V for Viking

Author's Note: Hey, its been a while, huh? I know people make excuses but I just plain and simple haven't felt like writing or reading in a while, and have done other things with my free time. But I'm back, and I am planning on wrapping up this story (I say that but its a few chapters away). So enjoy this and, you know, don't kill me for making it take so long.

I reread the whole story to make sure I didn't forget any plot points, but if you catch something or want clarification hmu. As of now, you shouldn't trust most of what Hiccup says, but that's been true since the beginning.

Chapter 6 – Astrid's POV

Abolition: The act of formally putting an end to a system, practice, or institution. Example: Hiccup's returned to Berk determined to see the abolition of Vikings.

That definition was not lost on me. Hiccup's words had stunned me, but something inside of me stirred at his intentions. That's it. He is officially a threat. I hurled one of the two daggers I had on me at his head with the intention of distracting him, and to that effect it worked perfectly. Hiccup leaned backwards until his body was parallel to the ground before pulling himself back up in an impressive display of agility. Unfortunately for him, that only helped me; by the time he was back up, I had hit him on the side of the head and place my second blade to his neck.

Hiccup stumbled down to one knee, and kept his eyes focused on the ground once he realized he was caught.

"Don't you dare try anything, or I'll kill you!" I shouted at him, almost embarrassed at the nervousness in my voice. As if to mock me, Hiccup's reply was both calm and quiet, making my shout seem all the more out of place.

"You're not going to kill me…" He responded confidently, as if he knew something that I didn't. In fact, it was that quality of his demeanor that pissed me off; this whole time, he's been toying with me and telling me things just for his own amusement, and I'm sick of it. I'm done with receiving inside jokes that I can't understand and being forced to watch as he tried to tear my home apart.

"And why not?!" I yelled back angrily.

He bit his tongue, which only served to increase my frustration. Without thinking, I kicked Hiccup in the stomach, knocking him to his back, and stabbed my dagger into his biceps while he was still recovering (he had apparently not thought wearing his armor important around me; his mistake). Hiccup flinched at the wound, but didn't cry out and really almost seemed more annoyed than injured; he acted like he'd had worse before.

"No, that's not how this is gonna work from now on! You are going to tell me EVERYTHING! WHY WOULDN'T I KILL YOU?!"

Hiccup held the wound in his arm with his hand in an attempt to slow the bleeding, and slowly got back up onto one knee. He still refused to look up at me.

"I…I don't know why. I thought I had all of you figured out. I did have all of you figured out. But you're…different now, Astrid. You were supposed to be Stoic's greatest opposition—someone who took an active role in preserving the Tribe—and instead you haven't done anything. You know enough to stop me, and you haven't…and I don't have a clue why. But it's the same reason that you won't kill me; of that, I am confident."

"What do you mean?"

"Why haven't you killed me yet? You know why I'm here, you know that you're justified in every way. Yet you let every second go by with me still drawing breath. So you tell me: why haven't you done anything?"

My mind started to race, and I quickly realized that Hiccup had a very valid and scary point. I don't know why I haven't done anything. It really isn't like me to hesitate about anything, but something about this whole scenario has made me uneasy. In a moment of panic, I quickly forced a subject change.

"You don't get to ask questions! Th-that's my job here! I want you to tell me everything! Why are you doing this?! What else have you done!? What are you planning on doing?!"

Hiccup sighed, before standing up despite the blade against his neck. Although I still had a dagger to him, it didn't feel like I was in control of the situation anymore. Hiccup looked me in the eyes before taking a deep breath, then waiting for what felt like forever before finally giving in.

"You know what I am planning. You've known for a while. I'm here to see Berk destroy itself. I'm here because this godsforsaken island holds the last trace of Vikingdom, and I need to purge it. I'm here because Viking idealism has destroyed every part of my life, my heart, and my soul, and all that's left for me is to make sure that this disease never spreads again!"

He looked me dead in the eyes, silently challenging me. The knife I held against his neck no longer felt as if it was a threat or even a weapon anymore, and I lowered it back to my side.

This was no longer a battle of weapons, of steel, of might. This was a battle of ideals; of a way of life and its opposite; this was Hiccup tormented by and hell-bent to destroy everything which I had grown up believing, supporting, and fighting for.

This was no longer a battle that could be won by killing. That was Hiccup's entire point; killing is part of the Viking way, and that's why the Viking way should be abolished. No, to win this battle, Hiccup had to be confronted with a truth that he was not prepared to deal with. He needed to see with his own eyes that, at our core, we aren't evil. We aren't shallow beings with one fallback (slaughter). I have to show Hiccup that he can't corrupt us against ourselves because we are better than that. That is how I beat Hiccup.

I have to bring peace where Hiccup expects war.

I have to bring the village together, without telling them who is really behind their feud. Hiccup needs to see that Vikings have the capability for compassion and that we won't tear each other to shreds.

I don't know how long Hiccup and I locked eyes, but once I made up my mind there was no going back.

"You're wrong. You want to think you can turn us against each other because you think that justifies our deaths. Maybe you've even seen other tribes crumble. But we won't. I won't allow it." I proclaimed defiantly.

"Then I guess its game on, then. I'll have a dragon drop you back off down below, and then it's all bets off."

"Not quite. You have to play fair. You can't kill me just because I know what you're trying to do, and I won't tell anyone that you're pulling strings."

Hiccup nodded in agreement, then pointed to the edge of the cave, where a Nadder was ready to take me back to the Cove. As I turned to walk towards it, I noticed Hiccup reach for a cloth to cover his wound. I smirked at the thought of getting back for my own knife wound not a few days ago.

"One question, Astrid." Hiccup called out as I was about to hop onto the dragon. "You're trying to prove that you're worth not killing; what happens if you're wrong?"

I didn't look back. I couldn't afford to. Not now. I couldn't let him know how much that question sent a chill down my spine, or how uncertain that I was in my ability to stop the village from its feud.

I can't afford to give up an advantage, because I can't afford to lose now. It's Astrid Vs Hiccup, and the winner takes the lives of Berk in their hands.

ONE HOUR LATER

One hour to think. Sixty minutes. Three thousand, six hundred seconds. Countless thoughts per second. And I needed all of them and more. I can't afford to lose any time. Not with what's at stake. I had to analyze everything that Hiccup had said, done, and intended.

It's frustrating, because he's been jerking me in circles with trivial matters when I could have been focusing on the bigger picture since he came back. I was so focused on whether or not he wanted to kill me that I failed to pick up any vital clues. I had to waste precious time sorting what I think were misdirects, lies, and truth. I can't be 100% certain of anything…but I think I have a lot of it sorted out.

The most important thing is that I know that he wants to villagers to hate one another as much as he hates them…us. That means, if he's smart, he'll continue to pour salt on the wound of the 'Snotlout' issue.

He even told me about his next move. Stoick. The Arena. The cocky bastard probably figures that I won't take him literally, and then he'll find some perverse pleasure in doing exactly what he told me he was going to do. It's an awfully arrogant thing to do, but he doesn't realize how arrogant he is.

And that gives me an edge.

As I made it back to the village (it took me only an hour because I sprint the whole duration), I made certain to look at for any gatherings. Even a small one could contain is quarrel, and I needed to pacify or clear up anything minor to keep the powder-keg from igniting.

It didn't take long for me to find anything. I looked down an alley to see a ring of people watching a fight, which is more of an invitation than I need. I ran over and took a quick survey of the scene: Ruffnut and Tuffnut were going at it, but not like usual. This had no reservations, unlike their normal childhood brawls; it also had knives and blood drawn, thought nothing major yet. The crowd formed a ring which had a split down the middle, which hinted at this fight being more than an entertaining scrap.

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!?" I yelled as I pushed my way through the crowd into the middle of the ring, causing both Ruff and Tuff to pause and look up. They both scrambled to their feet and immediately began explaining why they were right and their sibling was wrong. It didn't take my long to figure out what had caused the fight; Tuffnut was a friend of Snotlout's and supported the Jorgensons, while Ruffnut found Snotlout a pain and sided with Stoick. No doubt the crowd has halved between people supporting the Haddocks and Jorgensons, making it likely that this fight would have ended in two crowds fighting.

"Come on, Astrid! Tell him that he needs to go stick his head up a yak's ass!" Ruffnut pleaded. She clearly assumed that since Astrid was sworn to protect the village that meant that she would take Stoick's side.

I gestured for both of them to calm down before I finally gave my verdict, and the crowd went still.

"Ruff, there's nothing wrong with Tuffnut defending his friend's honor. It's admirable, actually…" I trailed off to the sound of Tuffnut and his crowd erupting, with the crowd taunting Ruffnut's crowd and Tuffnut making rude finger-gestures to Ruffnut. "…but there is shame and treachery in causing trouble in an already tumultuous time." I finished sternly, causing the crowd to die back down.

"Now all of you just need to walk away before I memorize your names and sign you up to wake Stoick up in the morning!" I threatened the crowd half-heartedly. It worked because they dispersed in the blink of an eye.

Now alone, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for whatever challenge came next. I am, after all, one broken-up fight closer to beating Hiccup.

Over the next two days, the villagers remarked that it seemed like I was everywhere. Quarrel at the docks? I made it in time to humiliate the offenders in front of the crowd they raised. A heated debate in the Great Hall? I ended it with arguments that neither side could come back from. Little kids whose fathers sent them to throw rocks at the Jorgenson's yaks? Got to find out for themselves how many push-ups someone can do before passing out.

Everywhere I went, I noticed a trend. The people getting into quarrels, fights, and arguments were always the same kind of people: young (under 35), meatheads, and not in control. None of the heads of any of the families of Berk had come to blows—or even spoken with—members of opposing families. Family leadership tended to be comprised of older or wiser Vikings, and while their views very much so influenced the people getting into fights, they themselves were reserved. Make no mistake, they were preparing for blows to come and tensions between families are at an all-time high, they just are smart enough to keep to themselves.

The only families actively causing trouble are the two in the center of this problem: the Haddocks and the Jorgensons. All that is left of the Haddocks is Stoick, so he would be at a distinct disadvantage in a feud—or war—if he weren't such a powerful chief. However, in light of the Haddock clan's decline, the Jorgensons are the clear most powerful family on Berk, and they have many branches to their tree. Their tree also ties in to many other family trees, meaning that they have strong ties with most clans on Berk. Their family connections and influence are the only reason that the village seems so perfectly split.

And now Spitelout Jorgenson has asked me to sit down with his family for a discussion. He assured me that no harm would come no matter what I may say, but that's not comforting.

I knocked on the door to the Jorgenson hall, and it took only a few seconds for it to open.

"Ah, Astrid! We're glad you came! Please, come inside and have a seat. Would you like any ale?" Spitelout greeted enthusiastically, though I was still wary. I had to make sure no eyes spotted me walking into Spitelout's home, lest I make Stoick suspicious.

"No, thank you though. These last few days have put me on edge and I don't feel like getting drunk is a smart idea right now…" I responded honestly enough.

As I stepped inside and took a seat, I noticed that there were faces other than the Jorgensons there. I spotted a few heads of different Jorgenson households, but I also spotted others. Mane Thornston, who co-headed the Thornston clan with his brother Meda, was seated but Meda was conspicuously absent. There were also some lesser members of the Ingermans, but I suspected the real leadership of the Ingermans supported Stoick. Thankfully, I spotted no Hoffersons here, which means my family is either with the chief or undeclared.

"Let's skip the formalities, since I know you don't have the patience for them either. Astrid, Stoick is tearing this island apart. He's…unhinged, and we don't think he is fit for leadership. Despite that, though, many villagers aren't willing to oppose him either out of duty or fear, and we don't want to start a war. We think that we may have a solution, though." Spitelout said. It seemed obvious to me that this speech had been prepared beforehand by the members of the room, as no one deviated from looking at me while Spitelout spoke.

I didn't like where this was going already.

"And…what solution would that be?" I asked as politely (and innocently) as I could.

"We understand that this couldn't be easy for you, but if you publically supported us, we think that the village would unite against Stoick. Obviously, that isn't ideal, but we wouldn't have pulled you here to ask this of you if we weren't out of options."

"Th-that's not something I can do, Spitelout! You should know better; I'm a Shieldmaiden! I'm sworn to serve the chief, not usurp him!" I protested loudly, hoping that Spitelout would accept that I wanted to decline out of honor and not because I didn't agree with him.

"I know that, Astrid. I know that as a Shieldmaiden, you are dedicated to doing whatever is best for Berk. I know that you've prepared yourself for any possible situation that you would need to protect us from, but this isn't an easy choice of duty. You don't serve him, Astrid; you serve the people of this village, right? If everyone in the village wanted Stoick gone, would you raise your axe against the entire village just out of duty to one man?" Spitelout countered, very clearly prepared for this conversation. My mind raced for some thread of reason in Spitelout's speech that I could use to worm my way out of this situation.

There is one, though. Not one I can think of in time, at least. I can either agree with Spitelout, as which point rumors will spread and Stoick will hear, or disagree and ensure that the Jorgensons and their allies know where I stand.

Damn Hiccup for forcing me into this!

"I just…I…" I sputtered, suddenly more nervous than I would have thought possible in someone's living room, and had to take a breath before giving a coherent answer. "That's not a decision I feel comfortable making, Sir. If I am the last one in the village supporting Stoick, then it would be worth considering…but right now, I feel I would only do more harm than good."

I tried to be as polite as possible to avoid stepping on toes. The problem is, in politics, 'polite neutral' always causes passive-aggression.

Which is preferable to actual aggression, but still not ideal.

Members of the hall displayed a varied set of emotions, but anger and disappointment were by far the most common. Spitelout, to his credit, hid is feelings well.

"Alright, Astrid. I suppose we can't fault Astrid the Faithful for her blind faith, now can we?"

Spitelout just didn't hide his feelings well enough.

I nodded, and swiftly rose to leave, wishing desperately to put distance between myself and the Jorgenson War Party. Fortunately, Spitelout had planned the meeting for lunch time, when everyone else would be busy eating. Vikings really are such simple creatures; if you don't want them to notice you, wait till they are busy eating.

The mostly empty village square felt like a haven compared to literally anywhere else on Berk at the moment. She knew that Hiccup was always somewhere in those woods, or behind buildings, or in the shadows, or the skies, but he wasn't standing out in the open. No one was at the moment, and Astrid found a great comfort in that feeling.

Astrid closed her eyes and just stood in the empty street, absorbing what warmth the sun could give and relishing this moment of bliss.

That is, until kids ran by screaming about an attack at the ring.

The Ring. The ARENA.

Hiccup must have made his move, Astrid realized, and began to sprint towards the Arena. When she got there, she realized that Gobber must have been training the young ones through lunch as the kids that didn't go running for help were all surrounding Gobber. The scene was almost funny at first: Gobber's peg leg had been stolen, and someone had gotten his sword-hand accessory stuck deep within the stone wall of the arena.

Astrid sprinted down the ramp into the arena, and as she approached Gobber the situation's humor vanished. Gobber was being supported by the imbedded sword because he was unconscious, with a knot on his head and blood coming out of a stomach wound. Worse still, the weapon that had caused the wound was still stuck in him, and Astrid gasped when she realized what it was: Snotlout's broken sword. The same one that had been found in Hiccup's charred decoy body. The same one that Stoick associated with the murder of his son.

Now Gobber's life was hanging on a limb from the same weapon. Thinking quickly, she ran up and yanked Gobber's body free from the wall and laid him on the ground, all while dispatching another kid to get Goethi. Astrid knew that taking the broken sword out would increase blood loss, but she was afraid that Stoick would see the weapon and make a connection.

There was a booming roar of outcry from the top of the arena, and Astrid knew it wouldn't matter if she hid the sword; Stoick was already here, and she could hear his booming footsteps as he bounded down the ramp. Soon, a large crowd had formed around the arena and the Goethi had been fetched.

It was only a matter of seconds between the time that Goethi pulled out the sword stump and Stoick rushed off in a fit of rage. In those few seconds, Astrid could see the wheels turning in Stoick's head…

The Jorgensons and all their allies had been missing from lunch.

The sword hilt was the same one that killed Hiccup.

Stoick didn't need any other proof than that, and the crowd parted as he came through no matter whose side they were on. No one was stopping Stoick right now.

But everyone, save for those few of us trying desperately to stabilize Gobber, followed.

When I finally got free of helping Goethi, I sprinted towards the crowd. It had only been twenty seconds, but in that time there was no way to know how many people could have died. As I ran towards the crowd I realized that there was no way in Hel I was going to be able to push my way through, so I climbed a nearby house to get a better vantage point.

I was powerless to stop anything, but I had a kick-ass view. And sure enough, Hiccup appeared next to me just as the carnage was about to start. I sunk low into a sitting position, and I didn't even flinch when he whispered form behind me.

"Well, hi there, fancy seeing you here! So, uh, how's the peace business treating you?" He mocked. Or maybe it was just sarcasm. I didn't notice. I was sick to my stomach, knowing that whatever Stoick was about to do might be irreversible.

Stoick didn't disappoint, either. The crowd had gathered around Goethi's hut, where I could tell Stoick was inside by his angry yells and the fact that the whole fragile hut was shaking.

A realization dawned across me, causing me to gasp; Hiccup noticed this and must have known what I just thought of.

"Oh, yes, Goethi and the entourage protecting her and Snotlout went to the arena to save Gobber…leaving a paralyzed Snotlout defenseless."

Surely enough, Stoick emerged dragging Snotlout by his head, letting his body flop and scrape all the way down the steps from the hut and continue to drag until Stoick reached one of the large wooden posts that supported our braziers.

The crowd continued to circle, not even Spitelout or his allies calling out a word.

"FROM NOW ON, THIS IS HOW IT WORKS: REBELLION, INSURGANCE, NONCOMPLIANCE, AND DISOBEYING ORDERS WILL BRAND YOU AS A TRAITOR!" Stoick yelled furiously at anyone and everyone. As he whipped his body from side to side to yell at the whole crowd, he continued to drag and fling Snotlout by the head. "AND THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO TRAITORS!"

As Stoick finished his vehement roar, he held Snotlout up against the base of the post, and drove the broken sword straight through his chest, deep enough to pierce the metal base of the pole and drive into the wood underneath. His might drove the hand-guard into Snotlout's chest cavity, leaving only half of the handle to stick out. For good measure, he spun the hilt sideways, so that the hand-guard damaged whatever was inside.

When he stood back, Snotlout's body still hung against the pole.