A/N: Tadah! I know, I know, so much time since the update finally came. Call me what you want, but I tried my best! Not so many words for this chapter, but I have the story pretty much planned through now, so yeah! Enjoy, m'dears.
Truth and Glory
She watched with abhorrence as piercing arrows, swathed in fierce fire darted through the darkening sky. With curiosity she questioned herself why Vikings tended to attack dragons with exactly that element. There was an old saying, 'fight fire with fire', but she doubted it had much relevance when battling five-hundred tonnes heavy reptiles that lived and breathed infernos.
It was mayhem, the whole scenario. Proud men fell without reason, dragons mimicking their actions. On both sides there were more losses than one could count in a lifetime, yet the massacre just continued. A bitterness rose up her throat, her eyes forcing to close so that the scenes of destructions could be switched off.
What should she do? What choices did she have? If any at all. Cloudjumper flapped his wings menacingly, his grumbling indicating that he was no longer pleased to linger so high above the battlefield. Either they join, or they leave for good.
Valka swallowed. She had only wanted to take a small tour around the sanctuary when curiosity got the better of her. Leaving her young son in the safe company of her reptilian friends, where he giggled and smiled all day long, she had travelled a little farther south than expected.
Curls of blistering smoke had caught their attention, so they decided to approach and investigate what was happening. It was a middle-sized village she had found there, beyond the cliffs and hills, in between forests and boulders. Now it was black with ash and red with blood.
Suddenly, a fickle-looking man darted through the destructed masses of wood and metal, trying to escape the threatening claws of a Monstrous Nightmare. He bellowed and screamed for his dear life.
Valka glared, "Cloudjumper!" She called. The dragon understood her plea as he thrust himself forward, storming through the winds and hot sparks until her beloved companion outpaced the huge reptile and grasped the man by his fragile shoulders and arms. With a hefty swing of his four wings, he ascended, the man safely secured in his grip.
He cried and thrashed even more than before, watching as the earth shrunk underneath him and he saw himself approaching death.
"Let me go! I beg yuh, beast, let me go! I don' wanna go ta Helheim yet!"
"Calm down!" Valka interrupted, angry that he was being such a nuisance, "We're savin' yuh!"
He hesitated at that, confusion spreading across his demeanour as he tried to consume the words just spoken. Soon, Cloudjumper landed on a shore a little further west, carefully depositing the human in the soft sands.
The man immediately scrambled away from the dragon and his rider – trying to calm his erratic heart as he stared, wide-eyed, "W-Who are ya!?"
Carefully, Valka jumped off her Stormcutter, approaching the male with grace and hesitation, "I'm...a friend. You don' hav' ta worry, me dragon is good. He saved yuh."
Yet the Viking just scuttled a few feet further away, eyes still large with shock, "I don' believe yuh! Dragons are monsters! They kill without conscience!"
A pang at her heart, a curt memory that flashed in front of her eyes; a face covered with red hair and large, green eyes that bore into hers, speaking those exact same words.
"Yer wrong." Valka spoke with determination, her lips thinning into a line, her eyes glaring with reason, her hand coming forward to placate the man. But it was all to no avail.
"Get away from me!" He roared, jolting to his feet as he twisted around and stumbled with speed, "Yuh are no Viking! Yer tha enemy! Enemy with a dragon! She came ta kill us!"
His response shocked her. Her verdant oculars enlarged, and she stood there, simply staring at his retreating form. Should she call out? Try to right the wrong? Would it be worth the effort?
Why was he responding with such exaggerated fear?
Turning around remorsefully, Valka ascended Cloudjumper, signalling for her reptilian companion to take off. He himself had a neutral expression, not wanting to upset his master by showing what he really felt for the poor soul.
The many attempts at persuading Vikings of the goodness in dragons proved all to be futile. All her actions ever caused were fear, hate, anger and more fear. People looked at her as if she were possessed, or a demon from Helheim which had come to snatch them away. Nothing she said, did, or showed them could switch their opinions.
Ultimately, Valka was forced to give up. She returned to the sanctuary one day later, her stance full of sorrow, as she trudged towards the cave where she and her son resided in. On the way through the fields, she heard a giggle.
It was Hiccup. Raising her eyes, she saw the little boy with his tufts of wild, auburn hair, chasing a few baby Gronckle's through a meadow of sorts. They squealed and warbled along with the boy, who stumbled and fell a few times, yet never seemed deterred to keep going.
Suddenly, the mother of the infants; a large, weighty Gronckle came stomping forward, growling angrily at Hiccup with intimidating resonance. She was obviously anything but pleased about the fact that her children were being chased about.
Any other child would have screamed and cried, and Valka expected Hiccup to do just that. She was about to intervene; to save her son and pacify the angry mother when, she had to observe with astounding, how Hiccup simply smiled. He raised his left hand, carefully placing it onto the snout of the boulder type dragon, stroking her affectionately.
It was his way of saying 'I am sorry, I meant no harm', and the mother understood. Leaning into his touch, she licked his face upon which he chuckled some more, before she turned and hushed her young ones away.
"Hiccup..." Valka mumbled automatically, obtaining the attention of said boy, who turned with emerald eyes to stare at his mother.
He smiled at her, raising his hands. She returned the smile, feeling something flutter within her, "Hiccup..."
There was hope.
Maybe she could not persuade Vikings of making peace with the dragons; maybe all her useless attempts at convincing them of the goodness in these beings was indeed a waste of time. But maybe she was just the wrong person to execute that plan; with the wrong tactic.
Maybe she simply had to wait until the time was right. Then the right hero would come. And he might just bring peace.
When she came the next day, and he saw her cross the corner at the high road that would ultimately lead to his forge, he felt his hands begin to sweat. It was normal to feel heated when working next to a raging furnace, but Hiccup had become used to it over the years; but now, it was blistering, trails of salty liquid trickling down his temple as his entire skin felt like it was beginning to melt.
What would she say? Would she even remember the incidences from yesterday night? He would not doubt her recalling how he had saved her from the Rumblehorn, but everything else...
"Hiccup!" he heard her call, feeling even more nervous, for she used his actual name; not the nickname she had adopted over the weeks. What would her mood be? He knew how vengeful she could get.
Hammering along the crooked blade of a sword, for many weapons needed maintaining after everything that had occurred yesterday (the town was bristling with motion as each Viking joined in the reparation work). Hiccup pretended he had not realised her call; as if he were too busy, innocent within his labour.
But Astrid was vigorous and stubborn; something he had known, but liked to underestimate in his most stupid moments, "Hiccup...what is your surname?" and that was her greeting as she came to a halt in front of the window that looked into his forge.
He was stuttering, attempting to formulate a response, but he could not give price his surname; he did not know it, and even if he did; someone on Berk shared his name, and it was not too grand an island as that Astrid would not know who it is he is to call his father. So he pressed his lips tightly together, shrugging, "Kind of an orphan, you forgot?" He muttered whilst pounding onto metal.
"You never mentioned it." She was leaning against the sill, smiling charmingly his way as she observed him work, "Where do you live?"
"Here and there."
"But, when you were younger, you must have been taken into a family. Or do you have a mother?"
"Not really." Her questions were making him nervous with the passing second; what did she want, what was her intention, and in the name of Helheim, did she remember anything at all from last night?
"But-"
"Astrid, how can I help you?" Finally, he dared to raise his eyes and face her, viridian boring their way through azure orbs with as much determination as he could accumulate that very moment.
She sighed, gazing at him for several seconds before she came trudging around the workshop, entering through the entrance with a face of neutrality. He had to gulp upon her approach; had to step back from his working bench and raise a questioning eyebrow she simply ignored. What would she do? Punch him? Skewer him? They had kissed, he had...
"You were amazing last night."
His countenance began to heat up with an intensity he found unearthly; his cheeks and ears must have been boiling, for he felt dizzy, swaying there in front of Astrid, blinking, attempting to act as normal as he could; but he was failing utterly.
"The way you fought that dragon..." she shook her head in admiration, a slight smile creeping across her lips as she raised her eyes to glance at him anew.
He gradually let a breath leave between his lips he had not even realised to be holding; here he was, thinking unsuitable thoughts...she had been quite intoxicated, and a Viking under the influence of alcohol tended to become forgetful. Somehow, this relieved him.
"Sit down." she suddenly commanded, her voice edgy and forceful.
It took him by surprise, her change of tone, and he stood there, stupefied, for several seconds before he had quite registered what she wanted.
"Hiccup." With firm hands, she pushed him down onto a stool that stood two feet next to him, before she bent down onto her knees, fumbling with the hem of his trousers which covered his prosthetic leg.
"W-Wait Astrid, what're you do-"
"Shh." without interruption, she kept pulling the fabric until it was at his knee. Finally, she was capable of viewing the connection between the metal, wood and tender skin that had begun to blister, "Hiccup, your leg..." She looked up, angered, shaking her head as she got back onto her feet, searching around the workshop.
"It's nothing-"
"You're limping; since yesterday. You know, my dad has a peg-leg too. I know this kind of wound."
"Astrid-"
"Just shut up already...or rather, tell me where your medical supplies are."
He quirked an eyebrow, utterly confused by her inquiry, "Medical..?"
The blonde Viking spun on her heel, an expression of shock on her face, "Seriously!? Oh come on." He could not argue, not question, could only sit and wonder, as she left the forge immediately.
Before he was given the chance of continuing with his work, Astrid had come waltzing back in, a small pouch clasped in between her right hand, "Sit." She commanded dryly, upon which Hiccup could barely inquire nor hesitate; he felt the immediate inclination to do as she said.
Somehow, he believed she would make a great chief.
He felt her fumble at his leg, touching the rim of his prosthetic, skipping over to the finely grown scars that covered what remained of his walking limb. Her fingers were cool, somehow soothing; he liked the feel of it, did not want to pull away like he always felt tempted to whenever someone else inspected his injury. It surprised him.
"It's slightly inflamed. But I got some ointment from Gothi, so we should get it healed in no time." Hiccup was not even given a second to respond as she pulled off the leather straps, unclasped a small belt and unwound his peg-leg, removing the mechanism which she eyed with awe, "You built this yourself?"
What was the incredibility doing in her voice? Was it really that unlikely for him to construct something as genius (yes, genius, he allowed himself the credit) as his prosthetic?
"Yes." Was his hissed answer, for the cream she rubbed across his stump was stinging all of a sudden, making him grind his teeth against each other in order to not cry out.
"It'll prick a little, but it'll stop soon." She mumbled with rubbing fingers, before she had a thin cloth pulled out of her pack, tying it in curls across his leg, "This'll help it heal." She commented, as if feeling the need to explain her every action, "Will your prosthetic still fit?"
Azure eyes darted in awaiting towards him, an eyebrow raised ever so delicately, "Yeah...it should fit. I can loosen the clasps after all."
Indeed, with a few twists of his appendages, he had his leg reattached as firmly as ever, sitting comfortably on his stump. The feeling surprised him; maybe he should redesign a few things and edit his invention so that it sat more smoothly; it might just spare him the one or other day of terrible pain due to the constant friction he was bound to be dealing with.
Astrid observed him whilst he tested his leg, feeling less pain already. He stepped from left to right, and as soon as he had gotten used to it, the boy turned on his heal and disappeared into a room at the back of the forge, wordlessly.
The blonde Viking had her arms crossed in front of her chest, tilting her head as to catch a glimpse of what he was doing; where was he going, anyway? What was back there? She felt the inclination to follow him quite rudely, without requiring permission, yet Hiccup returned faster than she could move.
"For you." He whispered, handing a clothed something to her; it was large and looked terribly heavy.
Carefully, the woman opened her arms to have him place it inside, and once he lay it there, pulling his fingers back, she was astounded to find it weighing barely much.
"What is this?" She questioned before even attempting to unravelling the sheets.
Hiccup smirked; the kind of smug, knowing twist of the lips that Astrid had come to hate and also...feel attracted to, "Just open it. A gift from me to you."
She did as said, placing the object on top of a workbench and tenderly peeling the fabric back, until wood and hammered metal came to face her, glistening and fresh and absolutely beautiful.
It was an axe. A wonderful axe. One with a handle carved out of burnished wood, engraved with drawings of roaring dragons, of runes that spelt her name and patterns that pleased the eye. The head was brightly shining, so polished was it, so well-sharpened, looking intimidating and deadly. It most likely was.
"Your old one broke during the raid, so..." He shrugged, unsure as what to say. Hiccup was already fighting back a blush.
"That's...amazing..." she was at a loss for words, simply gawking at the weapon he had forged so perfectly, "You're...so talented." She frowned upon her words, as if the revelation disturbed her somewhat. Maybe it did, for he did not look like much, still. Despite this...handsomeness that he prevailed.
Now, he could not hinder the burning scarlet from overtaking his cheeks. Still, he was too glad about this being a smithy, so that having a red face came without questions having to be asked.
"I'm glad you like it." He smiled at her, but she could not see it; the sincere turn of his lips that was meant for her and her only. He bounced from foot to foot – or prosthetic, whatever – feeling nervous as he tried to formulate the next few words without too much embarrassment, "If you have time...you could teach me..."
"Teach you...?" Gradually, the blonde Viking turned to face her opposite.
"Axe...fighting. I'm better with sword and bow, you see...so I thought." He shrugged, shrugged again and then some. Was it his form of proposing a rendezvous?
Astrid felt her cheeks heat up, her lips curling, which she tried to fight back by biting them, "Sure, why not." She made it sound so nonchalant, but she herself felt her stomach spin a little inside her.
Their eyes met quite immediately, Hiccup not believing his ears too much, "Really...?"
She nodded, still battling the smile, "There's no one better to ask."
He nodded, "True...but only until I'm good enough." He closed in on her, feeling bold.
Astrid gasped at him, amusement still present, "Wait, what?! You can smith an axe, but not wield one – let's not be too confident." she giggled after that.
"Oy, I just never had much of a chance to engage with this weapon enough."
"Excuses, Toothpick."
He was about to raise his voice, make it sound more playful than ever, banter some more, when a roar of calls from outside the workshop echoed across the streets and stopped both Vikings in their doing.
"-back! They're back!" Many men and women rushed towards the docks, having both Astrid and Hiccup frown through the window.
"What's going on?" Hiccup inquired with a mutter.
Astrid frowned, "The chief is back!" she heard someone yell, and upon that, her face lit up slightly, albeit with worry interlaced into it.
"The chief..." she uttered, her legs twitching, her feet moving on their own accord as she legged it to the exit.
Hiccup followed, curious himself as to who this chief was. He had the vaguest of thoughts creep through his mind; quite intimidating revelations...
Astrid was faster than Hiccup could ever be; chasing down the wooden construction that led to where the ships rested; several vessels sat on the waters, rocking up and down, most of them near to shattered and burnt. From them exited masses of men and women, all with wounds marring their darkened and reddened skin, sacks and kegs being carried and rolled from place to place.
Wives greeted husbands, men helped each other out, the wounded were being taken to Gothi quite immediately. Hiccup recognized Snotlout grasping the hand of a man who looked very familiar to himself. They patted each other on the back, before the nearly two heads taller Viking turned his back on the boy and left along the pier. Rejection was evident on Snotlout's face, and when his muddy eyes met Hiccups, he scowled aggressively.
The young Night Fury rider turned away, wanting to make space for the newcomers. He felt awkward and out of place, despite some of his fellow Vikings standing there too, welcoming the returners back home.
"Look who 'as returned." Gobber's voice chimed up next to Hiccup, who tilted his head with raised eyebrows to look at the grim old smith, "Tha chief 'imself...thank tha Valkyries." He trudged over towards where Astrid had fought her way through the crowds.
There, stepping off last from the grandest vessel, came a man who towered over all others with pride, honour and strength. He was large and induced with authority; a facial expression stern and stubborn, his beard and hair of a unique colour that Hiccup often recognized when glancing into clear water. And his eyes...
'Despite his size, he has tenderness. And his eyes...they can be very endearin'. Yeh know...he might be stubborn, just like yuh, but he is also a lovin' man...'
Too many scenarios swooshed through his mind; all the doubts, all the fights, all the nights sitting up, too awake to ever sleep, drawing with chalk a picture he had always prayed to see in reality one day. Of himself with his mother...and his father.
Now, he observed Astrid greeting the chief, how said man's eyes softened upon seeing her, how he hugged her tight before they exchanged several words.
It all came crashing down onto him; he needed no further confirmation. But the anger did not stop from frothing upwards, from overtaking him as he ground his teeth some more, as he righted his jaw and balled his fists. Why? Why, mother?
"Stoick the Vast has returned." Gobber announced with so much glory.
No one realised when Hiccup suddenly disappeared. When the horns were blown to call for a feast, for every man had made it back alive, despite some heavily wounded, Hiccup had already reached the perimeter of the forest.
A/N: Does this mean Astrid has forgotten about last night...? Or maybe not? Who knows! And yeah, Stoick has returned, so...things'll get a little complicated from here on. Uh-oh. But don't worry! It'll work out...right? What do you think?
I'd be more than happy to read your thoughts in form of reviews, my dear, beloved readers. Thank you for your loyalty, sorry for the delay, and I promise to update soon!
Until then! *takes off on her very own Night Fury*