Chapter 39: Heroes Are Not Born Out of Happiness

The funeral was 3 days later.

Astrid sat on her bed with her legs hugged tightly to her chest as the early morning light crept through her curtains, unsure of what to make of the upcoming ceremony. The girl hadn't left her room since the night of Arkyn's death, refusing to see anybody despite being visited by many Berkians who tried so genuinely to offer their condolences. Her parents had been leaving plates of food outside her bedroom door several times a day but much of it went untouched as Astrid's appetite still hadn't returned, and neither had her motivation to speak with them.

This morning, however, she would have to…because as dim as her situation was, if anybody needed to be at that funeral, it was Astrid. At last there came a knock at her door, and her father's muffled voice floated across the barrier to meet her ears causing the girl to sigh with exhaustion.

"Look, Astrid, I know you're going through something terrible right now, but you still have to eat something…" There was a rare notion of empathy in his tone, something he didn't express often.

Astrid provided no response, but shifted her position so that her legs now dangled over the side of her bed. This would at least be enough to let Riftan know she was alive.

He soon spoke again after realizing this would probably be another one-sided conversation. "If being alone is what you need right now, that's fine, but just remember that there are a lot of people in your life who can help when you want them to…"

Another pause- this one longer.

"Astrid, I- I have something here for you. Something other than food, I mean."

"What is it?" Astrid asked flatly, finally engaging with the man outside.

"Your friends got together and unharnessed Arkyn's saddle to try and make his Triplestryke a little more comfortable and thought you should have it. They came by late last night but I didn't want to bother you in case you were sleeping. I wanted…I wanted to know if you'd let me hang it in your room for you…?"

The girl could hear the strain in his words and knew immediately how desperately he wanted to come in, and so after 3 days of self-inflicted isolation, she lowered her guard and caved.

"Okay." She said simply, letting her gaze fall to the floor.

Riftan slid the wooden bolt to the side and opened the door as slowly as he could, stepping inside with extreme caution as he laid eyes on his daughter for the first time following the attack. Astrid quickly looked up again to find him standing in the open doorway, sure enough holding Arkyn's saddle as well as several small tools that would help him with his task. The fact that she had it in her possession now made everything depressingly definite. Stinger would never wear the ornament again, and the saddle would now only exist on her wall as a reminder of what Astrid could no longer get back.

"Wait-" Astrid called out abruptly as her father went to begin his work. "Can I hold it? Just for a second?"

Riftan nodded solemnly. "Certainly." And he placed the object in her hands, soon taking a seat on the bed next to her.

The girl began to inspect the item, tracing the fine embroidery with her fingers and admiring the Nomanisan seal stamped into the leather surface one last time before it became a fixture in her room. Of course the craftsmanship had been the result of Hiccup's dedication, but this was quickly forgotten as Astrid's tears began to leak onto the object in Arkyn's absence. In spite of how good-natured their group dynamic had been in the beginning, none of that mattered anymore as Arkyn ultimately died being Hiccup's enemy- something that had unfortunately become very clear to Astrid in the Stryerson's final moments.

"I'm sorry you are missing him." Riftan said quietly, not knowing exactly how to connect with his daughter in this moment but certain he should at least make an attempt.

Astrid blinked as a long silence fell over them. She was tired of hearing everybody say they were sorry but too lazy to bring it up, not wanting to be disrespectful. As her father sat there, however, a question popped into her head that she'd been trying to find an answer to for some time but couldn't. It was only one of many questions she'd wanted an answer to lately. "Why did he do it?" She asked quietly, unsure if Riftan would even have anything to say.

"That's not something your father would know, Astrid…" he trailed off, but after seeing his daughter's face fall again, the man tried his best to gather the words. "…but sometimes, men have to do battle with demons far more destructive than any dragon you've ever faced; demons that can tear us apart from the inside without so much as a second thought. Some men, including myself and I imagine Arkyn as well, are told from a young age that these battles must be fought on their own, for if anyone is to know their struggles they will be seen as incapable of doing the things that strong men are expected to do. Arkyn…it would be my guess that he was fighting something truly awful, and as sad as it is, the most awful things are usually the ones that nobody ever hears about. In the end Arkyn let his demons win, but as they were beating him to death, his last taunt towards them was choosing the lives of others over his own. That's the most heroic thing a man can do, and it's what makes life's unfortunate truth that heroes are not born out of happiness hurt so gods damned bad for people like you…the ones the heroes leave behind." Riftan finally finished with a heavy sigh.

Astrid looked up at him, taking some time to process what he'd said. "I tried so hard to get him to just talk to me. I- I thought I was finally breaking through…" She thought back to the night she'd spent in Arkyn's house. He had said a lot that night, but evidently it hadn't been everything.

"There's always something else, Astrid. Always. It might be good for you to learn that nobody on this earth ever knows anybody else's whole story…" The man sighed.

"Have you ever had things you haven't told mom and I?"

Riftan nodded solemnly. "I have…"

"Like what?"

"Now's not a time for that, Astrid. It's going to be a long day for you." He stood up, abruptly ending their conversation as if Astrid had touched a nerve. His unusually empathetic demeanor seemed to disappear as he lifted Arkyn's saddle from his daughter's hands once more and went about mounting it to her wall, glancing over his shoulder as he did so. "There's no need for anyone to be concerned for me. I assure you that."

Astrid remained on her bed, watching him intently. Her feelings of grief had briefly been replaced with mild confusion over exactly what message her father had been trying to convey, though eventually they dissipated again as the man turned to leave.

"Try to clean yourself up a bit." Riftan let out a sad huff as he pushed Astrid's breakfast plate from the top of the stairs into her room with his boot. "And eat something, why don't you? Our escort to the funeral will be here soon…" He paused for a moment and gave Astrid some time to provide a response, but when none came he could only close the door and join his wife downstairs, hoping his daughter would come around sooner rather than later.

—

It was early afternoon when the knock finally landed on the Hofferson's door. Freya answered it to find Hoark on their front step, a remorseful look hidden behind his bushy beard. "I'm afraid it's time." He said. "How's yer lass?"

The woman looked over her shoulder and towards her daughter's bedroom door. "Go and get her, will you?" She asked Riftan softly, and the man ascended his staircase once more as Freya turned back around to address Hoark. "I don't know how much time she'll need." The girl's mother admitted. "It burns me that this had to happen so close to Snoggletog…just 2 days away now. To be alone so suddenly during the holidays…it's not what any parent wants for their child."

"I understand, miss, I understand. I pray the ceremony is nice enough. There were some…uhm…'complications' when getting the lad's vessel ready…"

"What sort of complications?" Freya raised an eyebrow skeptically, but it was then her husband and daughter emerged from the girl's room and joined the pair at the doorway. "Astrid, dear, what are you doing in your battle armor?" She asked in a tone of slight urgency. "We're going to a funeral! For Thor's sake, I thought you'd at least wear your dress…"

"I'm never wearing that stupid thing again." Astrid shot back, not in the mood for anything her mother had to say.

Freya was hurt by these words as she had made the dress, but she pretended not to notice. "Astrid, Arkyn was your betrothed…it was my presumption you would honor him as such…"

Her daughter stared daggers at her. "This axe on my back" she pointed to it frustratedly, "was Arkyn's betrothal gift to me, and as such I am honoring him by bringing it to his funeral." The girl argued. Besides, she'd decided long ago that Arkyn was the only person she'd ever wear that dress for anyway, and so long as he was gone not a single other soul deserved to see her in it. "Wearing a dress won't bring him back. You know that." Astrid added, much to her parents' disappointment.

Freya saw right away that this was not a battle she wanted to pick nor a hill she wanted to die on, so she let the subject go with a sigh, letting her daughter stay on brand without much further resistance. Truthfully, however, it made her sorrowful to see her daughter acting exactly how she'd been a year ago. Whether it was Hiccup and Toothless or Arkyn who'd done a better job at getting the girl out of her shell since then, Freya didn't know and didn't care, but one thing was for certain…the light-footed and cheerful daughter she'd finally gotten to know a month ago wasn't standing in front of her now. The cold, violent, pessimistic, precision focused teenager had taken hold once again, and it was almost too much for the woman to bear.

Astrid looked positively apoplectic with anger after the conversation, and noticing this, Hoark diverted. "We'll discuss the complications on the way." He whispered to Freya, and soon enough the 4 Vikings had left the house behind to trundle off to the funeral, which was being held in the same field Arkyn had died in.

They walked in silence for quite some time before Hoark pulled Freya aside, picking up their suspended topic. "So ye see, the trouble was-" he whispered.

"The trouble was what?" Astrid cut him off. "I can still hear you…"

Hoark stumbled over his words, but considering the younger girl had been betrothed to the Viking in question, he decided she possessed just as much right to know as any of them. "I was part of the group working to clean up the shore, ye see…but something about that dead dragon…it's just baffling me."

"What exactly about it?" Astrid pressed, a mild glare populating her features.

"Well…" Hoark didn't know how to tell her the news. "10 of us worked 2 days to dissect that beast. We tore it scale from scale and separated each bone and wing flap we possibly could, and by the end of it…none of us found any evidence that Arkyn's body ever rested with the Screaming Death on that beach."

Astrid's parents shared a look of confusion and worry. It was customary for the body of the deceased to be on the vessel to Valhalla at all Viking funerals…

"We got past the teeth and the jaws, went down the throat, and even pulled apart the stomach. There's not a single scrap of clothing, belt buckle, tribal seal, or any sort of human flesh to be found. Just nothing at all."

The girl recoiled as he detailed the scene, each word feeling like a stab wound as he described the search for Arkyn's remains. She ultimately swallowed her discomfort, however, in order to force out another pressing question. "What about his sword?" She blurted. "Did you at least find his sword?"

Hoark sadly shook his head, at a complete loss to find any sort of closure for the young girl to hold on to. "I'm afraid not, lass, but above all that is what was most puzzling to us. What we did find was a gash 5 paces long that burst from the back of the beast's throat and straight through its heart. It's no question how the dragon died, only where the weapon of its killer ended up after it bit the dust. I…I don't know what to tell ye…" he finally trailed off. "Wish I had it for ye to keep though…"

The mood had gotten a whole lot weirder. What were they to do at the funeral without a body? Would it even be possible for Arkyn's soul to make the journey to Valhalla otherwise? The impossibilities of the situation began to weigh on Astrid, who tried her best to think of any explanation for the disappearance before ultimately coming up short as none of them made any sense. There would be no last goodbye for her, only an empty ship.

It was only a short while later that they arrived at the funeral, and a line of Vikings parted to allow their group to move forward across the field. The 4 new arrivals eventually came to rest near the edge of the cliff where a small wooden platform had been erected for those who were speaking. Stoick, Gobber, and the rest of the dragon riders stood on either side of it, quietly mourning right along with Astrid at the sudden and violent disappearance of their friend.

Stoick cleared his throat and stepped up onto the stage, holding up his arms so that the murmurs through the crowd ceased at once. It was going to be a difficult day.

"My beloved Berkians," the Chief began. "as I look around at all of your wonderful faces, I am reminded of the reason we are all able to gather here today. It is because someone unbelievably brave, loving, and loyal, gave up his life for us despite not being a true Berkian himself. Arkyn Stryerson chose to die in order to stop a beast of unimaginable power, making sure our village only had 1 person to grieve after that devil of a dragon was eradicated from our island." The tears had already started falling amongst the onlookers, and Astrid's eyes began to well up with the rest of theirs as Stoick continued his speech.

"Arkyn came to us several months ago after losing his entire world. We all know his tribe to be wiped out, his parents along with them, but rather than give up, that boy had the strength to start over and when he first landed on our shores it was my son who convinced me to personally allow him into our home." A myriad of glances fell on Hiccup, a vast range of emotions living behind each one. "Soon after he'd found his footing, our resident dragon riders trained him as one of their own, and Arkyn's skill in this discipline would only grow throughout his time here. We were privileged to have him aid in battle against the infamous Flightmare as well as fortunate to cheer him on during our dragon races, however brief they may have been."

The Chief took a moment to correct his faltering resolve. "On top of a new passion for dragons, Arkyn also found something I think we can all agree is much more valuable: love. It is with great, great sorrow in which I must announce for those of you who weren't aware that Arkyn left behind a partner. I now invite his betrothed, our very own Astrid Hofferson, to say a few words in his name. Please show your respect to her and her family during this difficult time."

Stoick stepped aside and glanced at Astrid, motioning for her to take his place on the platform. Astrid had known she would probably be asked to say something, but every time she had tried to prepare something, the proper words never appeared. Her mouth went dry as hundreds of people shifted their gazes to where she stood, and the girl was briefly frozen in shock before feeling a tap on her shoulder from her best friend.

"You don't have to say much." Ruffnut encouraged her. "Arkyn probably wouldn't want you to anyway. He never did like recognition…"

"I'll be fine." Astrid replied, though her tone suggested she didn't really believe her own words. Slowly, Astrid turned away and took her position on the stage. She could hear the wooden boards creek under her in the silence emanating through the crowd, and despite the brutally cold weather her hands quickly clammed up with sweat. Nervousness fell over her as she saw everyone's eyes looking in her direction, but after finding her mother's face at the front of them all, she knew her time to say something was now.

"It was always the other people in Arkyn's life who were his top priority." Astrid began slowly, already choking with each breath. "He couldn't allow himself to be ok unless everybody else was ok first, and even then, I'm not sure if any of his time on Berk ended up being completely stress free. There wasn't a thing on this earth that Arkyn wouldn't have done for me or my friends, and that includes dying."

Every few sentences, Astrid had to reach up and wipe her eyes with her sleeve, but she pushed through as best she could. "Arkyn, as I knew him, was never afraid of death. Some called him reckless when he put himself in harm's way for the benefit of others," Astrid slyly shot a glare towards Hiccup before continuing. "but it is my hope that recklessness and bravery are not confused with one another, because Arkyn was the most courageous man I've ever known despite how much he liked to downplay it. I'll miss him everyday, but I know that in the end he went out on his own terms, not like a coward."

There was an awkwardly long pause as Astrid tried to figure out where to go next. "I think Arkyn and I needed each other." She said simply. "There was always this unspoken conversation going on between us. It's hard for me to explain, but even as we were talking normally when we were together, it felt like our hearts were saying something different at the same time. Now that he's gone I don't feel that anymore. I don't feel much of anything anymore, actually, but I'm ok with that. Emotions just seemed a lot easier for me to feel when Arkyn was around. One of my favorite things about him was how much pride he still had for the Nomanisan tribe. His sword, his suit, and even the dragon he rode were all meant to help keep their memory close. He used to light up when he told me about everybody he used to know, his parents especially, and I was happy to learn as much as I could. As their last remaining member he tried to keep their legacy alive as best he could, and now I'm afraid to say they're extinct. This funeral, at least for me, is about more than just the loss of my betrothed. It's about the loss of an entire tribe- an honorable tribe- whom we should remember in our history books as the tribe that delivered us our ultimate defender, for Arkyn's sacrifice is one that we cannot possibly ever begin to repay." The girl finally finished, hastily stepping down from the stage and falling in line with her friends as Stoick rose to speak once more.

"Thank you, Astrid, for those beautiful words." Stoick nodded fondly to her. "As she was speaking, I was reminded of a conversation Arkyn and I shared on the night our riders triumphed over the Flightmare. Arkyn expressed to me a worry that if he maintained his current lifestyle, time would run out on him before he was ready. The poor lad was just exhausted. Dragon riding is dangerous and he knew after that fight that it wouldn't lead him to the future he wanted. It was me who convinced him not to hang up his saddle, and although we are all alive today because he chose not to, I can't help but feel that I played a part in robbing that boy of his desired future- because he was right. Time did run short on Arkyn. He was forced to grow up much too quickly and faced all of the horrors of being a soldier without living to experience any of the beauties of growing old. I must live with the pain of not taking his worries more seriously when I had the chance, and now there is nobody left to apologize to but Odin himself." A single tear fell from the mountain man's eyes as he repented, the loss of the young boy weighing massively on him as the Chief.

Astrid stared at the man suspiciously. Neither he nor Arkyn had ever mentioned such a conversation to her. That night of the attack, she'd run off to find her parents after they'd gotten back, leaving Arkyn alone with his thoughts. Evidently he'd shared them with Stoick, but even after his later betrothal to Astrid, Arkyn's fear of time never reached her ears. It was clear the future Arkyn had wanted involved Astrid herself by his side, and a sense of blame aimed at her Chief crept over her as she realized that by convincing Arkyn to keep fighting on behalf of Berk, Stoick had robbed Astrid of her own future as well. If only she'd known that dragon riding didn't turn out to be what Arkyn truly wanted. If only she'd let him skip the dragon races that day like he'd asked. If only she'd let him fly off exploring to some faraway island instead. Maybe then Arkyn would still be safe right now, but he wasn't…all because Stoick had pressed him to continue putting himself in harm's way and be the island's big savior before he had fully recovered from his own losses. It wasn't fair.

Astrid was barely listening when the Chief continued, too overcome with anger and sadness to care anymore. "I feel it is only right for Astrid to deliver the words of passage, for there is nothing stronger to guide us through turmoil than the power of love. May she ensure Arkyn's safe crossing into eternity…"

Snotlout had to lightly flick Astrid's hand to snap her out of her thoughts, but she understood what he meant when he pointed up to the wooden stage. Now Stoick and Gobber stood there together inviting the girl to join them again, with the blacksmith offering Astrid the ceremonial tribal bow in his outstretched hand. She nodded cordially to him as she took it, silently recognizing the man for the help he no doubt offered Arkyn when the boy was forging her betrothal gift.

Astrid looked over the edge of the cliff from her spot on the stage and studied the scene below. Arkyn's lifeboat- the same one he'd shown up in- had been hauled out of the stables where the teens had stored it upon his mysterious arrival. It would now carry him into the afterlife, and it was soon to be launched from the same shore Arkyn had first landed on. The same shore where Astrid had spoken her first words to him. She would fire her flaming arrow from the same field on which he met his end, hoping to the gods above that the connection between all these things would guarantee the boy's safe arrival into the arms of his waiting parents.

There was just one problem though: Arkyn's body hadn't been found. Astrid wondered if this information had been made public, or if Hoark had only told her family specifically. The small lifeboat with no oars began to float out to sea with nothing but an empty box covered in a white sheet occupying its hull. The Nomanisan seal and the Berkian seal had been painted atop where Arkyn's body should have lay, but aside from these decorations, the vessel was simply a buoyant shell. The notion made Astrid begin to weep with despair, and she could barely keep it together when the time came for her to speak once more.

"May the Valkyries welcome you and lead you through Odin's great battlefield. May they sing your name with love and fury, so that we may hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you've taken your rightful place at the table of kings. For a great man has fallen: A soldier, a savior, a lover, a friend. Let you see your mother and your father, and let them bid you take your place among them in the halls of Valhalla…where the brave shall live forever."

Astrid's shaky words fell silent as Gobber held a torch up to light her arrow, and when Arkyn's boat was the right distance away, she let it fly. It landed between the two tribal seals with pinpoint precision, quickly setting the small wooden vessel ablaze with a great inferno. She watched it sink below the surface of the ocean with little fanfare, wondering if the gods were even real or if everything about Valhalla was just bullshit anyway. It didn't really matter either way, because whether or not Arkyn was actually in Valhalla or somewhere else entirely, he wasn't with Astrid now, and he wouldn't be perhaps until Astrid was old and grey and dead herself.

Stoick prepared to draw the funeral to a close as Astrid let herself get lost in her own thoughts all over again. What he ultimately said, however, did not help her much. "What I wanted for you all this Snoggletog season has had a dark shadow cast over it because of Arkyn's sacrifice. It was my sincerest wish that he could have been here with all of us to celebrate the good times, but seeing as he bravely chose to step across the veil so that we may still share in each other's company, I hereby declare that some recognition on behalf of the Chief's council is in order. For Arkyn Stryerson's heroic actions, it is my pleasure to award him the honorary title of Commander within Berk's ranks of warriors. May we remember him always as the hero he was to our people, and may his spirit live on in the legacy he left behind."

Thunderous cheers and chants of Arkyn's name rang out loudly from the crowd in response to this news and continued even as people were dismissed from the funeral. Despite all the noise, the mood among Astrid and her friends remained hollow. Nobody knew what to do after that. Arkyn was just gone. His name would be spoken less and less from this point forward, and aside from his house and his dragon, the memory of his existence on the island was slim for almost everybody except those who knew him on a personal level. It was a heavy burden to carry, and one that would take a lot of time to come to terms with for many of the teens.

The 6 riders stood by the edge of the field in silence for a while before Ruffnut finally spoke, acknowledging the dismal state of the affair. "I'm up for some mead. Anybody care to join me?" She phrased the question as if it were for everyone, but turned to Astrid specifically when she asked it.

"No thanks. I'm walking home." The other girl replied flatly. "Alone." This was also made clear to her parents.

"Astrid, at least come and find us in the arena tomorrow morning." Fishlegs pleaded. "We're all getting together to feed Stinger. We've had to keep him in the stables for a few days and it's time we let him spread his wings a little. You should join us for the flight."

"I'll think about it." Astrid shot quickly, turning away to start her journey home knowing full well she had no intention of leaving her house the next day. "Thanks for the saddle, by the way." Was the last they heard from her that night as she called to them over her shoulder.

Almost immediately after Astrid started down the path that led into town it began to snow. The cold gave way to the clouds and pretty little flakes soon stuck to the girl's clothing, the wind nipping at her fingertips as she went along. It looked like Berk would have a white Snoggletog this year after all, but the beauty was only superficial. The weather had a cruel way of making her walk feel unbearably lonely, and she quickly tried to fill her head with happy memories of Arkyn in an attempt to mitigate this.

Instead the only thing that entered her mind was a playback of Stoick's final speech. "Hero." Astrid remembered him saying. Her father had said it earlier that day as well. Arkyn had always hated that word. Both men would have known that if they'd only paid any real attention to how Arkyn chose to conduct himself, but alas, they had not. A memory of how Arkyn had scolded her the first time she referred to him as such flashed before her eyes, and although she'd found his scolding rather annoying back then, it now forced her to crack a small smile. Astrid seemed to understand his aversion to the term much better now because of how black and white she'd begun to view the world. If Arkyn hadn't killed those 2 Screaming Deaths, hundreds of people would have died. Arkyn wasn't being a hero, he was doing a job- a job Astrid now had to continue doing without her betrothed alongside her. If only she'd humored Arkyn more when he'd tried to tell her this all those times before, but she had only accused him of idle modesty, and now it was too late.

Too late.

Everyday people get a little bit closer to 'too late' and never realize it until it's already passed. Everybody thinks they have more time until it's gone. Astrid had just become the latest victim of this old adage. It was the reason she'd never told Arkyn 'I love you' even though it had been true for many weeks and she'd let countless chances to do so pass her by. This lingering regret put Astrid in an uncontrollable fit of tears, and floods fell from her face into the soft powder below her as she neared her house.

Collapsing on her bed, the girl buried her face in her pillow and wished for death to greet her at his inclination. The greatest era of Astrid's life had come to a close in a sea of broken promises and irreversible consequences, and that was the only outcome she saw that would sufficiently satisfy her that night. Everything just seemed so completely hopeless…

…but perhaps fate had different plans because at that very moment, unbeknownst to Astrid herself, somewhere out there in the vast, unending expanse between the worlds of the living and the dead…

…a gloved hand twitched.

THE END…

AN: This concludes "Room For One More", a story by Triplestryke1. I started this story roughly 16 months ago and it has been quite the journey since then. It's interesting to look back on the kind of person I was when I started this versus who I am now. I started writing this as an escape, and now that it's done I can honestly say it has been a rewarding experience. I've taken my life's low points and used them to create something that I can share with a few others. If you are one of those few who read all the way to the end, I genuinely appreciate you and would like to offer you my personal gratitude, though I know it may not mean much. I hope you enjoyed the journey with me.

Please let me know your thoughts if you're reading this note. Now that the story is finished, I'd love to see your reviews of my work. The good, the bad, and the ugly will all be taken into consideration if/when I decide to begin another story.

So what happens now? What happens now is called "Triplestryke1 takes a break." Vague ideas are forming in my head that are saying to me that I haven't told the whole story yet. If you would be interested in a continuation of the Room For One More premise, please let me know that as well.

As for right now, this is Triplestryke1 signing off. Thank you for providing the viewership and motivation needed to see this project through to the end.