In which a different household has a different sort of domestic bliss, and Hiccups' corny cheesiness comes to light …

Berkian Eddur - 2

Winter in Líf's Holt

Chapter 3 - Surrounded

I was surrounded by friends, my work was immense, and pleasures were abundant. Life, now, was unfolding before me, constantly and visibly, like the flowers of summer that drop fanlike petals on eternal soil.

― Roman Payne.

Fishlegs gratefully put the keg down, taking a moment to lean backwards against the dragon that was sitting just behind his bench. Meatlug was snoring lightly, tired from all the heavy lifting, but at least, this morning they had completed three of the six halls they were preparing for their visitors. Even though the dragon peace had taken hold nearly three months ago, it had not been enough time to get out of practice; they were used to it. It used to be old village, lots and lots of new houses.

As per Stoick's orders, the halls for the Meatheads, and UglyThugs and the Bog women had been erected first, and only the ones for Hopeless, the Trollguts and the Berserker tribes were left to do, and the foundations for those were lain at that. All down his table were the rowdy Ingermann men, together with the lumberjacks and Gobber. Hiccup hadn't come back in - probably either at home or in the arena, or out with Toothless. Or maybe with Astrid…

Fishlegs took another sip, making a mental note to ask his friend how things were going in that department. As a married man, now, he was positive that he had at least 58% more advice to give Hiccup than any of the other men their age, and that though Hiccup was undoubtedly versed in the art of … being with women, by now, with all his travels, there was something to be said about having a wife.

Once one got used to her very grabby hands, that was.

Chuckling at the memory, Fishlegs was distracted by a sudden burst of raucous laughter down his table. Perking up, he noticed that Hoark - and his nightmare - seemed to be telling an amusing story.

"...and there he was, covered in honey and angry bees, looking mighty pleased with himself!" Everyone around the table laughed as the nightmare held his head high, still more than a little puff-chested at whatever it was. "My little Buttermilk has never wanted for honey since. Up he gets and goes get it for her whenever she cries like the wee bairn she is; don't you boy!" The green nightmare gave a confirming puff of smoke through its nostrils, looking as smug as any lizard could and sending the table into another round of loud guffaws and table slapping.

"Aye, amazing creatures, they is," said another man - ah, Odarr the Oddhead. "Never know how we managed without them before. Just the other day, I was carrying my cart full of whale oil barrels, and off one of them goes, tumbling off the cart and off a cliff. If my dear nadder hadn't gone after it, I'd have wasted a third of the afternoon's work, and then we'd be short of oil by the Winter's end."

"Hear hear, to think we hunted these poor bastards," Hoark said, reaching up to scratch his nightmare, who purred and simply looked at Hoark adoringly. The Viking snickered, bringing the dragon's head nearer for a rub.

"And I owe you three chickens, by the way," Bilge said, waving his keg at another of the group - Knob the limber carrier. "My wife is going to tan my hide until it's see-through for it, but a wager's a wager, that it is."

"What's this about a wager no one's let poor old Gobber in on?" the blacksmith asked, looking beadily at them. Bilge laughed.

"Knob and I had an argument last week on how smart they is, these lizards. See, he said they were plenty smart enough to be par with a six year old, and you know that's my own Gunthar's age. So we shake on it that I'll get my zippleback to do all the chores Gunther does, and see how well they follow instructions. The wife and I, we go out there, tell our heads what to do, and my little boy looks on mighty pleased as they do all his chores for him. Now I'm in trouble, because he wants one of his own, and Master Hiccup said he wasn't letting anyone into training that wasn't at least 8 years old."

"Aye. reasonable enough. That's the age I gave my eldest, Dragonfly, her very own axe." Hoark said with a nod. "Wanted to be just like her mother, that lass."

"I suppose, but it's made me really think," Bilge replied, and once the obligatory jeers were out of the way about how thinking was dangerous, he shook his head almost sadly. "I've seen Master Hiccup's night fury with the children, and your nightmare now with the honey … All these years, generations even - but they be nothing more than children in their heads."

"Aye," Knob replied. "Hit me hard too, that did, when I realised. But they gave as good as they got, and we got rid of their evil monstrous thing for them. I say we call it square and move forward."

"Ale to that!" Gobber said, holding up his keg-hand. Everying followed and called for more alcohol while Fishlegs reached around to rub Meatlug's nose. His girl had become part of his family, like Ruffnut had birthed twins. The gronkle was so fond of her family that the only times she ever became aggressive was when she thought they were threatened. It had been amusing to see Meatlug thrash the bale of hay she had somehow mistook for a large, unfamiliar dragon, and Ruffnut had certainly enjoyed the show, egging her on. And then his chubby little girl with scales had come up to them, tongue lolling and eyes dilated, looking up expectantly for praise with a look on her face that clearly said, 'look what I did! I saved you all!'

The conversation beside him had moved to the advantages of using plant oil over fish oil to fry mutton when Hiccup slid into the bench beside him with a sigh. Ever present, he was followed by Snotlout and Toothless, Tuffnut bringing up the rear.

"Hey, Fishlegs," Hiccup said in a tired by cheerful voice. Judging by the burns on some of his clothes, and the red, bitten nose Tuffnut was sporting, there was certainly a story behind their afternoon. "We're just back from the arena - we missed you there. Soaptaste took in the new purple gronkle that wandered in from the hills yesterday, and she was asking what was the best way to treat his skin. I usually used yak-fat on Meatlug when I had her, but she's been looking better since she's been with you."

"Oh, thanks Hiccup!" he said happily, and Meatlug gave him a lick. "Just mix the fat with water and vinegar - it seems to work well on those little bugs that get caught between their scales. And I had those wooden brackets you asked for delivered at your hall."

"Brilliant, I'll pass it on; and that's great to hear!" he replied, nodding in thanks to the barmaid, Lauga, as she put down a plate of mutton and gravy in front of him. Then he sighed at the plate. Tuffnut glared at her for some reason. "I'll miss Astrid's food tonight. This just doesn't compare anymore."

Fishlegs listened without interrupting as Snotlout and Tuffnut launched into the various episodes of the 'Disasters in the Kitchen with Astrid', and bringing out his pipe, he filled it thoughtfully at how brightly his friend's eyes shone when Tuffnut starting describing - with rather too much drama - the first attempt she'd made at yak-milk yogurt, and what repercussions it had on anyone eating it. Hiccup turned several shades of green, pushing his mutton towards Snotlout who eagerly stole a few morsels before pushing the plate back towards his cousin.

They were discreet, but Fishlegs was quick enough to note the way in which a few of the surrounding people were looking at Hiccup while he defended Astrid's food, and how Snotlout enjoyed playing the devil's advocate in order to see how red he could get his cousin when his vehemence was pointed out. The village, for obvious reasons, had become irrationally invested in the life of their new hero, and his relationship with his promised had been the topic of dreamy gossip for the girls of the village, as well as speculation and bets by the men. Fishlegs and Ruffnut had stayed out of it (it was only fair; they knew exactly what was going on), but it had been both worrying and entertaining to hear some of the men swear they saw Astrid walk funny, or that Hiccup's eyes lingered on her arse a little too long to be innocent. The large blond snorted, lighting his pipe, and wondered at how now, suddenly, they had time to think on such things, when before every day was a race against time to gather the crops, fish, dry the food, preserve as much as possible, and hide it.

It was a strange place, Fishlegs mused, this village where they were going to be celebrating the Winter holiday with those who only last year had them raising axes with killing intent. There simply wasn't a word to describe how strange and displaced it felt sometimes, when he tried to picture himself this time last year, and then saw himself now, and could not, for the life of him, imagine life on a different Berk. Hiccup was back, smiling happened a lot more often for quite a lot of people, and the dragons had joined their families.

Meatlug rumbled, and he gave her ear a scratch. Taking a puff of his pipe, he started blowing smoke-rings, which Tuffnut and Snotlout instantly began trying to aim through with pebbles, soon to be joined by several of the other men on the table. The men laughed, the women passing by shook their heads in mock exasperation, and the dragons began blowing their own smoke rings to join the fun.

All in all, it was looking to be the best Snoggletog Berk had ever had.

=0=

Ruffnut huffed, rocking Woodnut more gently in her hands than anyone would have thought possible for her just a year ago. Hel, she didn't think it was possible for her to be gentle, and yet look at her. She had turned into a soft, mushy porridge, and her little girl just had to look at her with her big eyes after she was born.

And Fishlegs. And her dragon. It was her fault for collecting gas-monsters. Now she was a mushy porridge.

A mushy porridge who was feeling sorry for her brother, and so was allowing him to bother her and sleep in her hall and spend almost all day with her and Woodnut, when he wasn't hiding in the arena with their dragon.

"Go on then, do it," she challenged, and her brother got that old look of glee in his eyes and ordered his dragon to sit on him, proving that he could take it every bit as much as Snotlout could. She was supposed to keep the time but … she was never really good with numbers - and always very good at outsmarting her brother.

At least it was good to see him smiling that wicked smile of his again. As long as that stupid, worthless woman kept away from him, then there was absolutely no problem; the slut.

She'd had her eye on Ruff's brother since the female twin had gotten married; without her there to deter possible advances, and too busy as she was trying to build her new household, even with Astrid's help, there had been no stopping the hounds for circling the meat. And despite his apparent stupidity, her brother was probably a goodly looking slice of ham to most other girls in the village. He was a warrior, one of Berk's first dragon riders, a close friend of the current hero and coming from the moderately wealthy Thorston clan.

Not that he'd made it easy; Tuff had always been somewhat stupid on girls, probably because of her. Girls were men with boobs to him, pretty much equal and not too interesting. He'd flirted a few times, sure, but it had mostly been posturing, and a none-too-subtle competition with Snotlout, back when he was so much of an ass that Ruffnut often called him Buttlout.

Then Cami had blown everything up around Tuff - quite literally - and suddenly women were an object of interest. Or rather, one woman. And the other girls on Berk had not enjoyed watching another of their prized bachelors be seized up; by a foreigner, no less. One, in particular, had decided to do something about it and come forward with claims of words given and promises made which had painted her poor brother into a corner.

Ruffnut still felt her blood boil at the thought; her stupid parents and her stupid clan had made all the wrong decisions, and they had even made her swear that she would not intervene, swear on her little girl's head. How they would dare enforce any claim they had on her, seeing that she was an Ingermann child, she didn't know, but the Thorstons were fanatical idiots about their honour, and with the Dragon War ended the quest for honour had transferred itself from battle to other spheres; social standing, wealth and marriage. She didn't know what her grandfather would order, and she wasn't about to risk her little girl. The stupid talks of honour and pride and clan duty had often driven her and Tuff out of their minds as youths, and half the yak-tipping episodes had occurred because they wanted to see their grandfather's vain throb against his forehead.

Ruffnut almost wished they'd managed to kill him with the stress. She had gotten a good bargain - her own hall, freedom from the Thorstons, her little gas-monster number two, and a very decent man for a husband. And Tuff's prospects had been so much better, looked so much brighter, just a month ago. But if their stupid, decrepit grandfather would just croak, the problem would at least be partially solved. That their own mother had taken grandfather's side, however, had been unforgivable, and Ruffnut had not spoken to her at all for the past weeks, negotiating with Stoick about revoking her rights as godmother. Asgard knew Astrid deserved it more.

Speak of the devil, just as Tuffnut was beginning to catch on to the fact that his sister had 'forgotten' to keep time, Astrid walked in, looking utterly knackered, followed by Ruff's dear husband. Both of them stopped, staring from the back door of the house to the enclosed paddock beyond where Flat and Fart were affectionately rubbing their chest against a protesting Tuffnut.

"Come on, take it like a man, or Snotlout's better than you!" she egged on.

"No way! Flat, Fart, don't you dare move!"

"Do I dare ask?" Fishlegs said, taking Woodnut out of her arms

"Just trying to cheer him up," she whispered back, a grin on her face. "Astrid, here's your man's vest. Tell him thanks - but wash it before you give it back. I think she had a go at it with her mouth before I could get it away."

The collar was indeed crusty and dried, making Astrid grimace fondly - if such a thing was possible. Children made you do the oddest things. "I'll just say this. I'm just glad tomorrow's washday."

"I'll bet you are," Ruffnut replied, and receiving a kick in the shins for it that was totally worth it. She was going to hear about it tomorrow - but she was so going to ask for details, because Astrid was blushing more than usual.

"I'll bet my man Hiccup is," Tuffnut said with an obscene grin. "Though I'll admit, I don't know why. But I'm getting a generally dirty minded vibe here, and I like it."

"It's not like that, he just likes clean clothes," Astrid protested lamely. Ruff saw Fishlegs hide his face behind his hand as he lit his pipe, a gesture not altogether successful as his quivering lips were still visible. He got an elbow in his gut for his troubles.

With a huff, Astrid took her axe out of its holster and sat down, the handle now long enough to make sitting in anything but a backless stool or chair uncomfortable. She held it like a staff in front of her and began twirling it, humming to herself.

Ruffnut's eyes could have popped out of their sockets. When Phlema said that she had heard Astrid singing some days back she'd thought the woman was barking mad or flat-out drunk. But here she was; humming.

Oh, yeah. Wait until Brunhilda heard about this… tomorrow was going to be the best, washday, ever!

"He's gotten better, hasn't he?" Fishlegs commented, of course being nice and ignoring the humming. Tuffnut was too occupied being squashed (the axe made Flat-Fart nervous, so they'd curled up around the idiot as if he could protect them from an angry Astrid. Ha! - as if), and Ruffnut didn't care to speak yet. She would get her own tomorrow, with Astrid's awesome mum as backup.

"He's always been good, but you're right, he got better," She tilted her axe, looking at it proudly. The day's light was gone, and only the fire pit and the torches in their brackets remained. The axe flashed as various parts of it caught the lights from the different sources, and Ruff caught her brother following it like it was a forest nymph. "And look; Goethi spotted them."

Astrid eagerly tilted her axe, looking excited and ignoring Tuff's complaint that he couldn't see. Fishlegs' eyes widened and looked at her, but she shook her head.

"Should I be going 'woooow, that's awesome!' right about now?" Ruff asked, giving them all a non-plussed look for leaving her out of the brainy-loop. She would be the first to admit that while she could beat her husband's ass (and oh, that gave her ideas…) and hold her own against Astrid, they both outstripped her in the thoughts department. Astrid seemed not to bother with her tone, however - she seriously looked like a child getting her first axe - and tilted it further.

"They have to catch the light. Look better; look at the design!"

Ruffnut grabbed the handle impatiently, causing Astrid to suddenly look litigious, but Fishlegs' large hands held it steady between them, and after softly asking her to tell him when she saw something, he began to rotate the axe's double blade on it's own axes, both women holding it up by the handle. Ruffnut's eyes scanned the thing, and then suddenly she saw Magni, and then Frigga. Her limited vocabulary caught other runes she couldn't read well, but most of them seemed to be …

"Prayers?" she asked.

"Aha!" Astrid nodded. "He snuck in blessings and prayers for strength. How he ever managed to burn a single layer of metal like this I don't know, but here and here - see? - he managed two. I'm sure Gobber doesn't even know how to do this. He couldn't even repair my axe handle."

"Don't say that in front of him," Fishlegs said, still looking at the axe head with his pipe in his mouth. "He'll take it as a challenge and I do not want to see what he'd do to our weapons to prove you wrong. Hang on…"

He took the axe away from them both (and suddenly Astrid looked a step away from murder), and then held it up closer to the flames. He hemmed and hawed, oblivious to the rising danger while Ruffnut sat back and waited for it to explode, and Tuffnut tried to struggle out from beneath their dragon (wuss) so he could enjoy the forthcoming show better. But alas; they were to be disappointed (and she was not to become a widow today).

"Yeah, he wrote in blessings alright," Fishlegs concluded, waving everyone next to him. Astrid crowded him instantly, taking a firm hold of the axe handle and tugging, but Fishlegs made a placating gesture. "Look at the blade here; look, at this angle in the light. It's a Dróttkvætt1- rather well hidden, too."

"A what?" Tuff asked. Fishlegs frowned at him.

"A Dróttkvætt. A poem; six lines long, six syllables, lots of complicated rules how it's supposed to look like … Hiccup would know how to write one of these because he's the chief's son. Seriously, was I the only one who ever paid attention?"

"I remember what it is," Astrid said quietly, trying to stretch her neck and finally huffing in resignation. "What does it say?"

"Ahem … well, it says; Think of me when swinging / This gift I give unto /She who Freyja favours. Cleave ye the mighty foe / Who will stand in your path / Towards the Great Beyond."

"Whoaaaw…" Tuffnut said. Then he blinked. "So what does it REALLY say?"

Fishlegs rolled his eyes in exasperation. Ruffnut hadn't caught half of that either, but judging by the way Astrid was looking completely starstruck as she took the axe back, it was something good.

"Basically, he's asking Freya for protection, he thinks Astrid is very beautiful and he totally thinks she's such a kick-ass warrior she'll probably end up in Freya's hall."

"But it said 'think of me' at the start, didn't it?" Tuffnut said in confusion. Fishlegs bit his lip and looked at Astrid.

"Well, yes, but … that's sort of a message to Astrid … isn't it?"

Ruffnut held in a cackle when Astrid started, looking between them and the axe with a rather … interesting expression. Yeah … Hiccup may well get laid tonight.

"Oh yeah, my man Hiccup's getting some!" Tuffnut voiced unwisely. Ung, she needed to stop being his twin, somehow.

Astrid's axe, predictably, landed an inch from his nose. Flat-Fart gave a whine and moved away from the weapon, but Astrid was smiling sweetly and it confused both the dragons and her brother. Not that there was much mental difference.

"If you don't stop making lewd insinuations you probably don't even understand," she said in a really nice voice, "you're going to find yourself unable to pee standing up."

Tuff went white, not needing any explanation for that one. Still smiling brightly, Astrid hauled her axe into place and stood.

"I should probably head back," she said, already moving towards the door. "Good night; I'll see you tomorrow!"

Ruffnut turned to Fishlegs the moment the door was closed and Astrid's running footsteps faded up the path; she could feel Tuffnut do the same.

"There's an 83% chance of Tuff being right," he said, lighting his pipe 2 again. Tuff whooped, but Ruffnut kept looking at her husband, who finally whispered to her, "and 42% chance of it going well. But … 58% of it not."

Ruffnut winced. Ouch. Maybe tomorrow's washday wasn't going to be as awesome after all.

=0=

Cultural Notes:

1 A Dróttkvætt is a poem that is wickedly complicated to write, and was a technique taught only to leading families (at least, according to the internet). Hiccup is not my favourite muse right now, for forcing to write that. It is not perfect, as the meter on its own is enough to kill a person without taking the necessary alliterations into account. I am no poet, and did my best - please be gentle with me.

2 Pipes were found in Canadian Viking settlements so some of them were at least enured to the art of smoking tobacco. And while they didn't only smoke tobacco, if they can have potatoes in Berk in the film and the series, then they certainly can have tobacco brought back from sea and now dragon voyages.

=0=

Hiccup is a corny little sneak… and so am I. Clues abound! But of course, next chapter is going to be all about a certain someone doing stupid, stupid things…