V for Viking
Author's Note: What's that, you thought this story was abandoned? It's been inactive for like 5 months? Well how about two chapters in two nights, huh? That work for you? :D
Chapter 7
Stupid. Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid.
I should have known better. I thought I could use Hiccup's own arrogance against him. I thought I had figured him out, and could predict his move. All I did was show that he knows me much better than I thought. He knew that I wouldn't forget the hints he gave me. He knew that I knew his next move involved the arena and Stoick. He played my fears too well. I thought for sure he was going to attack Stoick in the arena, which meant that he would have had to ensure Stoick make it to the arena. I was wrong.
Stoick wasn't his target. It was his weapon. Snotlout ended up as the target, and because of the horrible way it went down, the village might be too far gone for me to stop a war.
I'm not one to drink in a time of crisis, but since I'm waiting for Stoick's War Room meeting to start, I might as well. I'm going to need a few; maybe it will make me a little more unpredictable.
After Stoick nailed Snotlout to a post, he basically instituted martial law. He told everyone to go home and stay there for the rest of the day, and 'think about what you really want to do next.'
Currently, everyone that is close enough to Stoick to be considered important to him is gathered in the Great Hall, waiting for Stoick to come back in. No one has said a word, and other than the sound of me pouring and downing two meads, the Hall has been silent.
And I'm really thinking about a third one right now.
Before I had a chance to get any more, Stoick came marching through the doors. Everyone rose and formed a ring around the large map table that is usually used for planning Nest hunts, except now Stoick grabbed a large map from underneath the table and spread it over the top of the nautical map. It was a wide, accurately scaled map of Berk; but this wasn't a typical village outlay. This map had been designed with the purpose of taking and defending Berk from ground forces, originally for back when the Outcasts were a major threat. It was revised and updated again during the Archipelago War not long ago, though we never had to fight on Berk.
Stoick leaned against the table with both arms, hands laid flat on the map (in the ocean section so as not to block anything), and he just stared at it. Contemplating. Planning. Thinking. While most great Vikings could fell dragons and warriors with a single blow, it was a rare and powerful kind of Viking that was blessed with tactical genius. Every Viking is good at tactics, since we leave and breathe battle, but Stoick was set apart by the depths of genius he had displayed during the War. It was the kind of thing that would come in extremely helpful in my fight to prove Hiccup wrong, and while I'm no slouch at it, I can't contend with the Haddock line.
"Other than to piss me off and declare a feud, killing Gobber accomplishes nothing…" Stoick grunted loud enough for everyone to hear, still not taking his eyes of the center of the map.
"He didn't die, Stoick. But he'll be injured for a while." Someone called out, whether to correct Stoick or attempt to put him at ease. Stoick didn't even seem to acknowledge the comment for a while.
"Then they failed, but they still tried. It changes nothing. Why Gobber?" That last part was an open-ended question that anyone who could answer was free to do so. Many chiefs were arrogant enough to not want to hear others suggestions, but Stoick had no place for arrogance when a war was brewing. The best solution is the best solution, and it doesn't matter who says it; it was a policy that few others employed and it had helped Stoick grow even more popular among his warriors.
It was one of the reasons I rose so quickly; I may have had one or two good ideas in the past.
"E'eryone knows the two of you are close, Stoick. Gobber normally would be standing next to you. This may just be a plain assassination in an attempt to gain an upper hand." A man said from the side. I recognized him as Meda Thornston, the co-head of the Thornston clan that was absent from Spitelout's home earlier.
It appears that siblings taking opposing sides is common in that household, then.
"This was the first move of a Feud, Meda. Give Spitelout and your brother some credit; they wouldn't have chosen just any opening attack." Stoick replied, not convinced that Gobber's attack meant so little.
"What about weapons?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. I guess I can attribute that to the mead, though two pints doesn't usually make me lose control of myself. Usually.
"What are you saying, Astrid?" Stoick asked. He must think that I was on to something, and now I've got to ad-lib based on my semi-drunk confession.
"…well…Gobber is the village's only smith, and if there's gonna be fighting…we need weapons. Without Gobber, who would have been only on our side-" I was cut off as the idea started turning inside Stoick's head.
"They're trying to keep us under-armed! Of course, supply line warfare! Why didn't I think o' it? Send for a standing guard to be put on the armory, and make sure that the men are loyal!" Stoick shouted to no one in particular. Fortunately, we have plenty of Vikings who are looking to prove their loyalty and a buzz of activity filled the room.
"That won't do anything, Stoick. Those weapons have been locked up too long; it's just a pile of blunt, rusty steel. We're a Viking village; any weapon worth using is either in someone's hands, homes, or at the forge!" I hollered. Stoick's eyes lit up and he quickly agreed with my assumption. Besides, the armory is in the back of the Hall, and if Spitelout makes it all the way back there, then he'll have already cut down everyone in his path.
"Aye, she's right! GATHER AROUND ME! WE'RE GOING TO THE FORGE, NOW!"
Like that, everyone drew whatever weapon they had with them and followed after Stoick quickly, and they all knew that there could be the first of many battles waiting for them.
It gave me a chance to be alone for a few moments. I relished it, despite the last time I had a moment like this Gobber was attacked and Snotlout died. Right now, my head was still reeling from the events that had happened earlier and the two pints of mead, while well needed at the time, are now making it more difficult to sort through my thoughts.
Hiccup is winning. He's close to having won. The village is on the brink of war, and it seems too late to stop that from happening. If I'm going to prove Hiccup even slightly wrong, if there is any chance for me to change his mind, then I'm going to need this war to end in a surrender or truce; if there is a final, bloody battle where only those left standing are the victors, then Hiccup will have gotten what he wants. And with the influence over the fucking dragons, there's no way Hiccup would let those last few Vikings live.
I shook my head violently to try to shake myself free of my stupor. Now isn't a time to sit and think about how badly I've handled things so far; I should be out there, making sure Stoick doesn't do anything stupid. He just took an armed party to the middle of the village square and I didn't even think to go with him?
Hiccup is inside my head. He's throwing me off. Every time I make a move I'm paralyzed by the fear that I'm either making things worse or doing what Hiccup wants me to.
Something needs to change, and I don't know exactly what that is, it I can start by getting off my ass and following Stoick.
I raced out the door but by the time I did Stoick was already coming back up the steps with a furious look on his face. This wasn't his 'someone is about to die' look, but his 'someone foiled me and now I'm not going easy' face. I quickly stepped out of the way and then followed him back into the Hall. Before I made it back in, I noticed smoke in the corner of my eye, coming from the direction of the forge.
"What happened?" I whispered to the next closest person, who had been keeping about 15 steps away from Stoick.
"Forge was ablaze long before we got there. There'll be no new weapons or weapon repairs for anyone." He answered quietly so as to not draw attention from Stoick. "And there were no shiny objects within the flames, so that means the Jorgensons must have taken the weapons."
I wondered, for a split second, whether the fire was Hiccup's doing or the Jorgensons, but it doesn't matter. Either way, tensions have risen even further and there is less that I can do.
Once everyone had finally filed back into their spots around Stoick, he broke his intense stare at the map to slam his fist on the table.
"Send criers out to every street and have them declare that there is officially a Feud between the Haddocks and Jorgensons. From this moment on, you're either with me or against me…" Stoick spoke in a low, angry voice.
I went pale. I knew that war was inevitable, but hearing it declared by Stoick was still chilling.
"Astrid…" I flinched when Stoick called my name. He must have seen me go pale and thought that I was opposed to the war (which is technically true) and unlike Hiccup Stoick doesn't have a propensity to keep me alive during his violent outrages. "…This village is going to be split down the middle in way that it's never seen before. We need to do everything we can to keep this from being an even split; the less people Spitelout can sway, the less bloodshed will stain our homes."
Stoick did not seem angry at all. He seemed like he was trying to reason with me. Like he wanted me to do something…
Actually, it felt very similar to my talk with Spitelout earlier.
"I agree, we need to do everything we can to avoid bloodshed, Sir." I responded, choosing every word with extreme care. And of course I had to go and gulp down mead before this…
If Stoick noticed how precise and delicate my answer was, he didn't let on. That being said, it was extremely difficult to match his gaze when he shifted it up from the map.
"Astrid the Faithful has a lot of sway with the neutral clans of Berk. They have always seen you as a competent and level-headed leader, and you gained their trust these last few days by keeping whatever semblance of peace Spitelout would allow. Astrid, we can't afford any of those neutral clans to side with Spitelout…" he trailed off expectantly, as if he anticipated that I would figure out his plan and bring it up as my own.
I did pick up on his plan. It was the same one that Spitelout had tried.
"What would you have me do, Sir? I am already a shield maiden to Berk; everyone knows that."
"I know, that's why this is easy. You're already bound by honor to the village, Astrid. This is the best thing to do; we have to crush the Jorgensons before they turn the Feud into a War. I need you to publically declare your allegiance to me and encourage others to do the same! That's a move that Spitelout can't foil!" Stoick finished proudly to many hollers and fists pounded on tables. He didn't even notice my apprehension; it was as if whatever I thought was irrelevant…
Normally he would be right, but something about this seemed wrong to me. Something Spitelout had said earlier stuck with me, try though as I did to ignore his words.
What if the whole village is against Stoick? Would they follow a madman if he had my support? Should I throw my weight in with Spitelout, or declare neutrality?
My mind raced as hard is it could; it would only take a few seconds before Stoick would notice that I wasn't cheering with the men, and then a confrontation would take place. What is Hiccup trying to force me into here? What would he suspect?
I don't think he knows what I'd pick because I don't. He gave me three equally bad choices that are all losing scenarios for me. Side with Spitelout and lose my honor as I overthrow the Chief, side with Stoick and wipe out a clan without knowing if Stoick is fit to lead, or stay neutral and piss them both off, possibly being cast out by both sides.
At least if I pick neutrality, anyone who would look to me wouldn't chose a side. They would have to pick for themselves, so my choice would do the least amount of damage.
"What's wrong, Astrid?" Stoick asked pointedly. The room went silent, all eyes falling to me.
I eyed my escape route to the door—unblocked, should I need it—before giving my answer.
"Sir… As you said, I am already pledged as a shield maiden. Any other declarations I make would only undermine my oath, and that is not something I am willing to do. I am willing to fight to keep this village and this tribe safe, and my actions should mean more than my words ever could.
"I don't appreciate you trying to undermine or question my loyalty, Sir." I threw in that last part mainly so I could pretend to storm out angrily, giving me a convenient excuse to put some distance between Stoick and myself, just in case.
As I got outside, I noticed that the sun had already set. So much had happened that I had forgotten what time it was. I decided I needed time to think, so I decided to go into the woods to practice my axe throws.
During my walk, I began to ponder my next move. Hiccup had masterfully pinned me in a corner now. If Stoick took my refusal as an act of rebellion, then I was alone in my quest to stop a war. One man may have started this war, but it would take more than one to stop it.
I need to do something Hiccup wouldn't expect. In all the old war stories about clever leaders who outsmarted their enemies, there came a point where they decided they needed to be unpredictable. They had to make a move that no one saw coming. What those stories didn't tell you is how stressed those leaders must have been, knowing that everything rational they had tried wasn't working. Those stories also never mentioned how difficult it is to think of something 'unpredictable.'
I mean, seriously, its freaking hard! You have to think an entirely different way, which is not easy, and then you have to do it under the crushing weight of what you are up against (which for me is particularly stressful)! Those stupid stories don't help you—
My thoughts were cut off by a high pitched whistle, the kind usually used to get someone's attention. As I broke out of my stupor I looked around for what would have made the sound, and then realized where I was. I had taken the most direct path to the woods, which had led me between some halls.
In a perfect place for an ambush. In the near darkness, I couldn't tell if anyone was there as I frantically scanned around me. Eventually, a voice pierced the silence above me, from the roofs of one of the halls.
"SHIT!" The voice called as it realized it lost the element of surprise, and the person attempted to jump down on top of me.
I dove out the way just in time as a sword drove into the ground where I had just been standing. Still on the ground, I kicked back and caught my attacker in the stomach, sending them stumbling backwards into a barrel.
"OWW! Why you little…!"
I recognized the voice. It was someone I had broken up a fight with the other day.
"TUFFNUT! What are you DOING?!" I yelled furiously.
"You should have sided with the Jorgensons!" He yelled as he charged me again, though this time I was ready. Despite not being able to draw my axe in time, I was confident in my victory, and Tuffnut was visibly worried.
He slashed straight down, not wasting any time with set-up swings, and in the narrow alley I had just enough room to jump right of his sword. I used my momentum to jump into then kick off the wall, leading my weight into a nasty right-hook that spun him around once and left him dazed. He attempted to lash out with his sword but was just clumsily swinging it, and I charged up and easily took it from him. In one swift motion, I grabbed him arm and yanked the weapon away before spinning and sticking it straight through him. He hadn't been wearing any armor or chainmail, likely to keep quiet, and now that would be the last nail in his coffin.
I took a few steps back and had to keep my hands from shaking. Tuffnut tumbled over sideways, blood quickly soaking the front of his shirt and the dirt underneath him.
I had killed someone I grew up with, someone who was a friend. They had tried to kill me for disagreeing with them!
I turned to run out of the alleyway, and by happenstance found Ruffnut walking down the street. She rushed over to me when she saw the look of panic on my face (and Tuff's blood on my clothes).
"Oh gods, Astrid! What happened!?"
"I-I don't know! Tuffnut tried to…he tried to kill me! Just because I wouldn't join them…" Suddenly, I realized that this was her brother I had killed, and I felt I needed to justify myself. "I swear, Ruff, he just attacked me out of nowhere! I was defending myself, I promise!"
I turned to point at where Tuff had jumped from the roof, but Ruffnut didn't need to hear it.
"It's okay, Astrid. I believe you. Tuff's been…confused about things, I guess..." She replied solemnly, but with a hint of nervousness.
Nervousness? Why would she be nervous at the sight of her dead brother?
She wouldn't. She would be nervous seeing what I did to another assassin!
I spun around and, sure enough, Ruffnut had drawn a long dagger and raised it into the air, and I just barely had time to parry her arms before she brought it down into my neck! With her arm now over my shoulder and my back still mostly to her, I yanked the dagger from her hand and spun, just as I had for Tuffnut, and stabbed her in her lower abdomen. It wouldn't be a killing blow, but I knew I couldn't let her call out for help; she could have others waiting by in case she needed help killing me.
I frowned, knowing what I had to do next. I yanked the dagger out of her stomach, and her hands went down to clutch the wound has she began to stumble back in shock. With on quick swipe across her neck, the dagger slit her throat and I yanked her back into the alley and shoved her onto Tuffnut's body to finish bleeding out.
With that done, I tossed the dagger from me and slunk to my knees, now inexplicably tired and freaked out by the feeling of being soaked in the blood of my friends. It was a perverse, haunting feeling that made my stomach sick. One thought took some of the pain away, and that was that as long as this bothered me I wouldn't become Hiccup.
I wonder if Hiccup had known about this. That the Jorgensons and Stoick would both send someone after me, that they'd do it at the same time of day, and that they'd basically send the same person.
I looked at the two bodies in front of me, one having been a supporter of Stoick and the other a supporter of Spitelout. Both of them now sporting mortal wounds. The sight was grotesque.
And it also gave me an idea. Something Hiccup wouldn't expect.
I had just claimed a victory over both Spitelout and Stoick. They both tried and failed to kill me because I was a threat. Hiccup has been trying to force me into one side of the conflict, or get me out of the conflict all together by feigning neutrality.
I have no doubts that Hiccup was the one who whistled to alert me to my attackers. It would ruin his sadistic game if I died now.
If only he knew that he just gave me an idea he can't predict.
I'm going to rally my own supporters. I'm going to make sure that Stoick and Spitelout hear me by speaking their language. I'm going to become a threat to both of them. I'm going to undermine their power and grow my own. I'm going to stabilize the island all while making certain I can trust the person in charge.
I'm going to make this a three-way war for Berk.