V for Viking

Chapter 2 – Astrid's POV

I'm trapped in a cave with a lunatic. Okay, so that's not fair. He's just emotionally unstable and fueled by the purest rage I've ever seen.

Either way, this is not good.

After he made a cryptic threat, he walked over to the edge of the cliff to cool off. The Nadder is still watching me, but all I've done is sit against the cave wall and think.

I need to find out more about what is going on. Hiccup was never one to hold a grudge…or was he? I never saw him get back at anyone, but then again he was never actually able to achieve his own revenge. I guess years of bottled ridicule would irk anyone, but I still don't but into Hiccup's story yet. Everyone loses friends in battle; that's just a hazard of being a Viking. For some reason, Hiccup wants to take on the world and spill as much blood as possible.

Which is still a pretty significant Viking trait, now that I think about it.

I need more information. Hiccup has had plenty of time to cool off; perhaps he just needed someone to lend an ear. Often time just saying things out loud points out errors in your line of thinking, and I can tell that Hiccup has already had a few snags through our 'talk' so far.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to care that his logic was flawed. He plowed on regardless.

I slowly walked over to where Hiccup was standing, walking with heavy steps so I didn't surprise him.

"A Night Fury, huh? Is that why the Nadder follows you? Was it like a pack leader?"

I must have said something wrong, because Hiccup's hand instinctively curled into fist. Fortunately, he caught himself and unfurled his fingers. It's something that I've seen many pissed Vikings do; namely, his father. But usually Chief Stoic displays a temper to compete with Thor when he makes a fist.

"He. Not it." He grumbled to correct me.

I fought a serious urge to roll my eyes, which would probably ignite the anger that is obviously stirring inside of him.

"Noted. Was he why the Nadder obeys you?"

Again, I said the wrong thing, but instead of a fist this time Hiccup flinched inwards on himself.

"And not 'obeys.' They all have free will, but they just…want to help me. I suppose it's a gift I have."

"Some gift. If Odin gave me the 'ability' to walk up to a dragon and put my life in its hands, I think I'd start worshipping the Frost Giants…"

Hiccup almost laughed (and by that, he blew a slight bit of air out of his nose), but let the conversation die.

Okay, so that was a little informative. Let's try a different approach.

"So, your list…are you just going to melt everyone in order? Because that seems like a silly plan, to tell me that I'm not going to die yet and let me raise an alarm…"

Hiccup's expression remained unreadable, but he at least turned his head in my direction.

"No, the melting was…impromptu. I have quite a nasty little sadistic side, and toying with drunk Vikings before their death was…" he trailed off, almost biting his tongue to stop himself.

I tried my absolute hardest not to react to what he was saying. If he was trusting me enough to talk, then I can use this. I don't know if I can save him, or even stop him, but at this rate I might be able to try.

"Was…?"

"Let's just say it was too familiar. I will not kill anyone like that again…"

Oh, that's just a perfect spot for a question. I don't know how he will react to this next question, but this is too good of a chance to ask.

"Then how are you going to kill us?" I asked as innocently as possible given my position.

Hiccup took a long and deliberate breath while frowning, and started to open his mouth before closing it again. He was probably searching for a good word, then came across another idea altogether. Good; that means there are things he hasn't thought out and he is confronting them.

"Why do you say 'us'?"

"Because you said I was going to die…"

"Oh, yea. That's right…" he trailed off insecurely, reminding me of the boy that he used to be. It was refreshing and reassuring to see the old Hiccup.

It was also pretty nice that he forgot that I was going to die. That means he was likely trying to scare me earlier, and that I may not be on the list after all. But then again, this could be a trick.

"How did you rank your list? There weren't enough spots on the board for the whole village…"

Perhaps, if he tells me the criteria, I can decide whether or not I am on there for myself.

"You are really, really reaching here, huh? Fine, if you want to do this… I can't completely put it into words—it's a gut feeling thing—but I guess I would say that the list ranks people who were significant in making my upbringing awful."

"So how did Griff and Svimmon fit into that?"

"…I needed two more people to have an even 28 names. That makes it go 7-6-5-4-3-2-1, like a pyramid. I don't know, I never had a huge problem with them, but a lot of the things they said just stuck in my mind. They were memorable, and right now my memories are not my friends…"

I decided to wait before responding. I have plenty to say, but our last talk exploded in my face, so I'm going to play this one safe. After a good pause, I decided to ask a question that would let Hiccup decide where the conversation would go. So far, those kinds of questions have resulted in the most information in the calmest way possible.

Gods, I sound like I'm trying to soothe a dragon with words. I feel insane right now.

"So you're just going to do what? Jump off buildings and stab everyone in order?"

Crap. I used way too much sass in that statement, and I'm already regretting every word.

"Watch it, #29." He said warningly but with a playful undertone.

His tone was quite appropriate, and I froze as I dissected his words. There are 28 people who he wants dead, and I'm number 29.

Should I feel flattered, outraged, or lucky?

Let's go with outraged. Or at least playful, if he's willing.

"Oh, I'm not even top 10? I must have done something wrong…"

Hiccup cringed. He cringed. Just that simple action made my stomach flop, and I think I may have just committed the stupidest mistake ever. Of all time.

"No, you all did 'something wrong.' If you had done anything right, then I wouldn't have left…"

I wanted to press that statement. To find out what exactly he means when he left. Where did he go? What has he seen? But everything I say right is always followed by two things wrong, and I'm scared of saying something damaging again.

I need to say something safe. To change the subject completely. Get his mind off of all this dark stuff.

"So where did you learn how to use weapons so well?"

Hiccup looked down and shook his head slightly, before looking me dead in the eye.

"South."

"And what about that pirate you mentioned? Where did you meet him?"

Still completely deadpan (but without any playful undertones anymore; just aggravated ones), he replied.

"Southwest."

"And where was the best rum ever from?"

It worked. His deadpan broke and a small grin fought its way to his mouth. Hiccup never was one to let sarcastic opportunities go to waste, no matter the circumstance.

"East of Southwest."

Despite my success at lightening the mood, I got fed up with his sarcastic replies. I mean, I'm trying to help. Even if he can't see it, surely he can' be this abrasive. I'm giving him a chance to embellish tales of faraway lands. Everyone loves that; just ask Trader Johan. My patience wore thin, and what I said next I said without even thinking.

"Gah, you have this whole Viking thing down. As stubborn as the day is long, bad temper, and awful naming. I mean, 'Toothless' for a Night Fur-OOMPH!"

I never finished that sentence. In a flash, Hiccup grabbed a knife from his belt and flung it at me, catching me in the stomach and forcing me to fall onto my back, which only further jostled my new stab wound.

I was so stupid. I said so much in that one sentence that I'm surprised he didn't kill me.

"GRAAHH! You HAD to say that, didn't you!? I'm here trying to forget the rest of Berk and give you a chance, and you throw salt into my wounds just like everyone else! What is it with you Hooligans and twisting the knives in my back!?

"You know what, if you really wanted to do this, then FINE. If you're going to pry for information, either be cunning or direct. That is what Astrid would do. Don't be awkward like…well, like me. But you wanted to know how I'm going to kill my list? Well, this pleasant trip down memory lane has inspired me. I'm going to Berk tear itself apart. I'll apply pressure in all the right places, and watch them kill themselves. The years of trust they've built with each other…I'm going to corrupt it in a matter of days. Then, when only the most paranoid and most ruthless are left, I'll find out who the real bastards truly are. Berk has been a snake-pit for years, and I'm going to find out who the venomous ones are!"

I held the knife a still as I could and applied pressure around it, hoping to at least stay some bleeding. However, Hiccup walked over me and planted his foot on my shoulder, pinning me to the ground. I writhed in pain and was about to say something before he pulled the knife back out. My eyes shot open and went as wide as they could; we both knew that I was less likely to survive with the knife removed.

Hiccup walked over to my head and crouched down next to my face.

"Look, you've awakened my sadistic side. You have two options… One: you bleed to death up here and I'll melt your body later, or Two: you're going to lay very still while my Nadder cauterizes that wound. You are going to have to let this dragon save your life, and it is going to sting like a bitch. What do you say, do you want to live?"

I balled my hands into fists and squeezed to try to block out the pain, but I found I was unable to. I pride myself on being tough and fighting through pain, and this isn't my first serious wound, but this hurts much worse than anything else I've gone through.

"You can't fight through this Astrid. My throwing knives are laced with different things from different places. That particular one is designed to increase pain. For about an hour, the pain will escalate until you faint…or die. You can't win this, Astrid. Die or be saved by a dragon."

I shut my eyes tightly, and tried with everything I could to block or even tolerate the pain. Nothing worked, and I finally laid my head back and opened my eyes. I unfurled my hands and nodded to Hiccup.

"Good. Metalbreath, patch her up. I've got some things I need to prepare. Take her to the cove outside of the village when you finish."

Hiccup whistled and suddenly a Changewing appeared from the ceiling. Apparently, it had been invisible this whole time.

And apparently, it wasn't alone. Hiccup mounted one, then turned to give me one last word before leaving.

"Now, Miss Hofferson, I would recommend you bite your tongue on what you've seen here today. If you tell anyone about a crazy, dragon-riding ex-heir hell-bent on killing Berkians, I'm afraid all you will do scare some and upset some others…..actually, that makes my job easier. By all means, do what you feel is best!"

He flew off, and the Nadder approached me. The pain in my gut had reached a height that I didn't care at all what happened next, but I was prepared for the Nadder to just let loose a stream of fire wider than me. After a few seconds of nothing, I opened my eyes to see the Nadder giving me a small piece of bark with its beak. I was confused, until I realized that I was supposed to bite down on it.

"Oh…uh…thanks?"

The Nadder squawked, and looked at the wound. I moved my hands and tore away the fabric around the cut, then bit down on my bark.

It hurt more than like a bitch. I'd say it hurt like at least 43 bitches. Instead of a wall of flame, the Nadder used a very small and precise flame that sealed the wound under ten seconds. Ten agonizing seconds, but ten seconds nonetheless.

And then I blacked out. When I awoke, it was dark outside. That wasn't surprising, considering it was nearly sunset when Hiccup stabbed me. I was in a nice cove, and there was water nearby. My wound hurt but there was a strange tingling that helped keep the pain at bay. It was far better than any healing salve I've ever had.

I removed my top and washed the blood out of it in the nearby water, before wondering what to do about the knife-hole. I decided that since it was late, I would just slip into my window and go to bed after changing, and worry about all of this tomorrow. Maybe it was this tingling or maybe it was the events of the day, but I felt exhausted and sleep called to me despite having woken up recently.

Fortunately, because everyone was still on the hunt for Griff and Svimmon, my hall would be empty. During these searches, people who come back empty-handed usually head straight for bed without reporting to anyone so that they can get as much rest as possible before waking up to search in the light.

Uneventfully, I made it to my hall. I hung up my armor-skirt and tossed my top to the side of the room. I placed my shoulder pads in their place, and put on the first sleeping garb I saw.

I don't even remember getting into bed. I just remember being woken up at the crack of dawn—much earlier than I had planned on waking up at—by a hurricane of commotion. My parents told me to get out of bed and head down to the docks.

I dragged myself out of bed one limb at a time, and my stomach wound flared up once or twice slowing me down even further. I groggily dawned my clothes and armed myself with only a light dagger. I didn't need to carry an axe all day with my stomach the way it is.

As I headed down to the docks, a crowd had already former. I must have just missed an announcement or something, because everyone was fighting for a view and talking to their neighbor.

"Can't believe it."

"Miracle of the Gods, it is!"

"Miracle of the Gods indeed! Look at how big he is now!"

There was an overall sense of wonder and astonishment that mixed in with a general pleasant feeling from the crowd. I carefully pushed and shoved my way through the crowd—careful not to reopen my wound—and finally arrived at the edge of a circle in the crowd. Everyone had given space to the few people in the middle.

My eyes went wide and my mouth went agape when I saw Stoic, Gobber, and Spitelout standing there with Hiccup.

He saw me in the crowd, and gave me a wink. And not the 'hey there' kind of wink. The 'checkmate' kind of wink.