Heather Together Chapter 8

When they arrived at Berk, Mr. and Mrs. Ketilsson's first wish was for a decent breakfast, which they got. Their second wish was for a comfortable place to rest and reorganize themselves, so Stoick turned them over to Spitelout's wife, who managed the village's guest house. But before they parted company for the day, they had to tell Stoick everything about their rescue.

He questioned Heather about it later, to make sure he was getting all the facts. That night, when Hiccup was preparing to head upstairs, Stoick pulled his son aside. "That was quite an operation you pulled off last night," he said. "It took planning, fast thinking, and real courage. Where were the rest of your friends?"

"They didn't want to go," he answered.

Stoick scowled at that. "Well, I'm impressed, Hiccup. I can see that your killing that Red Death dragon wasn't a one-time fluke. You really are a warrior, and you're quickly becoming a man." He took a deep breath. "It's time to think about the next big step in becoming a man, son."

"What's that, Dad? Learning to burp at the table?"

"No, your cousin Snotlout can teach you that any time. I'm talking about you taking a wife."

"A WIFE?" Hiccup's voice broke. "You mean, married? You mean... yikes! Dad, I'm not ready! I'm not old enough for that! Am I?"

"You're plenty old enough, by Viking standards," the chief explained. "All your friends are old enough; I'm surprised none of them have made an engagement yet. Back in my day, you'd all be married by now, and some of the girls would be getting round in the belly." Hiccup squirmed at that thought, but his father went on.

"Hiccup, I've probably told you this before, but I have to be sure you understand. As the only son of your village chief, you're going to be much sought-after by a lot of parents who are looking for the prestige, influence, and money that come with joining our family. Once word gets out that I'm wife-shopping for you, their daughters are going to line up to impress you. Luckily for you, you don't have to decide which one to spend the rest of your life with. That's my responsibility.

"It's my job to pick out a bride for you who will be the best for the tribe first, for our family line second, and for you third. Marrying for love is one of those modern ideas that you, as future chief of Berk, can't afford. You're welcome to fall in love after you're married, if you think you should, but love can't be your reason for marriage.

"I know you've been sweet on the Hofferson girl ever since you found out she was a girl. She wouldn't be a bad match – she has all the Viking virtues, and her family has an old and honorable line. I'd speak to Gunnarr Hofferson tomorrow, if your preference was all that mattered. In fact, I just might. But I have to consider the whole picture. I can not promise you that you'll get the wife you want. You need to prepare yourself for that possibility.

"I'm not like some fathers who sit their sons down with no warning and say, 'Congratulations, you're engaged!' I'm giving you a little time to think about it before I make that decision. It won't change anything, but you'll be a little less stunned when I give you the news.

"Any questions, son?"

"Son?"

Hiccup shook himself. "Sorry, Dad. I'm having trouble wrapping my head around this whole idea. I mean, I haven't even started growing a beard yet, and you're talking about me becoming somebody's husband! It might be somebody I don't even know! How can you... how can you get that personal with a total stranger?"

"Hiccup... this kind of talking is hard for me," Stoick said softly. "The first time I met your mother was when her parents came to my father's house to show him the dowry. She was from another tribe on another island; I'd never seen her before in my life. She was beautiful... and she scared the daylights out of me! I don't think I managed to say two words to her, the entire hour she was there. She didn't try to talk to me, either. I thought she wanted nothing to do with me; maybe she even hated me. She told me later, she was just as scared as I was. You know we wound up very happy together, but we sure didn't start that way." He sighed at the memory.

"We Vikings have been doing it like this for generations. It always seems awkward and uncomfortable, but it results in peace treaties between warring tribes, strong alliances between families, and marriages that generally hold together for life. Romance is overrated; stability is what matters. Stability in the home, stability within the tribe, stability across all the tribes.

"I'll do the best I can for you, son. Just remember, if you don't get someone you would have chosen, it's your duty to go through with it anyway. Deal?"

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "Deal. Oh, and Dad? This might be the best father-son talk we ever had."

"Really?" His father's face lit up. "Maybe I should get you engaged more often! Well, get some sleep, son. Tomorrow might be a busy day." Hiccup trudged up the steps to his room.

Marriage! Husband! Engagement! Wife! Stability! Duty! The words swirled endlessly in his head, unable to find a place to rest. Get some sleep, he thought. Sure, Dad, that's easy for you to say. All you have to do is make a business deal. I'm the one who has to deal with the results for the rest of my life.

I don't want to marry anybody for a few years, but I guess that choice is off the menu.

If I had to choose someone today, it would have to be Astrid. She's everything I've ever wanted. Even if she is mad at me.

If I couldn't have her... I just don't want to think about that. He didn't sleep well that night.

He had trouble staying focused in the forge the next day. It wasn't that he was distracted on the inside. He kept getting distracted by the parade of girls who were stopping by the forge to watch him work. Girls who had never shown a shred of interest in metalwork were asking about what he was doing; girls who were barely on the edge of womanhood were staring shamelessly at him; and leading the pack was Ruffnut, who found excuses to visit several times during the day. Her intentions were obvious – even he couldn't miss the way she licked her lips every time he glanced up at her.

Dad did something this morning in the way of wife-hunting for me, and the word is out, he decided. News travels fast in a small town, but this was ridiculous.

The last straw was when Snotlout stopped by. "Hey, you lucky chick magnet!" He dropped his voice to a near-whisper. "If you don't want any of those babes who are throwing themselves at you, maybe you could point a couple of 'em in my direction? You know, put in a good word for your good old cousin Snotlout, and remind them of how handsome and available I am?"

"That does it!" Hiccup shouted. "Gobber, as soon as I finish these lantern brackets, I am done for the day! I've got some urgent business elsewhere." He finished his work as quickly as he could, put away his tools, and stalked off in search of his father. What has he done to me? he demanded mentally.

People in town watched him walk by with unusual interest. He overheard a lot of "tisk, tisk's" and "what a shame's" as he stormed around the village. He finally found his dad at home, which was an unusual place for him at that time of day.

"Son, sit down. There's something I have to tell you." He hadn't seen his father that sober-looking in a very long time. He sat down.

"I went to visit Gunnarr Hofferson this morning," he began. "I asked him if he would consider a marriage between you and his daughter."

"Hiccup, he... he refused us." Hiccup didn't hear most of the rest. His eyes went blurry and his ears were roaring. He heard something about how Astrid would rather run away from home than marry him, but the bulk of his father's words just didn't register.

Astrid doesn't want me. I'm in love with her and she doesn't want me.

Stoick rested a huge hand on Hiccup's shoulder, startling him. "I'm sorry, son. I did the best I could for you. If you have a second choice, now would be a good time to tell me."

What do I do now? Hiccup felt panic rising. I'll have to marry someone who isn't Astrid! What do I do now?

"Dad, I..." He couldn't even complete the sentence. "...I need some fresh air." He staggered to the door and stepped outside.

Someone was waiting for him there, gazing at him curiously. "Toothless! Buddy, do you know what? I need to go flying, and I need the wildest, craziest, scariest ride you can give me!" Hiccup sometimes wondered how well Toothless understood Old Norse, but there was no communication gap today. The dragon nearly threw Hiccup out of his saddle twice. His riding straps actually stretched, to the point that he had to replace them the next day. By the time they were done, Hiccup had been spun, plunged, and flung around so violently that he had no appetite for supper. It actually made him feel a little better, somehow.

He headed for the Mead Hall as the rest of the village was leaving. He had to find Astrid. He had to talk to her.

He didn't find her there; apparently she'd eaten early and already left. He did bump into his other friends, though. Fishlegs had the decency to keep quiet, and Snotlout could only think of himself. Leave it to Tuffnut to twist the dagger in his heart.

"Hey, not-lover-boy! For the first time in Viking history, a chief's son got rejected! How does it feel to be in the record books?" Ruff pushed her twin brother's helmet down over his eyes, more out of habit than anything else; her real goal was to catch Hiccup's eye. He just turned sadly and walked away.

If Astrid had eaten early, that could only mean she wanted extra time to fling her weapons around in the woods; he knew her well enough to be sure of that. He also knew where in the woods she could probably be found.

She was making no attempt to hide. Her loud battle cries alternated with the "whack" of her axe sinking into tree trunks. She had just pulled it out when she saw him walking towards her. She pointedly turned her back on him.

"Hi, Astrid." She didn't reply.

"Uhhh... can we talk for a minute?"

She held up her weapon without looking at him. "Talk to the axe, because I'm not listening."

"Astrid, please! This is important! We need to talk!"

"I am not listening to anything you have to say!"

"Why are you doing this?" he begged. "I know I'm not the manliest Viking there ever was, but... please tell me why! Ever since we were kids, you were the only one I ever wanted!"

She turned and stalked toward him, her anger visibly rising. "You want to know why? Okay, I'll tell you why!" She backed him up until he was caught between her and a large tree. "Ever since I was a kid, the only thing I ever wanted was to place first in Dragon Training! That was my dream. And you took it from me! You didn't even want it for yourself – you just took it away from me! So do you know what?"

She stuck her face right into his and hissed, "Neither of us is going to get what we really want! You broke my dream, so I'm breaking yours!"

She backed off and turned away, arms folded. "That is my final answer. Take your fancy bride-price, and go buy off some other chicklet who loves your father's money. It sounds like there's plenty of them to choose from. But you are never laying a finger on me. Got that?"

"Astrid, the money has nothing to do with it! Please, let me try to –"

She whirled to face him once more, her face a seething mask of rage. "Am I not speaking clearly? Which part of 'no' don't you understand? Nein, nyet, non, manapuni! It means NO!" She turned and ran deeper into the forest before he could utter another word.

Just like that, he was alone.

o

He found himself on the docks, watching the dark waves kick up spray against the lighthouse rocks as the sun dipped below the horizon. He wasn't sure how he got there; he must have been wandering aimlessly for some time. The harbor was deserted, except for the night harbor-master, who left him alone. That was a good thing. He felt a black, aching void inside, almost as bad as the day his mother died, and he didn't want anyone around. "Alone" was how he'd always dealt with life's harsh blows.

When he heard someone walking slowly down the docks toward him, he didn't even look to see who it was. He just kept staring out to sea. Whoever it was, he or she stopped just behind him and said nothing for a minute.

"You really must be hurting," she finally said.

"Heather, would you mind leaving me alone for a few more minutes?"

"Do you really want to be alone, or is that just what you're accustomed to?"

He turned to face her. Hers was the first female face he'd seen all day that wasn't either predatory or full of pity. She really looked concerned for him. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked softly.

He shook his head and started to turn away again. She rested a hand on his shoulder for just a moment, then withdrew it. But her touch sparked something inside him. He faced her for the time it took to draw a breath, then flung his arms around her and clung to her as though he might die if he let go.

She returned the embrace. He'd never held anyone this tightly before. I am not going to cry, he told himself. I am not going to cry. He was shaking, and he knew she could feel it.

"If you need to cry, it's okay," she whispered. "I understand."

He didn't cry, not out loud, not really. But he wet her shoulder with silent tears, and a few loud sobs did escape him. She made no attempt to end the embrace until he finally let her go. Even then, she took his hands in hers and didn't let him walk away.

"If you need me for anything, you know where I'm staying," she said earnestly. "Anything at all. Your heart is safe with me. I hope you know that."

"Thanks, Heather. I appreciate that."

"I'll always be there for you if you want me, Hiccup," she whispered. "Always." Then she dropped his hands and walked back to the ramps that led up to the village.

He stared after her. The aching black void inside him was being filled with thoughts he'd never considered before. He had to talk about this with someone.

He didn't have the slightest idea who.

Then he did know who. But it might turn out to be the most awkward conversation he'd ever had.

o

A/N "Nein, nyet, non" mean "no" in modern German, Russian, and French, all languages that the Vikings would have encountered, if those languages had existed at that time. "Manapuni" means "absolutely never" in Quechua, a South American language that no Viking ever heard.