Welcome to family dynamics.
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Hands on Sunshine
Chapter Five
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"Astrid, wake up," a lazy, groggy voice spoke, shaking her shoulder with a beginning yawn. Through her eyelids, Astrid was slapped rather rudely by the late morning sun shining through her window. She groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets along with her.
"Five more minutes," Astrid's voice was muffled in her pillow as she spoke, looking quite comfortable.
"No. Mom needs you up now. You need to go to the seamstress," Auda was equally exhausted, having just woken up herself with a raging hangover, headache and all.
"Oh, shit," Astrid rolled back over and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Auda would have laughed at her sister's hair, being as frazzled as it was, but her hair was much the same, not yet braided and wound up in her newly adopted married woman's hairstyle. And, also because she was feeling like shit and looking grimly upon the remaining day that would soon be occupied by housework.
"Mom heard us come in last night," Auda said as she rubbed her temples.
Astrid scoffed. "Heard you come in. You were drunk off your ass. I came in quietly," she lifted the covers and swung her legs out into the warm air, standing up to stretch backwards in her thigh-length chemise.
"Don't be like that, Astrid," Auda said a bit louder than expected, thoroughly irritated. "Whenever I try to be nice to you, you always have to be such a hag."
"How was that being nice?" Astrid retorted with a sour look on her face. She walked over to her dresser to pick up her brush to untangle the mess that was her hair.
Auda heavily sighed, sitting down on Astrid's bed. "I just… I don't know why you're so angry with me all the time. I want to be nice, but it's so hard with you! Can't you tell me?"
Astrid thought, looking at herself in the looking glass, then to Auda, and then back again. She vaguely remembered Ruffnut asking the same question last night, and she remembered answering with an equally vague and lame excuse that made only partial sense. Astrid really wasn't quite sure why Auda was so bothersome to her, she really doesn't do anything; it has been mostly Astrid that has started things since Auda got home...
Grinding her teeth, Astrid set the brush down with frustration bubbling in her throat. "I'm sorry. It's just that you've been gone for four years and then you come back bragging about everything and rubbing it in my face—it just got on my nerves! I mean, you come back and act like everything's normal! It isn't normal! You and Brandan are living here, dad's being somewhat reasonable, and mom's relaxed and it's just… it's just…," Astrid hated stumbling for words because she thought she sounded stupid. "annoying!"
She wasn't about to go on and tell Auda how she actually felt about her return. Though Astrid loved Auda like any sister would, the feelings of inferiority and feeling unable to prove her worth in the overwhelming shadows Auda caused were much too deep to pull out so soon. She would have to excavate those feelings over time because, one, feelings sucked, and two, she was too embarrassed. Why would Astrid Hofferson think she was in any way inferior?
In the four years Auda was gone, Astrid built up her reputation with lightning speed and with as much ambition as a king, but even more so. Astrid was valiant and proud, so succumbing to such lowliness and vulnerability felt like throwing away her axe and shield at a charging enemy. It was too much to risk.
Auda looked at her sister with furrowed brows as Astrid looked at her intently, waiting for her to answer. Auda sighed and rubbed her forehead, coming to stand up. "I'm sorry. I really don't try to do that," Astrid bit her lip and nodded. "I'm just so glad I'm home, Diddy, with mom and Arnheim and now I'm married to Brandan… It's not normal for me either," she offered a tired smile, gripping Astrid's shoulders, standing half a head taller than her. "So just be patient with me, will ya? I'm not quite used to Berk yet—I've still got a Dublin accent!" this prompted both girls to laugh, if both a bit weary.
"Okay. And yes, your accent's horrible," Astrid smiled at her sister, so relieved this roadblock got out of the way. Auda grinned and pulled her in for a brief hug, then let her go just as quickly.
"Alright. Now get ready and go. Hallbera won't be pleased, mom said, if you're late."
"Yeah. Right," Astrid sighed and went back to pulling the brush through her hair as Auda walked out and closed the door behind her. After a few minutes of painful yanking and a few rats' nests, Astrid plaited her hair quickly and tied it with a spare leather string. She ran out her door and to the end of the short hall to the steep staircase that led up to the attic. She found the chest of summer clothes that all three girls had compiled over the years and hauled down the steps and back to her room. Throwing the chest on the floor, she went to her knees and flipped the top cover off and rifled for the tunic she wanted to wear. It was a short dress, about to the middle of her thighs, a couple of inches above her knees, with a deep green trim with pretty gold swirls. This dress was soft, tan linen, and was one of the few garments she got herself. It wasn't a hand-me-down, but an article of clothing she rightfully bought with her own money not three years ago. She prided herself on it, and she was also pleased it still fit her.
She threw the dress on after removing her chemise and tied a belt around herself. As she turned around, she caught herself in the looking glass, noticing how bare her collarbone looked with the wide neck the dress possessed; it could have slipped off her shoulders if it didn't fit so snugly. Furrowing her brows, she pursed her lips and traced her fingers over her pale collarbone, noticing the soft skin and the goose pimples that arose because she almost tickled herself.
"Freya, that looks bad," Astrid muttered, pulling her braid over her shoulder and untying the leather string. Astrid usually could give a damn about her appearance, but something was telling her to let her hair down because it looked best that way during summer. And, personally, she thought her hair was one of the prettier things she possessed, so she thought Hiccup would too.
"What does he care anyway?" she told herself, but she knew it was a lie. She knew she felt pretty when Hiccup looked at her, even for a split second, so on impulse she shook her hair loose and let it go as it was. She put on her gold coin fillet and adjusted it over her hair and under her sheet of bangs before walking out her bedroom door and down the stairs.
"Auda, I want you to shake out all the rugs, blankets, furs, pillows—everything—outside't. Then, you're going to dust this room and sweep in every godforsaken corner you find. It needs to be spotless," Astrid heard her mother say as she came into the front room where the benches were set up, or the 'sitting area', as Ingrid called it, but Astrid didn't care. Ingrid turned when she saw her daughter descend the stairs. "And, you, Astrid, are going to Hallbera's until whenever she sends you home. I asked her to send you around mid-afternoon, though, so you can help me with the laundry. Because of yesterday, we didn't get to Laugardagur, so we need to do a lot of the laundry today. When you get home, you will get everyone's bed sheets and I'll gather dirty clothes and we'll go. But go, quickly, Astrid. Hallbera isn't a patient woman," Ingrid shooed her off and turned back to Auda to finish giving her the game plan.
Astrid inwardly and silently groaned as she walked to the front door; she hated doing laundry. She didn't even bother putting on her boots because she knew it was going to be hot and sweaty feet were gross, and besides, they needed to callous up anyway. The sun was so bright outside she had to shield her eyes.
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Hiccup started work at the forge the next day with a dull headache but with a cheery smile that split his face in half despite his mild hangover. Gobber arrived early while the mist was still fading, and when Hiccup walked in he gave his apprentice-who-wasn't-really-an-apprentice-anymore a funny look and a scoff of bemusement.
Stoking the fire while Hiccup tied on his apron, Gobber said, "What's got yer face all bright an' good willin'?"
Hiccup shrugged. "Nothing."
"Well, it's gotta be somthin'. I 'ave never seen yeh grin as stupidly as tha'," Gobber tossed on some coals and threw in more wood as Hiccup walked over to his shrinking pile of weapons needing to be mended still. Hiccup laughed in retort, pulling out a sword bent in several directions, turning it side to side to inspect it.
"You don't know what I'm smiling about, and frankly, it's none of your business," Hiccup set the mangled sword on the counter and crouched to dig into the pile for some spears or longswords or anything like that. Hiccup wanted to finish the easier weapons first to save the hammers and maces and sickles for last.
"Ohh, I see," Gobber nodded with a hearty laugh and an accompanying nod, taking the weapons Hiccup handed him over his shoulder to place on the bed of coals. "Somethin' wit'a geel then, eh?"
Hiccup flushed, but with his back to Gobber he wasn't concerned about it. "Nope," he grunted as she heaved a very heavy hammer off the pile to access the crushed weaponry underneath. "Why would you ever think that?"
"Who wouldn't? Yeh've bin hangin' 'round tha' Hofferson lass quite a bit, haven't yeh? Word is, yeh got 'er a few geefs."
Hiccup just about jumped through the ceiling. When Hiccup didn't immediately reply, Gobber knew he hit home, but Hiccup still tried to thwart Gobber's accusations even though he knew it would be useless. "What 'gifts'? Girls don't like 'gifts', Gobber, everyone knows. Especially a girl like Astrid,"
Gobber chuckled. "Oh, lad, yeh don' know nohthing about geels."
"I know enough!" Hiccup calmly and fiercely replied, putting on some gloves to sharpen a few swords left from yesterday.
"Oh, righ', yeh knoow ev'rything."
"I never said that. I just said Astrid doesn't like 'geefs'," Hiccup said in a perfect replication of Gobber, even making a face similar to what his represented with squinted eyes and a taunting sneer.
"The lassie's mother said somethin' thee other day aboot some necklace. Apparrently, it's Spooknoose scales. O' so I've heard," Gobber raised one side of his line of brows, and shrugged with a hidden smirk behind his mustache. He knew Hiccup too well.
"Barnacle-backed Spooknoose scales," Just as soon as it left his mouth, Hiccup mentally smacked himself. Idiot! He knew he should have admitted it because Gobber caught him red-handed, but men around Berk didn't just dish out necklaces willy-nilly to any girl. Still as stubborn as a horse, Hiccup set his mouth in the characteristic straight line he had while Gobber laughed at him in victory. "What does it matter anyway? I gave her a necklace, no big deal. Laugh all you want."
Gobber waved him off and grumbled some things that made himself laugh and pumped the bellows. "Ohh, naow, don' git yer undies in a bunch, I'm jus' teasin'. I still remember thee day ye first walked in here and almost burnt yar face off."
Hiccup furrowed his brows, not finding much sense or point in Gobber's comment, but remembered the day quite clearly. He was opening the iron doors to the fire to put more wood on as Gobber asked, and he didn't know about the hot rush of air that would swipe him in the face, and to make things simple, he was lacking one and a half eyebrows for a few weeks. He chuckled at the thought, sliding the sword along the revolving stone, pumping the pedal to keep it going. "And you won't forget this, will you?"
"Yeh knoow me too well, lad," Gobber shook his head, pushing the bellow handle like it was nothing. "But tha' reminds me—I gotta tell yeh somethin'. Soh, since yeh've taken over much o' thuh shop duties as more o' an employee than an apprentice, an old friend of meen asked if I could train in another apprentice," Gobber explained as he stoked some of the coals, many of them already red. "Soo, I agreed. The lad'll be comin' in tomorr'a and it'll be a joint effort buh-tween you and me to teach 'im."
Hiccup raised his eyebrows but he really should not have been surprised. Gobber talked about bringing in another apprentice for years but he hadn't been able to find one, or had not received any outstanding requests. "Who is it?"
"Oh, Hoark's son. Dagger, or somethin' like tha'," Gobber replied, taking a red-hot sword and bringing it to the anvil to whack at with his replaceable hammer attached to this left arm. As the sound of metal hammering reverberated throughout the stall, Hiccup fell into a deep thought that consumed his mind most hours of the day. Even as Gobber talked, his 'thought mode' did not cease. He thought a lot, especially when he was alone, or mostly alone. Thoughts about having an apprentice around rattled his brain, thinking about what it would be like.
He wasn't sure how he felt about it. A part of him was exceedingly excited because he was finally able to teach someone what he learned and they were actually going to have to listen to him, but the other half of him was nervous. The new apprentice would be about the age when Hiccup started, about ten, and children made Hiccup skittish. Being an only child for the whole of his life and living a good portion of it alone, he left all his childhood tendencies behind many, many years ago (granted he still acted like a thirteen-year-old at times). There were plenty of children around Berk but Hiccup hardly talked to any of them unless they were asking him questions about dragons or begging him to ride Toothless, and even then he escaped quickly. He simply didn't know what to think or say around them. They were so unpredictable and loud and obnoxious…
And now, having to teach a young boy who was most likely just as rambunctious and bouncy and cocky just like every other young male on Berk, it was understandable why Hiccup's stomach almost dropped to the floor. Now he had to be around a kid when he usually avoided them. He wasn't really looking forward to it.
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Walking up to Hallbera's stall in the center of the market in the town square, Astrid saw hanging garments for both men and women hanging inside and out of the stall; trousers, chemises, stockings, tunics, dresses, shawls, scarves, but most hanging out were summer wear, and all of them expertly crafted. Hallbera seemed to find a way to keep up-to-date on the latest fashions somehow, even on a tiny island like Berk (granted it got a lot of foreign visitors), and the stall was bursting with everything new. Since finding out new dyes and inspirations of colors from the dragons a year or two ago, much of the clothing on Berk gained some light and looked brighter rather than the neutral tones that usually revolved around brown or green. The older inhabitants and those who stuck hard to tradition still wore the clothes they always have, but without the constant threat of dragon raids, body armor was reserved for combat and were replaced with much comfier clothing (except those damn bodices and corsets!). The stall was also filled with splashes of color Astrid had not ever seen on clothing before. Walking inside, her mouth fell a little bit.
Everything was so pretty. Perfect hems, impeccable designs, gorgeous and soft cloth—why had she not come here before? Oh, right, she hated dresses, especially long ones, but they were becoming so fashionable and pretty. Astrid ran her hands down a light green dress, shocked at the softness of it, and so much so she accidentally gasped. Quickly, she covered her mouth and blushed; when had she become so enthralled by dresses? They were so… girly. When she made Auda's? No, she only made it because Auda loved the color yellow and dresses (yuck!), not because she, Astrid, liked them. Dresses were for pansies. She would wear shorter 'dresses' like she one she was wearing that resembled more of a tunic and skirts that-were-not-long like her spiked armor that did not fit her anymore and that she was missing already, but not… dresses.
"Oh, Astrid! Decided to show up, huh?" Hallbera said with a joke in her voice from behind a counter. She had not heard Hallbera rummaging behind it when she walked in, too engrossed by the sheer amount of color. Astrid had never seen so much color other than the field of flowers higher up on the mountains behind her house that looked over the village.
"It's noon, isn't it?" Astrid asked while walking around a display table where a few women were picking out undergarments for their husbands. Astrid snorted and rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself. She continued walking toward the counter, her head raised to see the clothes hanging higher up on the wall. Ooh, there was a pretty blue one like the color of her Nadder with white flowers around the sleeve.
"Yep, you're just in tyme. Come, lass, follow me," Hallbera stood up straight and set a crate on the counter. She dusted herself off and picked up the crate in her arms and walked to a doorway behind the counter that had parted curtains, held up by shabby rope, leading to the back. Astrid followed, still looking all around at all the colorful garments before disappearing into the back of the stall.
There was a wall right after the doorway that Astrid almost walked into, meant to keep customers from peering into the back, but after turning a sharp corner, it was nothing like Astrid had expected.
It was a total mess.
There were rolls of cloth all over the place, stacked in piles on the floor, hung over chairs, thrown on tables in haphazard piles. There were long strips of trim in wide lines all over, in complicated knots and twirled around chair legs. Wooden busts stood on stands with half-developed dresses hung on them, some falling apart only to be held together by thin thread. There was a thread spinner in the corner that looked like it had not been used in ages, wool still in the basket, yellowed and brown. There were two other women working, standing around the table, drawing out designs with thin charcoal sticks on yards of cloth, and when Hallbera and Astrid entered the messy room they turned their heads.
"Ah, the new girl, eh, Hallbera?" The older looking one said, smiling at Astrid but did not give her any other recognition, and in fact, her eyes seemed indifferent. Astrid recognized her from a while ago when she returned from mangling her Favorite Tree with her axe and this lady was talking to her mother at the kitchen table with tea. But otherwise, she did not know her name at all, and she thought it was rather rude of her to call Astrid the 'new girl'. That always had bad connotations to it.
"My new apprentice, Ranka, and yours as well," Hallbera replied with a hard, stern easiness Astrid could only admire. She walked up to the table and set the crate filled with whatever it was on the counter and the other girl reached for it and pulled it over.
Astrid watched as she shifted through the contents, pulling out swatches and scraps of cloth and various sewing tools, finally pulling out a strip of decorated cloth that she held to inspect. "How do you think this'll go, Hal? Does it clash?" She held the strip to the large sheet she had splayed on the table across from Ranka and held them both up for Hallbera to see.
"Aren't you going to say hello? How rude!" Hallbera said with a laugh but it was obvious she was being entirely serious, hands on her hips and a light scolding look on her freckled face.
"Hi," the girl said offhandedly like she did not care much, saying it with a snooty tone Astrid did not appreciate one bit. Hallbera punched her lightly in the arm and she winced; Hallbera was definitely a Viking woman. Astrid loved her already. "I'm Stinkeye, Stink for short," she finished shortly and threw the scrap of cloth back into the crate and rummaged around for another swatch.
"Astrid," Astrid said, raising an awkward hand as a hello, then lowered it to her other hand to hold and wring around. She felt entirely out of place. She was never good with introductions around girls; with boys it was a different thing, usually something to do with shoving someone's face in the dirt. She still couldn't believe she was an apprentice to the most popular seamstress on the island without even realizing.
"Aw'right, geet ova here, geel," Hallbera said in an overly dramatized accent, waving her over. Astrid took two steps and immediately she felt a pin stab into the ball of her foot. Goddamn… bad idea not to wear shoes, she thought, lifting her foot up and brushing the pin off.
"Oh, yes, you always want to wear shoes coming back here. Stink spilt a bin of needles and Thor knows where they are. Bring that pin over," Hallbera said and crouched, reaching under the table and pulled out a bolt of deep green cloth, standing up to heave it onto the table with a grunt. The thing didn't look heavy but it must have been for a strong semi-bulky woman like Hallbera to grunt about it, Astrid decided. She came over to stand next to Hallbera, watching every footfall, and saw a bowl of pins on the table, so she put the one that embarrassed her in the bowl—how dare a measly pin hurt her foot. Aislin slashed her with a sword on her thigh once while they were sparring and she barely winced.
"Okay," Hallbera said, putting her fists on her hips where her bodice ended and the cinched cloth began, making her hips look wider than they were. "I want you to make four exact copies of that dress you made for Auda. I've got this green out to git ya started, and the rest of the bolts are in that closet over there," she pointed to a doorway on the other side of the room, then brushed her deep red bangs out of her eyes. "You've got until the end of tha harvest in three months. Make those and you'll be parmenent."
"Okay," Astrid said offhandedly, already thinking about how she was going to make this work. It took her about three months to make Auda's one dress, and now she had to make four in three months. Twelve weeks in three months… four dresses… so that's, what, three weeks for each dress? Shouldn't be too hard….
Before she knew it, Astrid was clearing a table away from the cluttered one Ranka and Stink occupied, chatting away, and hauled over the bolt of cloth over like it was a sack of rocks. "Gods—," she grunted as she set it down with a table-shaking bang that make a pair of scissors jump. She unrolled it and reached for a flexible tape measure by the scissors and immediately started etching out lines with broken charcoal pencils on the fabric, all measurements from memory. It only took her three months to complete Auda's dress because she messed up about five times on each of the measuring bits because Astrid was terrible at math, and once she did something, she rarely ever forgot it. It was much like a sequence of attack moves or a mutton recipe; each step counted and each one is important.
Astrid hardly uttered two words for the next four hours, too caught up in making little snips and cutting lines, drawing them, pinning brief sections together and setting them aside. She almost jumped when Hallbera came up behind her to tap her shoulder. "Tyme for you to do ye laundry. Ingrid wanted you home twenty minutes ago but you looked too focused to disrupt," She let out a hearty chuckle and Astrid noticed she had shockingly green eyes in the light she was in.
Astrid smiled weakly; she could be a bit intense at working. "Is there at time you want me back tomorrow?" she asked, folding up large swatches of the green fabric and setting them neatly on the table. Neat.
She shrugged. "Up to you. Whenever you want to get those dresses done."
"When I wake up, then," Astrid smiled and Hallbera let out a bark of laughter.
"I like commitment. Maybe you'll be useful, after all," she said as she walked away, winking. Astrid knew Hallbera since the day she was born but had not had a lot of contact with her. Ingrid and Hallbera were friends, but not like they used to be, apparently, from stories she's picked up over the years and piecing them together.
Hallbera, Stinkeye and Ranka continued working behind her as Astrid tidied up her newly-claimed workspace, making sure everything had its place before tip-toeing through the mess on the floor. "See you tomorrow!" Astrid called over her shoulder, walking toward the door leading to the front of the shop.
"Bye, Astrid," All three women said in unison before she disappeared behind the privacy wall. Leaving through the shop she was still amazed by all the colors she saw, admiring each one like they were all different scales from a dragon, each possessing their own spunk and personality. Then, she remembered with a groan, that she forgot to feed Spike in the morning because she was so caught up with getting to Hallbera's. Spike's gonna be pissed, she thought, shaking her head and beginning a light jog to save time. She decided to feed her dragon before going to do laundry when her hands would get white and fleshy and wrinkled as pickled plums.
Astrid crept around the back of her house, ducking below windows to avoid being seen from inside, and went to the cellar doors to get a fish basket. Auda and Brandan had received almost twenty-five fish baskets filled with cod, herring, eel, haddock, and even a few shellfish for their wedding from their family yesterday, so the whole cellar was filled with the rank smell of fish. It was so thick Astrid almost gagged simply when she opened the doors, stumbling backwards like a gust of wind hit her in the face. It wasn't the smell of rotting fish, just the pure fishy smell collected in nearly high toxic amounts, it seemed, mixed with soaking ludefisk, fermenting vegetables and shoulders of pig and cow along with scores of dried and salted meats.
Before she could think too much of it to scare herself off, she clambered down the wooden steps, covering her mouth and nose with her hand and a strip of her hair and grabbed the nearest basket by the woven wicker handle. She hauled it up the steps with some difficulty, even having to resort to removing her hand and holding her breath to make it to fresh air. Once outside in the beauty of the world again, she heaved a giant sigh of relief, sitting on the lid of the basket with her hands on her knees.
"You're so dramatic," said Auda from behind the chicken wire fence, scattering chicken feed with a blue cloth tied around her head. She smiled and brushed her hands together when she emptied the basket, walking out of the circle of white and brown squabbling and pecking chickens to grab the broom leaning against house.
"I am not," Astrid replied back, standing up and picking up the basket by the handles and waddling the distance to the ex-pig barn where Spike was probably taking her afternoon nap. She remembered when they had pigs years back. She could hear them honking and whining at night when they were not sleeping, and she hated cleaning up after them because they were so messy. She thanked the gods every time she went into the chicken coop to collect eggs because the Hoffersons now only took care of chickens while their neighbors took care of pigs. They would always trade eggs or dead chickens for a few pounds of pork every few weeks. Astrid did not like pigs at all.
"Hey, girl!" Astrid grunted and said at the same time, carrying over the basket to the bed of hay where Spike lay, evidently just waking up. She blinked her beady eyes as if she could not believe what she was seeing, and when Astrid came over she sat up and flapped her wings excitedly like she had not eaten in days. "Hey! Stop that, you're scratching the walls," Astrid set the basket down and pushed it over with her foot so all the fish spilled out with some sickening squelches and slimy-sounding pops.
Spike dove in and Astrid sat on a broken box, stretching her back. "Why don't you go out and socialize with the other dragons at the pen? I'm sure Zip and Zap miss you," Astrid said as she shook out her hair, noticing how strangely soft it was on her upper back where the neckline of her dress slightly plunged.
Spike seemed to shrug but Astrid already knew why; Spike was stuck-up and snotty and she was really good at fishing so all the other dragons seemed to have a beef with her. Astrid understood because other girls around Berk treated her much the same. She held her chin high and was the best at fighting so many thought she was bragging but she was not in any way—she was just confident and she was good at what she did. Astrid hated how confidence was struck down as being automatically cocky and full of oneself; she was not either, she just recognized her own skill compared to others. She was not full of herself… but Spike was.
"You need to get over yourself, girl, or you'll die an old lady all by your lonesome," Astrid grinned when Spike eyed her as if to say 'shut up', continuing to swallow fish whole or chew their bones like twigs. Astrid stood up and waved good bye. "I'll be back later! You better go out and say hello!"
She left the barn just as Ingrid stepped outside on the threshold, waving her in. "Come on, Astrid, we've got plenty of laundry to do!" Despite her mother's hidden warning to hurry up, Astrid took her time getting to the house because she was not excited to do laundry. She sighed because now she had to wash both Auda and Brandan's clothes instead of just hers and her parent's clothes. Gods only know how Brandan keeps up his own cleanliness; he was an Irishman and they did not bathe nearly as often as the Northerners. Astrid really hoped Auda was teaching him Laugardagr and how goddamn important it was.
"You can be a real pain in the ass, Astrid," Ingrid said as her daughter approached, lightly slapping her pert behind as she passed into the house. Astrid tossed an immensely confused and offended look over her shoulder, her brows furrowed so tight she could have stolen Gobber's unibrow and slapped it on her face. Ingrid, however, only grinned and shut the door, putting her hands on her hips.
Ingrid tsk-ed. "Oh, come on now, don't look at me like that. Get those sheets, girl. Time to get to work," she shooed her away but Astrid was still dumbfounded; her mother had not remotely touched her behind since spanking her with a wooden spoon when she was nine for punching Auda in the face and knocking out an already loose tooth. She pushed it aside though and gathered up the sheets off all the beds, and going into Auda and Brandan's room, she was tempted to search through their gifts for any cool things they may have received but her mother was calling for her to hurry.
She shoved all the sheets into one big basket that she carried over to the Rönd River a few hundred yards in the forest. Because most people had done their laundry yesterday, it was mainly just Ingrid and Astrid with a few others at the river's banks. It was quiet for the most part, but a few small children played in small pools where the river did not move so swiftly and where small minnows gathered while their mothers chatted away in low conversations, and sometimes a mother would shout out something to their child if one of them was misbehaving. A few feet away were the two gossiping mothers, so Astrid zoned out listening to their petty stories of husbands and brothers and what to cook for dinner, sometimes becoming lost in scrubbing clothes and rubbing a bar of soap on the scrubbing board she could not ever remember the name for (because she absolutely hated doing laundry), or mindlessly listening to her mother talk.
Arnheim often teased his wife that when she had ventured to Blarney, Ireland twenty odd years ago, she had kissed the Blarney Stone and received the most amount of the 'gift of gab' the stone is said to give to the kisser, but she had never done so. Ingrid could talk endlessly about any existing subject known to man and her limits never varied—it was infinite. She talked about anything and everything, from the dirt on the ground to the clouds in the sky. Astrid heard numerous stories from her grandparents that her mother's chatter got her in trouble on multiple occasions, from spreading gossip to untrue rumors in her younger days, and even talking so much she was grounded more than ten times. "She loves to hear her own voice," her grandfather would say almost every time Ingrid opened her mouth.
Astrid and her two older sisters had grown immune to it, but Auda was proving to have the same 'gift'. Though Astrid was much like Ingrid, talking profusely was not one of the things they had in common. In fact, because of her mother, Astrid hated big-talkers and learned to be generally closed-mouthed. Astrid did not have any immense need to run her mouth constantly because she liked getting her point across in as few words as possible, but she was not by any means the silent type. She spoke when she needed to but was not one to lead the conversation unless it was a subject she was adamant about. She liked being in-between otherwise.
Astrid, so focused on shutting her mother's voice out, didn't realize she was being spoken to until Ingrid splashed her arms with the cool glacier-melt water. "What?" Astrid said, pausing her scrubbing to look at her mother looking at her expectantly.
"How was Hallbera's?" Ingrid asked again, raising a thin brow, rubbing the cloth without having to look at it.
"Oh, it was okay. She's asking me to make four dresses in the three months until harvest that are just like the one I gave Auda," Astrid replied calmly, rinsing out one of her father's undershirts. "I don't think Ranka or Stinkeye really like me, though. Stinkeye gave me the stink eye when I came in," But, despite not being a whole lot like her in the talking field, Astrid did find herself talking more than normal multiple times.
"Ranka really doesn't like anybody these days. It's understandable since her husband died three years ago right when they got married. But because she doesn't really like me, she probably won't like you," Astrid did get her bluntness from her mother, though. "I don't really know Stinkeye, but I'm friends with her mother Toadfoot and, from what I've heard, she's just snooty. Toadfoot says she's always had a problem with Stinkeye being rude to others she doesn't know. Toadfoot hoped marrying her off would tame her, but I suppose that never worked out," she shrugged. "But, I do think you'll do a great job at being Hallbera's apprentice when she does decide to accept you, which I really think she will. Sewing would be the last thing I would think you'd like. Now that there aren't dragon raids every two nights, I'm glad you've found something else to occupy your time with. All I do now is take care of the house. I'm so glad Auda's home now so she can help me with everything there is to do," Ingrid sighed, flapping one of Astrid's chemises to straighten it out and then rinsed it in the water before folding it carefully and putting it into the basket at her right. "I'm proud of you," she smiled at her daughter, taking another garment of clothing out of another basket.
"Thanks," Astrid smiled back, and for once it was silent between mother and daughter. Astrid dipped one of Auda's long chemises newly made for her because she was now a wife and expected to wear a chemise to her ankles to bed, watching her pale hand underneath the crystal clear water. It was cool, having been warmed some from it's passage from high in the mountains from glaciers and fjords, traveling the distance now to the sea, spreading into streams and creeks, feeding all the coves around Berk.
Then, Astrid remembered something. She was at a cove last night where she drank with Hiccup… and kissed him. I kissed him! She thought, careful not to let her mother see her blush or hear her heart race faster. And he sucked at it, too, she giggled to herself, quietly, and outwardly smiled, taking a shirt to dip in the water now, but she kissed him, and she faintly remembered feeling her stomach twist, and not from the alcohol. But I'll teach him. I'll be glad to. And his stubble—ooh. She allowed herself to fawn over him in her head, their second kiss of the night at her doorstep that made her want to jump him fading into the forefront of her memory, and he initiated that one. He's so sweet, kissing me so lightly like that. But, my Gods, I had such an impulse to—
"Ugh, isn't it hot?" Ingrid interrupted her train of thought with a mighty groan, rolling up her deep maroon sleeves farther up her elbows.
"Maybe if you didn't wear such a dark colored dress, you wouldn't be so hot," Astrid adorned a smart-ass grin when her mother tossed her a playful scolding look.
And then it hit her: swimming.
"I think after laundry, I'm going to go swimming at the cove," Astrid said. Naked.
"Not until after dinner you don't and after we hang these up to dry. You're not getting away so easy," Astrid frowned. "I worked Auda today to the bone so you should be grateful I'm not making you do much work today after all you've done to help me these past few months. I thank you for it, dear. I know I took you away from your beloved training time with your axe and your friends," Ingrid raised a brow, sighing. "but you've been a great help. Now we can all relax, even just a little. Now that Brandan's at home, Arnheim is taking it a little easy as well because there's another guy. You know in his previous marriage before marrying me he had all sons with his wife, Brunhildr. Then she died and he married into a family of all girls," Ingrid smiled solemnly, eyes downcast to the pair of trousers she was scrubbing at.
"Mom, I've heard this a thousand times—I know dad had another wife and I have three half brothers, two with children, all married. Auda and Aislin's dad, Wolffang, died in a dragon raid, your first husband, and grandmother and grandfather married you to dad barely four months after. I don't have any real siblings, thirty cousins, eleven aunts and uncles, and six grandparents. I know, I know, I know. Moving on now," Astrid waved her hands as if swatting a fly out of the air. "What's for dinner?" Astrid was a professional at roping her mother back into the real world after she got off track instead of reminiscing.
"Auda should be starting it right about now…," Ingrid looked over her shoulder like she could see the plume of smoke from their chimney through the dense firs.
"Alright, I'll say my goodbyes after dinner, then. Get my pyre ready," Astrid received a swat to the shoulder from her mother and she responded back with a playful splash to her lap.
Ingrid's mouth fell open as Astrid laughed, but it quickly turned into a devious grin when she splashed her daughter back, soaking her front. Being Astrid, she couldn't be outdone, so she took a big swipe of water and Ingrid was soaked. It was not long before both Hofferson women were dripping wet head to foot, and by then they had taken the clothing needing to be washed to the middle of the river where it was shallow to simply wash the rest there. Nostalgia was a powerful force alongside happiness, and together they were hand in hand at this moment, flooding Astrid like a torrential wave, soaking her being.
When she was younger, when Aislin or Auda were too busy or out with friends and Astrid was stuck indoors, Ingrid would be the only one to play with her. Since Ingrid was the only one in the house besides Astrid who preferred axes, it was her who taught Astrid how to use a double-headed axe. Ingrid was widely known for her axe-play, and because of all the days the two spent playing and sparring and chasing each other, it was no wonder Astrid followed in Ingrid's footsteps. Though sometimes Astrid would like to think she was independent in her chosen path, deep down it was just like her mother's.
They were more alike in axe-play than anything else and every older generation Viking knew the resemblance of Astrid's battle sneer, the certain glint she had in her eyes, even to the way Astrid stood and walked away from fallen enemies with dramatic swings of her hips. Astrid was certainly her mother's daughter, more like her than her two sisters, and together, they were a perfect team.
The two Hofferson's finished the family laundry before sundown, carefully and delicately folding each article of clothing and arranging them in the baskets by who owned what. They walked back home down the packed dirt path in the forest to the streets of the lower village where they lived, making their way home with tousled hair and wide grins that looked nothing alike but they never looked more related. When they arrived, dinner was done, so they quickly clipped on the clothing on the line in front of the house before dashing inside.
Entering the kitchen, Ingrid dusted off her skirt with Astrid trailing behind, only to find everyone sitting down at the table already. "Good, everything's all set," Ingrid said with an air of gratitude and simplicity, pulling out her chair on the right side of her husband around the corner of the table and sitting down. Astrid followed suit next to her, and immediately she sensed her father's temper.
"Why are ye sohking wet, Ingrid? Astrid?" Arnheim said calmly, the first warning, his hands folded on the table.
Ingrid knew instantly how her husband would react and she was always prepared for nights like these, but tonight she wasn't having it. "Let's not get into it right now, Arnheim, please. Let's just have a pleasant dinner that your daughter so kindly prepared."
Auda's eyes were downcast. She did not acknowledge her mother much at all except for flicking her eyes upward once. Astrid watched Auda carefully, quickly deciphering her mood; Arnheim had yelled at her, and looking at Brandan across the table from her, he had been forced to keep his mouth shut from defying his father-in-law who was housing him, an Irishman. Brandan looked positively pissed, his mouth in a tight line through his close-cut beard.
"I asked you a question," When Arnheim was in this mood his accent almost entirely disappeared at some words, but when he got roaring drunk like he used to it was the complete opposite. Astrid could feel her mother next to her grow tense, and she could almost hear her choosing her words carefully.
"We went to do laundry and we ended up playing a little bit in the river. Nothing to worry about. We hung it up outside just now and it's drying—,"
Arnheim interrupted with a rough hand slamming the dinner table, making every member jump in surprise. "So you git to 'pley' all day while I warck my ass off for this family? Is this how it is? Huh? Because I git shite farr appreciation and my wife makes a fool o' herself 'pleying'? You've got ta bee fuckin' kiddin' me!" his voice rose with every word, and even Astrid jumped in time with each syllable, cringing. It was amazing how such a good feeling could be blown away like dandelion spores.
"Arnheim—stop—," Ingrid tried calming him, resting a tentative hand on his throbbing one but he threw her away like she was a leper.
"No! I've 'ad enough of this fucking bullshite, Ingrid!"
"What? What have any of us possibly done, Arnheim?" Ingrid raised her voice after trying to go the calm route and failing. Arnheim was an impossible man to reason with when he got going but that never stopped his wife from trying.
"Well, farr one, yeh need ta teach yer daughter how to cook because I come hoom and I get… this. This… this shite," he gestured to the table of food. Astrid looked at the bowl of sliced bread, the plate of stewed cabbage and carrots, the beef brisket that looked a little overcooked but still looked appetizing, and Auda even set out a small cup of flowers for a center piece. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Auda's dinner, and form Arnheim's words, Auda sank deeper into her chair and Astrid saw Brandan reach for her hand under the table.
"I can't eat this. All I ever want is a nice dinner, and you get Auda ta cook. Yeh shoulda sent her to do tha laundry," Arnheim took a swig of the ale and milk mixture, slamming the cup on the table and shaking his head.
"I worked her all day. You were gone, Arnheim. Auda and I did all the housework today, the least I could do was give her a break! She only got married two damn days ago!" Ingrid never swore, so this was a marking to Astrid that she was really mad. "I apologize, Brandan, it's—," she said in a lower voice but Arnheim cut her off again.
"Oh, so yeh cleaned, didja? About fuckin' time, for Odin's sakes!" Arnheim bellowed and Astrid's stomach turned. She wanted him gone—now. "You jest aboot embarrrassed me yesteerday when your obnoxious fam'ly came here—thee 'ouse was a complete mess! And your father, ugh," he made the most disgusted gargle like he was truly appalled. "that fat blob disrespected me son straight to 'ee's face!"
Say something, mom, say something, Astrid pleaded in he head, but Ingrid just took it. She had nothing to say. After years of being beaten down daily, what else was there left to say? A forever emotionally-strong woman, she was helpless against her husband whom she swore in marriage to be obedient to. Astrid would never take such insults from her husband because she would sooner punch him in the face, or even more tender parts. Astrid hated her father straight to the bone and through, hated his entire being, everything that made him. She was disgusted she was his daughter and the hue of her eyes clearly showed and even her cold exterior; she felt lower than dirt that he was her father and she was half of him.
A tense silence followed and Arnheim shook his head, spearing a slice of brisket and slamming it onto his plate, grumbling. Watching him childishly throw a temper tantrum made Astrid's very blood boil, how pathetic he acted, what a rotten person he was—she couldn't stand it. She wasn't going to sit by anymore and listen to her parents bicker and her father constantly berating his wife for the most menial issues. It made her sick.
Astrid stood with a flourish of screeching wood and all eight eyes were on her. Ingrid whispered for her sit down, but she wouldn't sit down. Astrid pointed an accusing finger at Arnheim who instantly flared at the defiance, his face red, but before he could speak, Astrid spat, "You are a piece of shit," and she threw a few slices of bread at his chest before running out the back door. Outside, she could hear her father bellow "ASTRID!" but she did not stop.
She ran around her house, and hearing heavy footsteps inside she rightly assumed to be her father's heading toward the front door, she ran faster. She slipped on some slick grass and fell to her knee to stain it green but she got up and ran as fast as her strong legs could endure. She needed out. Out of that place that seeped sorrow and pain gilded with the smiles of women. She wish she had done it years ago, telling her father what had been festering and growing in her head like vines. She hated him so much it ached. He hurt her mother, her kind, loving mother, and he was unremorseful. He was lower than shit, he was dirt. He was pathetic and would always be dirt.
She ran. The cooling humidity in the air failed to soothe her prickling skin and her muscles protested with each lunge after racing down two block. She did not know where she was going. She needed to run more, her muscles hurt like Hel. This was ridiculous; she was so out of shape. Tomorrow she would train all day, that was her plan. She ran faster, rounding a corner.
The forge.
She ran there, forgetting her muscles and remembering Hiccup's face. She had not seen him all day. She did not even realize. Her thoughts were so consumed by him it felt like he was there all along. Hiccup.
She burst through the door, and the first thing she noticed was the dying fire inside the hearth, blackened with still a few embers hanging on. It was still hot in the shop, however, but she was just looking for Hiccup. Did he leave already? No, he would have locked the door, he would not forget, he was not stupid.
"Hiccup?" Astrid said on crests of heavy breathing, now feeling the burn in her thighs and a stitch in her side. Man, she was out of shape.
Hiccup emerged from the back room, this time with his shirt on, looking confused to see Astrid panting in the doorway. He was glad to see her, though, he missed her all day. He had actually planned on stopping by her house and throwing pebbles at her window like he had before after work, but here she was, almost seeming to read his mind. "Hey," he said with a smile, walking over to her while he rubbed his charcoal-coated hands on a spare towel. "What're you doing here?"
Astrid was still trying to catch her breath, but she was at least breathing slower now, hands on her hips, slightly cocked. Hiccup did not fail to noticed the flush of her cheeks and her messy hair that looked damp from whatever she had done previously, and her breathing gave away that she had ran here. "What are you doing now?" She asked, wiping her dry mouth with the back of her hand.
"Uhm, just finishing some sketches," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder and looked to the door where a candle was lit inside, enticing, almost like a far off beacon. "Why?"
"What are you doing after?" Astrid asked instead of answering him. She wanted to go, go, go. Go with Hiccup. Now.
"Going… home?" he replied, a bit thrown off by her eagerness. What was she planning?
"Come swimming with me."
That threw him for a curve. "Swimming?" he said like the word was foreign to him. Hiccup furrowed his brows, looking down at Astrid throw her head back and groan, getting a good view of her long neck. I'll sketch that later, he thought and bit his lip.
"Yes, swimming, idiot. C'mon, let's go," she tried reaching for his hand, but Hiccup pulled it back to gesture to the back room and scratch his head.
"I-I gotta finish—,"
"Fine! Just hurry," she shooed him off with a flick of her hand and backed up to pull herself onto a counter. Hiccup shuffled to his backroom to quickly sketch in some design parts for a large-scale bola launcher.
Astrid tried relaxing herself, closing her eyes and listening to the pure silence the forge offered, but the red face of her father kept coming onto the black screen of her eyelids. She was so angry. A million times before this she remembered seeing his face grow so grotesque right before he would backhand her or her sisters or even her mother, which was highly illegal, when he would get drunk. The pain of it drew her to running out and training with her axe before she was even strong enough to hold such a weapon. Astrid remembered sitting against her Thinking Rock next to her Favorite Tree, crying her eyes out a hundred times before she turned eight. Arnheim was a violent drunk before he swore to Ingrid he would not take sip of alcohol after he almost threw her and himself off a cliff. He surprisingly kept his word to this day, however, the promise was too little, too late, for the three Hofferson girls had grown an intense hate for him that could never die, and Astrid was never the same because of it.
She pushed a hand to her forehead, not liking the squeezing girdle around her heart one bit. She sighed, opening her eyes and looking around the orange-lit forge from the setting sun through the windows. Hiccup works here, she thought. Wood and dirt floors, wooden walls, hanging weapons, various smiting tools on the walls, a pile of weaponry… it was oddly peaceful. There was a stillness Astrid had not felt before, a sense of calm, compose. This was Hiccup's spot, like Astrid's in the forest.
Before she knew it, Hiccup came out of the backroom with his hands clean and the candle blown out, walking over to the open windows to close them. Astrid hopped off the counter and shut the last one before he could reach it, his arm extended. She grinned at him and he smiled back cheekily.
"Oh, thanks," he said in a sarcastic tone but she knew he did not mean anything by it.
"You bet," Astrid latched it shut and spun around. "Let's go swim."
What made Astrid twirl out of the door, Hiccup would never be quite sure, but he chased after her with a grin on his face, quickly locking the door before catching up. He caught up her to walking rather briskly, arms swinging at her sides making her flowy tunic swish a bit. Hiccup just noticed her hair was down, walking next to him with a gentle un-Astrid-like smile on her face, and Gods, she looked so beautiful. Hiccup's heart almost jumped out of his throat as he watched her wild mane of golden yellow hair bounce and quiver behind her as she walked, wavy like the ocean and slightly unkempt, but gorgeous all the same. Oh, he just wanted to pull her to him and kiss her because she was so absolutely breath-taking and he wanted to be like that forever, just them both.
"What're you looking at?" Astrid said abruptly with a questioning, sour tone to her voice, brows furrowed, and Hiccup was brought back to reality. He remembered that if he did suddenly kiss her again, she would probably knee him somewhere rather painful because this was Astrid. She was different than all the other girls on Berk Hiccup did not even know names for, and different from the girls in Ireland who swooned over him. She was hard to please and even harder to get but Hiccup enjoyed the chase and he knew Astrid did not mind either, and, thinking about it further, she probably likes it.
The corner of Astrid's mouth was upward, resisting the one of her voice, so Hiccup grinned and looked forward. "Nothing."
She promptly punched him in the shoulder.
00
OOOOOHoohoo. What's gonna happen? :D Just you wait.
I really have trouble with the older characters, so I hope I did alright with Gobber. Funny thing is, though, is that Gobber is one of my favorite characters, and though I haven't done much of Stoick, he's one of my favorites, too. Uggh. Hiccup will forever be my TOP FAV, however, and Astrid.
Astrid's father is such an asshole, omg.
shunxalice: Thank you so much! It's a relief you don't mind long chapters, and I don't really either, but some people do and it's understandable. Have fun wherever you are! :D
Michelle: Thanks a bunch! I hope you liked this update as well! :)