First Contact Chapter 20

Hearing the twins' announcement (or was it a threat?) sent Varinn's mind into overdrive. He was the leader of the Terrible Terrors; they looked to him to make the important decisions. Fluff was probably his closest friend in the group, and this decision might be the most important one he would ever make for her. He'd get only one chance, he probably wouldn't have much time to think it over, and he had to get it right.

"Change in plans, Agmundr!" Varinn exclaimed. "We're not landing in the center of town. Take us to the Thorstons' house."

"What about warn people about Valka?" Agmundr asked.

"Valka's an adult, she's got a big dragon on her side, and the other Night Furies can warn the Vikings if they need to," he answered. "They can live without us for a few minutes. This just became more important."

"What do you think we're going to do?" Fluff asked fearfully.

"First, we have to find out if your cousins are lying to us or not. If they aren't... then I hate to say this, because you're probably sick of hearing it, but we'll think of something." Their black reptilian friend banked to the right and descended quickly, then spread his wings and landed lightly right in front of Fluff's house. The rest of Berk's dragons followed the Rumblehorn back to the center of the village and landed there. The twins didn't follow either of them. They'd had their fun, watching Fluff squirm; now they wanted a closer look at that awesome four-winged dragon that was circling the town.

"Can I go now?" Agmundr asked. "Brother want see me very much."

"Sure, go ahead," Varinn said with an impatient wave. "I don't think you can help us with this part." He helped Fluff dismount, removed their bags and her crutches from Agmundr's back, and watched the dragon bound away toward the Nest, where the other dragons were still landing. "Now, take a deep breath and get the facts, Fluff." She nodded as she hobbled into her house. The door swung shut behind her.

About a minute later, Mr. Thorston strode out the door, with Fluff close behind him. "Please, I'm begging you, don't do this to me!" she cried. "I'll be miserable all my life!"

"I don't want to hear it," he snapped. "He's probably going to be the next chief of this tribe. You'll be well cared-for. Whether you're happy or not... that's your problem. Now, if you'll excuse me, young lady, I have a marriage contract to finalize." He marched away, refusing to look back at the heartbroken girl behind him.

She turned wordlessly to Varinn. Her eyes were filling up with tears, but she kept blinking them back. He could feel her pain, it was so palpable. Her, married to Snotlout? Why not just kill her now – it would be more merciful! Anything would be better than...

"Hold tight," he exclaimed. "I'm going to try something!" He turned and ran before she could ask what he meant, and with her leg still in pain, she couldn't even try to keep up with him. She hobbled after her foster father instead. She would make one last attempt to talk him out of ruining her life forever.

Varinn's first stop was the Nest – he had to find Agmundr again, fast. But all the dragons were on the ground, welcoming Agmundr home and sharing TrueSights with him. Pulling him out of that crowd in a hurry would be impossible. He made a quick change in plans, located his sister in the crowd, charged into the mass of huge dragons, and leaped over Thing One to get to her. Thing One ducked and made an irritated squawk.

"Astrid, I need a huge favor, right away," he burst out. "Get over to Spitelouse – I mean Spitelout's house. Mr. Thorston is headed that way. Don't let the two of them get together!"

She was so startled, she didn't try to speak Forge or write in the dirt. She just pricked up her ear flaps and made a rising croon that obviously meant, "What the heck?"

"If he and Spitelout clasp hands, that means Fluffernut has to marry Snotlout," he explained urgently. "I've got a plan to keep that from happening, but you've got to buy me a few minutes. Please!"

Night-fury-mother-of-twins thought for half a second, then bounded over Thing One (who ducked and squawked again) and took off toward the Jorgenson house at a full gallop. Varinn turned and kept on running. This time, he was headed for the forge. If Fluff's luck was really as bad as she thought, then this would have been the week that Gobber finally cleaned out the back room, and he wouldn't be able to find his special project in time.

He burst into the forge, surprising Gobber, who was looking for one of his hammer attachments. "Welcome back, me wanderin' apprentice," he exclaimed. "I don't suppose ye could –"

"Gobber, I'll talk later!" Varinn cried as he ducked into the back room and looked around. Yes! Nothing had been touched! He grabbed his project, still safely wrapped in rags, and ran out again. He'd invested so much of himself in this project, so many hours of work late at night, so much sweat! This was supposed to be the thing that would improve his life; he'd been sure of it. But now, something even more important had come up.

When he got to Spitelout's house, he found a strange scene. The door was open, and Spitelout was trying to get out. Mr. Thorston was there, trying to get in, along with half a dozen Viking men who were probably there as witnesses to the completion of the contract. They couldn't get to each other, though, because a long black dragon had lay down in front of the doorway and was refusing to move. Astrid wasn't acting angry or threatening; her expression suggested that she was puzzled why these humans wanted her to go somewhere else. None of the men were dragon-friends, and none of them realized that she could understand their frustrated shouts and threats perfectly. Fluff was making her painful way up from her house, but hadn't caught up to the confused cluster of people near the door.

"Mr. Thorston, wait!" Varinn gasped, puffing from all the running he'd just done. "Don't seal that contract!"

"Why shouldn't I, young man?" Mr. Thorston demanded.

"I've got a sword," Varinn answered, and pulled the sword in its scabbard from the rags he'd wrapped them in.

Mr. Thorston stepped back, startled. "Are you threatening me with that weapon, boy?" he demanded nervously.

"No, sir," Varinn said, and took a deep breath. "I'm offering it to you as a bride-price for Fluffernut."

The older man took the sword hesitantly. "It had better be good," he muttered, and slowly drew it. The further it came out of the scabbard, the wider his eyes became, and Spitelout's eyes as well. Agnarr had coached Varinn in how to coat this blade with a silver-colored mineral he'd acquired from Trader Johann. "Chrome," he'd called it, and he'd promised that this coating would make iron shine brighter than a metal mirror. Varinn had polished it endlessly until he could see his own reflection in the blade. Now, he might be looking at his own destiny in that blade as well.

Mr. Thorston hefted the sword and swung it back and forth. Its balance was acceptable, and he couldn't find any fault in the workmanship. He tested the edge against the hairs on the back of his hand. It was quite sharp. He looked at his face in the blade again. At last, he slapped it back into the scabbard. "The young man has outbid you, Spitelout. Do you want to increase your offer?"

Varinn held his breath. If they started a bidding war over Fluffernut's hand, he would lose. This blade was the only thing of value he owned. His family wasn't rich; his parents couldn't compete against the chief's brother financially, even if they wanted to, and they didn't even know their son was in the process of choosing a bride without their advice or permission. He glanced over at Fluff, who was standing motionless and wide-eyed as two men and a boy negotiated her future. Some girls might have been flattered at being the subject of a bidding war, but she was caught somewhere between amazement and horror.

Spitelout gazed for a moment at Fluff, who was standing there with her crutches. He waved his hand dismissively. "Forget it, Thorston. She's not worth it. My son can do better than a cripple for a wife." He turned and slammed the door.

Fluff and Varinn both let out the breaths they'd been holding.

"It looks like you've acquired a bride for yourself, young man," Mr. Thorston said to him. "Of course, this depends on your parents agreeing to the match and accepting her dowry. What do they think of this arrangement?"

"Uhh, maybe you should go talk to them about that," was all Varinn could think of to say.

"And I will," Thorston nodded, and set out at a brisk pace toward the Hofferson home, drawing the sword and swinging it back and forth as he went. The witnesses shrugged and went their separate ways, now that they saw there would be no contract here.

Varinn turned to the Night Fury. "Astrid, thank you. I seriously owe you one."

WE'RE EVEN. THIS IS THE FIRST
TIME IN 3 YEARS THAT YOU'VE
TREATED ME LIKE A BIG SISTER
INSTEAD OF A STRANGE LIZARD.

BESIDES, I KNOW HOW IT
FEELS TO BE AFRAID OF
MARRYING SNOTLOUT.
I'M GLAD I COULD HELP.

BY THE WAY,
CONGRATULATIONS.
YOU PICKED A GOOD ONE.

Varinn smiled nervously, then gave his sister's neck a heartfelt hug. "Thanks, Astrid," he whispered. She crooned and smiled a toothy smile. Once he let go, she turned and trotted back to the dragons' reunion in front of the Nest.

That left Varinn and Fluffernut.

"What have you done?" she asked weakly.

"I think I saved you from a fate worse than death," he answered nervously.

"But I thought..."

"Fluff, if we were living in one of those fairy tales we were raised on, this would be the part where I'd admit that I've always loved you, but I hid my feelings so I didn't upset you, but now I'd openly declare how I've always felt. You and I both know that those stories aren't true.

"I've never lied to you. The idea of marrying you was just about the furthest thing from my mind. I love you as a friend, and I love you as a sister, nothing more. All I want is the best for you. Marrying Snotlout would be the worst thing for you, not the best! Maybe I'm not the best for you, either, but I had only a couple of seconds to come up with something. It was either him or me. If you're totally against the idea, we'll find an excuse to break it off. It sounds like the Jorgensons don't want you anymore, so you're safe from Snotlout, for now at least. When your leg is completely healed, that might change.

"So... what are you thinking?"

She twirled her ponytail with her finger for a few seconds.

"I know I have to marry somebody; that's just the way it is," she began. "There wasn't anybody in town who made my heart beat faster, and I knew my foster father wouldn't ask my opinion anyway, so my taste in boys wasn't an issue. I've been talking to Valka all week about marriage, and duty, and things like that. It was just a question of when, and who, and whether I could adjust to him. I know I could never adjust to Snotlout.

"If I married a total stranger, it would be weird. With you... it's just going to be a different kind of weird. We like each other and respect each other; that's more than a lot of Vikings can say when they get married. Maybe you're not a fairy-tale prince, but you did come to my rescue, and I appreciate that. The idea of you and me together is strange, but we've both been through bigger changes. I know I could do worse. If I break it off with you, I probably will do worse.

"I'm sure I wasn't your first choice for a wife, and I'll never be a classic Viking bride. I appreciate your sacrifice for me. And, when you talk about wanting the best for me... according to Valka, that's what real love is all about."

Varinn blushed scarlet. "I didn't have anyone in mind for myself, either," he said. "I knew Dad would pick somebody for me someday, and I figured I'd work it out, like Vikings always do, even if it was Spamlout. But I wasn't thinking about me just now." He shook his head in disbelief at what had just happened. "I always hoped you'd wind up with some really nice guy from another island who was tall and strong and handsome and rich. I figured a guy like that could make you happy, and I really want to see you happy."

She took a hesitant step closer to him. "You got the first part and the last part right," she nodded. "I'm going to wind up with a really nice guy, and I think he can make me happy. It's going to be a big adjustment for both of us; it'll be strange, it'll be weird, it might not be what either of us really wanted. But Valka says it's always an adjustment, no matter who you marry. I'd definitely rather adjust to you than to Snotlout, and I can't think of anybody else I'd rather adjust to, either." She managed half a smile. "Yeah, you'll do."

He stuck his hands in his vest pockets and stared at the ground, completely embarrassed. "Thanks for making me feel special. And please don't talk about me making a sacrifice, as though it will be some great hardship to marry you. You're smart, you're pretty, you're a good cook, I couldn't care less about the dowry... The only sacrifice I made was giving up my sword. That was supposed to prove to Gobber that I can handle some high-quality work around the forge, instead of just the menial work. Now I'll have to wait until Trader Johann comes back, hope he has some more of that chrome, and start another sword."

"You gave your best for me," she nodded. "Some husbands never do that for their wives. You did it even before we were married. Are you trying to make me feel special?"

"If I was," he shrugged, "then it would be because you deserve it."

The air was suddenly shattered by a masculine bellow from the direction of the Hofferson home. "VARINN! Get in here immediately!"

"Coming, Dad!" he called back. "Fluff... are you sorry I did this?"

"No," she said. "Not even a little." He smiled nervously and ran off toward his home; he already knew what his father wanted. It was just a question of how much trouble he'd caused by defying every courtship tradition in the book.

Fluff began hobbling slowly back toward her house, feeling slightly dazed. She was barely halfway there when Spamlout, Hensteeth, and Scrubby caught up with her and bombarded her with a barrage of questions. "What happened to your leg?" "What was it like out there?" "Did you meet any interesting dragons?" "Is it true that you got engaged?" "I glad see you again. You scratch my chin?"

"I glad see you too, Scrubby," she began, and scratched under the young Nadder's chin with both hands. He was as tall as she was now, but he still loved her scratches, and everything else about her. She ignored the others until they were ready to burst. Finally, without taking her eyes off the blue dragon, she said, "It was amazing out there, I met some awesome dragons, I stepped in a dragon trap, and yes, I just got engaged."

Her matter-of-fact answers stopped them in their tracks. "You're engaged? Really engaged? You don't sound nervous about it," Henny noticed.

"I haven't seen my brother lately," Spamlout added. "What does he think?"

Fluff shrugged carelessly. "Who cares what he thinks? He's got nothing to do with it." She grinned at their confusion. "The only thing that matters is that, now that I'm engaged, you two are next!" Spamlout and Henny glanced at each other and suddenly looked like they might get sick.

She just smiled. Her life was still one surprise after another, but at least this one wasn't such a bad surprise. There would be no total stranger for her, and there would be no Snotlout. It might even work out for the best. For the first time in years, she could consider her future with something like... hope.