V for Viking

Chapter 5 – Astrid's POV

It hasn't even been a full day, and I can already see the effectiveness of Hiccup's plan. The vote on Snotlout—which ended in a dead-even tie—had already split the village down the middle before Hacknee's murder. Once it was discovered that a murderer was on the loose, everyone became suspicious. Normal disagreements mounted into loud arguments and personal beefs escalated into fists all throughout the day.

Everywhere I go, everyone is doing the same thing: whispering. No one feels secure anymore, not when their neighbor may have been the one to kill Hacknee. Nervousness has consumed the whole village, and to make matters worse, there is no one to mend fences between villagers. Normally, in anxious situations such as the one we are in, the village leadership is there to stop things from escalating too far. Now, however, our village leadership is having the largest feud of all, and the rest of the villagers are starting to take sides. I've already broken up two fights between Vikings with very different opinions on the 'Snotlout' incident.

I know what Hiccup wants to happen…what he's planning on happening. He's creating a fire to consume Berk; he's just placed the logs, and now he is gathering kindling. It won't be long before all that's needed is a spark.

As I was making rounds throughout the village, I heard a lot of commotion coming from some of the sheep pens. Ever since the dragons stopped attacking, we've been able to cautiously expand our sheep pen until we created individual pens for everyone. As I ran over to a small crowd that was forming, I realized that we were standing next to Spitelout's pen. The gate to the pen was open, and it looked like the hinge was smashed.

"What's going on here?!" I asked as I pushed my way through the crowd.

"Ah, good. Astrid, these good-for-nothing rascals sabotaged my pen and let my sheep escape!" Spitelout explained in a voice pointed towards three young kids standing in front of them. I recognized the kids as the sons some of the first men to vote for Stoic earlier, and I'd bet my axe that Spitelout recognizes them too.

"Is that true, boys?" I asked, much to Spitelout's dismay.

"Oh, sure, ask a bunch of rotten criminals for their story…"

"Boys, what happened?" I asked over Spitelout's complaining.

"We were playing Hard Head over by those trees! I didn't even know that they sheep were loose until one ran by me and Spitelout yelled as loud as Stoic!" The largest boy—likely the group's leader—answered in a scared and believably honest manner. I took a quick glance at the boys as a whole and noticed decent-sized whelps on the side of their head; just the thing you would expect from playing a game about whacking someone in the head with a stick.

"Oh, yes, sure, you were hitting each other with sticks. Are you sure you didn't whack my gate hinge while you were at it to make your daddies proud?!" Spitelout asked more angrily than before.

"Spitelout, hush. I don't think that they did it…"

"WHAT!? You can't be serious, you TOO, Astrid!?" Spitelout burst out in a mix of surprise and outrage.

"Spitelout, why don't you focus on actually catching your sheep before we point fingers?" As much as Spitelout was angry, he was still cognitive enough to remember that yes, he did need those sheep. That didn't stop him from glaring daggers at the kids before turning to leave, grumbling all the way.

"Now, if I were you three, I would make myself scarce…" I said slightly threatening, but with a playful hint in my voice that the three boys didn't pick up on as they scampered away.

"Now, what was Hiccup up to here?" I asked myself as I bent down to inspect the gate hinge. It looked like it had been smashed inwards instead of sliced or chopped, so I suspect that Hiccup punched it with his gauntlets. But why? It would have been easier to use a weapon, not to mention the fact that most everyone uses a sword or axe, thereby making more people suspects if he used one of those. But no, he punched it…almost as if he was in a rush.

But where would he be going? And what did pissing Spitelout off at three boys have to do with his plans? Sure, Bard, Blad, and Tox's kids messing with Spitelout might up tensions a little, but not significantly. It's not going to start a blood feud or anything.

"Hell, if he wants to start a fight, it would be easiest to pit Tox and Sirge against each other. They've hated each other for years, and they're already on different sides…" I mused aloud, before realizing what I had just said. My eyes went wide as I realized what Hiccup's plan was: Stoic is down at the docks, Spitelout is now chasing sheep, and I'm standing here at this pen. Tox and Sirge were part of a small team that went to split wood from where Stoic hacked away after Hiccup's 'death.' Hiccup wanted everyone who would stop a fight away from those men so that he could turn them on each other!
I started sprinting for the forest, and as I did so other parts of Hiccup's scheme made sense. Sirge was a great friend of Spitelout, and while Tox wasn't. With Spitelout pissed at Tox's kid, there's no chance that Spitelout would view anything that might happen in a fair light.

When I finally got to the forest, Tox was being restrained by three men while a fourth was knelt down beside Sirge. Sirge was face-down in the ground, and was surrounded by a sickening pool of blood that had soaked into the ground.

"WHAT HAPPENED HERE!?" I demanded as soon as I arrived, not even catching my breath after sprinting with my axe.

"It's Sirge. He's dead, that much is certain." The man who was kneeling by Sirge said while standing up.

"The bastard asked for it!" Tox shouted while unsuccessfully struggling against his captors.

"Save it, Tox! Everyone knows you've hated each other for years!" A man holding Sirge scolded.

"What happened, Tox?" I asked, much to the surprise of the men around me. Heck, even Tox seemed surprised that I was giving him the time of day given the circumstances, but he didn't waste his chance.

"Everyone spread out to find any good, non-mutilated pieces of wood left. I lost sight of everyone, then suddenly…BAM! I'm hit in the head by a flying mace, the same kind of weapon that Sirge always keeps attached to his hip. Except when I got back up, I saw Sirge chopping a log…without his mace on his belt!"

I picked up Tox's helmet off the ground, and found a good-sized dent that matches his story. I even looked over and saw a mace lying on the ground next to a tree, supposedly where Tox was hit. I could already see how Hiccup pulled this off: he must have stolen Sirge's mace and used it to start this fight.

"So what'd you do, attack him?"

"You better believe I gave that son of a bitch a piece of my mind! I threw my dagger into his back and when he turned around I put my axe dead into his chest!" Tox proclaimed with a surprising amount of pride. It was the kind of pride a man displays after successfully springing a trap, and I don't doubt that is how Tox feels: he thinks that he defeated his enemy despite not attacking first.

I rubbed my forehead before finally telling the men to take Tox to Stoic. Although I don't like the idea of Stoic and Spitelout butting heads over this, it would be worse to abandon all principle by covering this up. Not to mention the men around me that I would have to explain my reasoning to… 'Yea, well, this is what he wants—I can't tell you who he is. I'm not sure why, and I don't know why he's doing this, but we shouldn't give in' isn't exactly a great case.

I don't know exactly what has happened since I left Spitelout, but if I'm lucky then nothing else will have gone wrong.

It just doesn't look like I'm going to be lucky anytime soon.

A FEW HOURS LATER

Finally. It took forever to get to this stupid cliff, which left me with way too much time alone with my thoughts. All the worry in my head physically made me sick on the way here…and naturally my brain took that as an invitation to think up worst-case scenarios that have just enough merit to them to truly concern me. I mean, when my head starts with 'Hiccup wants to murder Berk,' it can come up with some scary shit. And that mutilated body earlier didn't help things.

I began climbing up through the incisions made in the cliff wall, just like the last time I was here. About half way up, the gap between the handholds increased significantly, and I was forced to use almost all of my reach. When I finally got a handhold, my fingers slipped on an oily substance and I started to freefall, only to be abruptly cut off from dying.

I looked up to find myself within the claws of a Changewing which had apparently been clinging to the wall next to me. It flew me to the top of the cave and set me down surprisingly gently; standing there expectantly was none other than Hiccup.

"Sorry; I put the fish oil in the keep out unwanted guests. And not sorry, because you are technically the only guest so far."

"Gee. Thanks, asshole."

"Oh, a bit of fire in you today, huh? What on Midgard could have brought that about?" Hiccup mocked.

I had already begun answering before I realized that it was bait to rile me up.

"Well, for starters, I just watched half of my tribe call for an innocent man's head, only for Stoic to set him free simply to spite Spitelout! Do you have any idea how mad the village has gone!?" I replied angrily, but without moving towards him or moving much at all. On some level, my body remembered that Hiccup has proven that he shouldn't be threatened or trusted; however, my head still wants to both threaten and trust him.

"Of course I do. You think I would let something this important go to chance? I've got this mapped out. Tell me, who do you think the next target is?"

His question caught me far enough off guard that my anger was thrown off. It was dampened with surprise and confusion, then ignored entirely when I decided to think on the question.

"What, you think I'm just going to give you a target? Nice try, Hiccup."

Hiccup didn't reply, but instead calmly took a strip of parchment out of his back pocket, and held it so that I couldn't read what was on it.

"On here are two hints as to my next move. One is a place, and one is a name. Now, if you take your best guess as to the whom and where of my next move, I'll show you my hints."

I gave Hiccup an uncertain look, but he didn't change from his 'confident in a this-is-beneath-me' look.

Well, I guess now the next thing to do would be to frame Spitelout or push him over the edge. He would need him to tick off Stoic, and Hiccup seems to be a big fan of using his 'death' as a weapon. The last traces of Hiccup ever since Stoic's fire would be...

"The forge! That's the last place left with a connection to you!" I burst out, with Hiccup giving a slightly surprised look that all but confirmed my answer. "Oh gods, you're going to kill Gobber, aren't you?!"

If Hiccup wasn't surprised before, he certainly was now. However, his surprise seemed to fade into intrigued curiosity alarmingly quickly.

"Well, now, that's certainly an interesting angle. I can feel a true 'revenge' vibe there; you must think that my goal is to wipe out all who ever wronged me, am I right?"

"It's not like you've given any evidence to the contrary…"

"Well, think…bigger. My work here is going to be my masterpiece!" Hiccup replied with a strange mix of melancholy determination.

Before I could think of a response, Hiccup crumpled up the paper strip and tossed it to me. It was an impressive throw until it dropped to the ground four feet short of where I stood.

"Oh come on. Can't I look cool for even a few seconds?" Hiccup asked no one in particular.

I walked forward and picked up the note, then uncrumpled it to reveal two words.

"The arena? STOIC?! Are you—but—why—isn't he one of the last ones on the list?" Many questions fought to exit my mouth, but that one won out for some reason.

"List? Did you really believe all that?" Before I had a chance to even consider the possibility of answering, he continued. "I guess I sold it too well. Come on, a vindictive man with crumbling motive and a quick temper who flew back to Berk to assassinate a select few? Surely some part of that hasn't matched up with what you've seen…

"Truth is…my intentions are far less…remedial than that. Come on, I've got something to show you…" He motioned for me to follow him into the cave, and the dark walk gave me some time to start processing what he just said.

Well, yea, things haven't added up. His motives have been somewhat spotchy, and he did abandon his list idea awfully quickly. But this whole scenario is just so foreign that it's hard to tell what could be genuine.

We made it back to the lava pit, and I looked around. Nothing had changed since the last time I was here.

"This is it? I've already seen all this!"

"Oh that's cute. You thought that this was all. I set this up as a decoy should anyone ever stumble across my hiding place…I'd never stay in heat like this." He said before whistling right in my ear. My ears rung so loudly that I didn't notice the dragon behind me before it lifted up both of us and flew us to a hidden recess in the wall farther up. From any angle on the ground, the second cave that opened up here would be hidden, and this cave was significantly shorter than the last cave: it was only 40 feet wide before opening back to the outside.

"This…this is where I work it all out…" He announced before motioning me to look around. "Don't bother trying to find any names or figure out my plans; the names are all numbers and everything is written in a language that no one speaks anymore. Except me, of course, but only when I need to argue with myself…" He trailed off his joke at the end when he realized that I was too enamored with looking around.

There were two more boards, both with extensive amount of writings and patches of parchment suspended by pins and strings. The chain of events that this thing detailed out must have been incredible, because despite the fact I couldn't read the language, I could feel from all of the little extra pockets and alternated strings that he had planned this out well. The only major difference between the boards was that one had materials around it like it was still being actively used, and the other was pushed aside.

"What's wrong with that board?"

"Oh, uh…that's the old plan. I had to scrap it to account from some…unexpected developments…"

Huh. So maybe he doesn't have his kill list perfectly worked out. I wonder what went wrong with it.

"Like what, exactly?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yea. I had to completely remove you from the equation ever since you found me. If it makes you feel better, I was planning on baiting you and your followers out to the cliffs before taking you out myself."

"…..WHAT?"

"Yea, in the original plan I assumed that you would have a strong opinion and people would gravitate behind you. I was going to use you to toy with Snotlout at some point…"

"Okay, okay, forget I asked." I mumbled while trying to shake the thought from my head. "What is your plan for me now?"

"Oh, you think I would just tell you that? Telling you would eliminate your free will and also guarantee that you would not do it."

I shrugged off what he said, mainly because it was a longshot that I could trick him into telling me in the first place. I wanted to know solely so I would know what not to do, after all.

As I glanced at the board, I began to take note of the number of individuals that Hiccup had accounted for (made easy by the numbering system). The count was far over his previous list.

"Hiccup…how many names are on here?" I asked nervously, almost knowing the answer.

"Well, all of Berk minus one Shield Maiden…"

My eyes went wide as my head jerked back to the board, and I frantically started to scan over it before backing away. I was going to say something before I noticed a stack of scrolls over in the corner. They weren't any scrolls, however; they each had a fine leather container that are used only for maps. My thoughts shifted back to one of those 'worst scenarios' I thought up on my walk over, and as soon as it did I counted the number of maps. In the scenario, Hiccup was trying to kill more than just Berk, and it seemed an eerie coincidence that the number of maps match the number of Viking Tribes left after the war.

"Hiccup, earlier, you said Berk would be your masterpiece…" I brought up the analogy used early because I couldn't find any other grasp on the thoughts in my head. "But a masterpiece is supposed to be the best work out of a collection. Is that…accurate?"

Hiccup took a deep breath and stood up straighter before giving an answer.

"I suppose so, yes."

Each of those four words made my stomach tie even tighter knots, but I couldn't just stop now. I have to know, even if it kills me. Not knowing with definitely kill me.

"If-if this collection had a name, what would it be? What would you title your 'collection' of works?" I asked extremely nervously. Hiccup waited a few moments, looking off into the distance as if thinking of a clever and grand answer. Every second, though painfully slow, tightened the sickened feeling in my gut. I knew that the longer Hiccup took to answer, the more direct and intentional the answer would be. And I absolutely don't want to imagine how bad it could be.

Turns out, I didn't have to. His answer was worse than what I could have imagined.

"Well, I supposed I'd call it 'The Abolition of Vikingdom!'"