Ingrid put a hand up. "Best not to worry about it. if you stay away from the Pass like you should, you won't have a problem. Is that clear?"

Astrid chewed on her lip.

"Astrid?"

"Yes, Mom," Astrid nodded. Ingrid patted her knee, kissed her temple, and said a quick goodnight as she left. Her footsteps hesitated on the other side of the door, and then quietly descended the stairs. The door of their bedroom opened and closed, and soft murmurs passed between her parents.

He clawed out from under the bed with the same silence, like a living shadow.

"See?" Astrid said as quietly as she could. "They might have heard you."

He pointed at her, and gentle tapped his finger against her lips. The rough fingertip sent a chill to the back of her throat.

"Fine, they heard me," Astrid said. She looked toward the window, his only exit, and sighed. "It's not that I don't want you to stay, but it's too risky. I'll see you later, okay?"

Woefully, he nodded and stood up. His footsteps barely made a sound as he walked back to the window. The moonlight streamed inside, shone off his leather, and reflected in his eyes as tiny sparks. He waited there for a moment, watching, before slipping out and vanishing into the darkness. Astrid tiptoed to the window to see him, but he had gone. Sentries patrolled none the wiser.