Oh boy, has it been a hot minute since I did this... Sorry for the super-duper long wait for this one all. After several deletes and complete rewrites, I just couldn't get the flow to feel right. I have finally decided to split it into 2 chapters (the second of which I will need to add more to before posting), and just bloody post it before I wasted another whole year to endless editing. Apologies for any typos or issues throughout as I'm uploading it before I can change my mind. I will come back and read it through more thoroughly tomorrow. Lol

And thanks again to all those who have stuck around and waited for this thing that was beginning to feel like it would never happen. Rest assured, although I may seem to fall off the edge of the map every now and then, I am still here, and I am still working on all my stories whenever life isn't getting in the way. Even when it does, your comments, faves, and follows always keep me coming back! Love you all and see you in the next one :D

~oOo~

The next couple days seemed to drag by for Astrid. She felt trapped between a longing to see Hiccup again just to prove she wasn't mad, and a strong urge to just write it all off as a delusion. Perhaps one brought on by some bad grain or curdled milk. Countless times she'd been sure she heard hoofbeats outside, only to have them grow into a roll of thunder the next second. Or she'd catch a glimpse of a dark shadow approaching on the road, only to have it melt from her sight a moment later as if swept away by the driving rain.

Some small part of her was starting to worry she was actually going mad. Her mood darkening as she channeled her other feelings into straight anger so as to help herself deal with it better. It wasn't as if she could really speak of it to anyone, anyway. She was still too confused about it herself.

Resigned to bear this burden alone, Astrid had kept to herself as much as possible while trapped inside. Waiting impatiently for a break in the weather when she could distract herself with repairs outside instead. The Lord knows there was always plenty of work to keep her busy. That, and manual labour was better than wasting time dwelling on… Whatever it was that had occurred here the other night.

Fortunately - or maybe unfortunately - she'd soon discovered that the storm hadn't done anywhere near as much damage as she'd expected given its ferocity. The house, shed, and barn had all weathered fair enough at least. An old tree had toppled near the back of the pasture though. She'd gone out to repair the section of broken fencing yesterday. Her brothers helping her as much as she would allow them to - which mostly meant keeping the opportunistic goats from escaping through the hole while she worked.

It had been while she was winding the last of the rope around the newly set post that Ruffnut had approached her from across the field. Somehow always keyed in to the local to-dos, Tuffnut had heard from one of their other neighbours that some people had started to fall ill in town. The worst of which was little Argh — Mr. and Mrs. Ack's youngest son, who was not yet a full year into this world.

"Gunnar thinks it's because of those witches that Trader Johan was talking about the other day," Ruff stage-whispered over the fence. Her thumb gesturing towards the home on the far side of Mildew's plot as she glanced around, as if to make sure no one else was within earshot.

"I'd be rather foolish to agree," Astrid huffed. "It's likely just been brought on by the rain. We all know that a chill in the air today sets a chill in the bones tomorrow." Looking away from her gossipy neighbour, she dressed the knot as her father had taught her before pulling it good and tight. Then she stood and gave her work a proud once over. Nodding, as if to show her approval to the craftsman.

"Maybe…" Ruffnut's hesitant reply trailed off thoughtfully, and she was chewing on her lip when Astrid at last looked her way again. It was almost as if she had something she wanted to say, but wasn't sure if she should speak it aloud.

"Go on," Astrid grumbled. "Whatever it is, spit it out."

"Well, Gunnar told Tuff that Trader Johan said the evil, or what ever it is, would arrive first in the form of a black shadow on horse back…"

"Trader Johan has always enjoyed adding plenty of dramatic nonsense about ghosties, ghoulies, and other such things to his tales," Astrid felt the need to point out. "He seems to think it makes the stories more exciting."

"I know," Ruff agreed. "Thing is, Tuffnut swears he saw a stranger dressed in all black when he was out in the woods yesterday. A stranger riding atop a huge black horse. When he tried to get a better look, man and horse were already gone. Maybe the horse was just really fast, but… Tuff said it gave him the creeps." Her eyes were shifting all around again as she leaned closer over the fence, and she looked unexpectedly nervous.

"Oh, that was probably just…" Astrid's words died on the way to her mouth as she thought better of it.

Astrid knew how Tuff felt. The unease of not being sure exactly what you had just born witness to. This did not mean that she should necessarily encourage him to repeat his tale. Especially when she didn't yet know what to think of the whole thing.

Would it truly be wise to mention it to someone else? The twins had never been known for their discretion, and Astrid's words would simply confirm Tuff's suspicions — which he would then feel required to share with every person he came across. At best, it could cause a slight scandal that a young man had spent the night in their home. At worst, the superstitious townsfolk may think the Hofferson clan had entertained something entirely inhuman instead.

No, it was best to keep what she knew of Hiccup Haddock to herself for now. Surely the others would learn of him soon enough — if he even wanted them to, of course. "Just… his imagination running away on him again. Pray tell, was Tuff also snacking on some unknown mushrooms at the same time he claims to have seen this spectral horse?" Astrid covered her near slip-up with an eye roll, just to be safe.

Some of the tension seemed to leave Ruffnut's shoulders at that, and she gave a relieved sort of chuckle. "Yeah, he was," she sighed. "You're probably right." Then she seemed to perk right up as she added giddily, "he said he found some really cool looking ones with purple tops and yellow spots. He thought maybe they'd let him commune with the faire folk, but instead they just tasted really bad and made his tongue go all numb. He's been behind the house all this morn, claiming that demons are trying to tear apart his…"

"Okay, I'm going to stop you there," Astrid cut across her as she fought the urge to retch in her mouth. "Ugh!" Although glad that she had been able to successfully distract the female twin, she now deeply regretted the unfortunate direction the conversation had wandered towards.

"You know, he's going to get himself in serious trouble one of these days," she couldn't help stating. "Not all things that grow from the Earth are meant to be eaten, and the Lord can sometimes be rather harsh in his punishments for those that do not listen."

When Ruffnut just cackled gleefully again, Astrid sighed loudly as she shook her head. "Well, make sure he drinks some comfrey tea to help him clear out the rest of the so-called 'demons'. Maybe add some spruce needles to replenish his energy and use some mint to mask the taste of both. A pinch of each should do the trick and let it steep for no longer than it takes to walk from the house to the lane and back," she offered.

Such knowledge was not typically shared so freely, and she personally felt that Tuffnut perhaps deserved to suffer in order to finally learn something, but Astrid knew her mother would be disappointed if she did not help a neighbour in need. Thankfully Ruffnut took the advice with a happy smile before slouching off back in the direction of her family's little cottage.

Upon returning inside her own home, Astrid relayed the news she had just heard about little Argh and the other villagers to her mother. Ingrid was not much fussed with the older folk, but she began bustling around immediately as she fretted about the babe. "He is too young to get through much without help. Why they didn't send for me, I shall never guess. Folly be on them and their foolish jangling," she muttered to herself as she gathered up supplies. "Remind me to pick some more Feverfew tomorrow so I can get it drying."

"You can't possibly be thinking of leaving for town right now," Astrid scolded — taking a brief moment to appreciate how odd it was to be scolding one's own mother. "Night is nearly upon us and the storm is rolling back in!"

At her tone, her mother turned around and gave her 'the look' — complete with slightly arched eyebrow — and Astrid couldn't help but bow her head a little in response as it brought her right back to memories of childhood. "Of course I'm not going right now," Ingrid retorted. "I just want to be ready so that I can take my leave at the first light of morning. I trust you have no complaint to me borrowing Stormfly to assist in my journey?"

"Of course not," Astrid replied immediately, feeling slightly abashed at her outburst now. "I am sorry for speaking out of turn, Mama."

Her mother smiled softly as she moved to hug her daughter now. "Nonsense, my dear. Do not be sorry. You worry for us all, as you have seen fit to do since we lost your father, but I assure you that I am quite capable of looking after myself. After all, I seem to have managed well enough for sixteen years before you were born," she teased gently.

Her words brought a smile to Astrid's face as well, and the two of them settled into easier banter now as they began to prepare dinner. Ingrid laughing heartily as Astrid told her of Tuffnut's troubles with mushrooms. Still, Astrid couldn't help the odd sense of foreboding that settled like a lump of undercooked bread in her stomach as she watched her little brothers practicing their whittling over near the hearth. Her mind wandering back to when they, too, had been small and sickly, and her heart went out to the Ack's.

Hopefully the baby pulled through, but how many other children would get sick before the storm finally passed?

Ingrid and Stormfly galloped off at sunrise the next morning. Astrid managed to keep herself busy for most of the day by completing idle chores and picking the Feverfew to help out her mother, but as evening rolled in her mind began to fret again. Her stomach twisting uncomfortably as she wondered how that poor little boy and his family were holding up. Did her mother need help? Did others in the village?

Needing to get away from the house for a bit, she left her brothers to finish cleaning up from supper as she grabbed a basket and a lantern with a fresh candle and headed for the creek. It might seem silly to wander the forest at night, but Astrid had always felt more at home in the trees than she did in the village. That, and she knew the path well and the trip wasn't far.

Besides, all the rain was bound to make the creek rise. It would be a waste to let the delicate Watercress wash away before it could be harvested. The little plants were especially valuable now that disease was creeping its way through the village. Her mind now focused on calling up all the old remedies she'd learned from her mother as her worn shoes carried her easily over the familiar dirt path past the edge of the field.

Reaching the creek, she found the waters choppy, but still shallow enough to wade into if she was careful. The shadows pressing in on her as the forest blocked out most of the remaining sunset. The occasional drop of residual rain dripping from heavy pine boughs and falling softly to the forest floor. It was oddly comforting, and she took a moment to just breathe in the scents of nature as the weight of worry melted from her shoulders.

Feeling more relaxed than she had for nearly a week, Astrid cast the light of her lantern around in a slow circle to check the surrounding trees. Once she was sure that no one was watching, she untied her bodice and quickly removed her skirts — shedding her heavy layers and leaving on only her light chemise, which she looped into a loose knot just above her knees to hopefully keep it dry. Too many souls had been lost to these waters over the years. Only a fool would be more concerned with modesty than survival.

The cold waters stung her legs as she stepped off the shore. The rocks beneath her feet slippery with algae and moss. Picking her way as carefully as she could, Astrid waded in just far enough to easily pick the little stalks waving beneath the surface without needing to stretch. Practiced hands quickly transferring wet bundles of green into the basket looped over her arm despite the slow weakening of her fingers and dimness of the light.

When she'd gathered as much as she could safely reach, Astrid started making her way back to the shoreline. Following the wavering beacon of her candle flame as she finally realized just how dark it had gotten since she entered the creek. The numbness of her feet making the trek over the now invisible stones even more precarious as the aches in her chilled legs made her limp slightly.

Not wanting to risk losing her bounty to a stumble, she tossed the basket up onto the bank as soon as she was near enough. Then she heard a rustling in the trees behind her and she spun quickly to look. The action nearly costing Astrid her footing. She found her balance again quick enough, though. Her gaze already scanning the darkness in front of her.

It was at this moment that she saw the eyes. Great green glowing things as bright as emeralds. Set into a wide, flat head that was unlike that of any creature she knew of. Whatever it was, it was staring right at her from the opposite bank and it startled her so badly that she stumbled back. Her body twisting on instinct to catch herself with her hands and she landed chest down in the chilly water with a gasp as the cold sucked the air from her lungs.

Spluttering and cursing, Astrid struggled her body up onto the muddy shore as quickly as she could. One hand reaching blindly for the handle of her little lantern as the other wiped the water from her eyes. Rolling over and pushing herself up into a sitting position, she cast the light around towards the creature. The flickering flame sent wavering shadows over the trees, but when she landed on the spot she had seen the monster, it was gone.

In its place was a large black dog with bright green eyes. The beast met her shocked gaze calmly for a few more seconds before turning away and disappearing back into the woods. Astrid sat and listened to the quiet rustle of leaves as it retreated while attempting to calm her racing heart. Then, with a muttered oath, she clambered to her feet. Gathering up her dress and basket, she cursed the stupid mongrel as she made her own way back through the trees towards home — now soaking wet, filthy, and even more miserable than before.

Ingrid had returned home late that evening bearing news that little Argh was beset with a terrible fever. If she hadn't needed additional supplies it was likely Ingrid would have simply stayed through the night. As it was, she was pleased to see the fresh Watercress Astrid had gathered, and she added a good handful to her medicine pouch along with the rest of the herbs before falling exhaustedly into her bed. She was asleep before Astrid had time to snuff out the candle.

The next morning found the twins out cutting drainage trenches in the far field while Astrid perched precariously on the roof — clad in her father's old tunic and trousers. Her tidy bonnet replaced with an old triangle of faded cloth tied around her crown. The outfit may be entirely improper for a lady to be seen in, but she'd take disapproval over falling to her death any day. Functional clothing did nothing to ease the discomfort of the task, however.

She had waved her mother off again at dawn and wasn't expecting her home until supper time at best. Now, though, she idly wished for her mother to be waiting down in the main room instead. Ideally with a cup of healing tea steeping and a soothing packet of scented herbs warming by the fire. Her back already ached from the hunched position and her knees hurt something fierce from kneeling atop the sharp reeds — and she'd only just started.

The task was even less enjoyable than usual today. The drenched grasses from all the rain had left the air too humid. Too heavy. The moisture in the air making her braided hair frizz, and it stuck to her face in a way that made her want to throw her mallet across the paddock.

She didn't even really need to be up here. The well-laid thatching had held its own in the gale, as it was meant to. Still, she was restless and antsy, and there was some old bird damage that she'd been meaning to mend anyway. It had seemed a good idea at the time to just get it over with before the next onslaught hit, but now she was seriously doubting the sensibility of that decision.

As the sun climbed high in the sky, Astrid heard the clatter of a wooden cart trundling past. Glancing up from her work, she caught sight of the neighbour Ruffnut had spoken of the other day. Forcing a pleasant smile onto her face, Astrid called out a greeting as she held a hand up to wave. Gunnar looked in her direction for a brief moment, his eyes wide, before casting his gaze back down and carrying on at a noticeably quicker pace — as if he couldn't escape from her fast enough. His actions seemed a little odd, but then again she probably looked a fright with her frizzy hair and masculine getup.

Shrugging but unbothered, Astrid went back to work. Her neighbour's strange behaviour soon fading to become less than a memory.

A little while later and sweat was beading on her forehead and dripping into her eyes. The salt combined with the dust from where the rain had not managed to penetrate the dried reeds making her eyes burn. The repetitive motions of bale, crook, and leggett not doing much to keep her mind as distracted as she'd hoped. As she paused for a moment to wipe an arm over her face, she heard the thud of hoofbeats coming down the lane instead. The steady clomp, clomp, clomp drawing ever nearer.

If her mother was already on her way back, that meant bad news for the Ack family, and Astrid felt an ache settle in her gut at the thought. Whipping her head around, she searched the road for the source. Surely if she could hear it on the waterlogged lane, then the horse should be close enough to spot, but her eyes fell upon nothing other than what had already been.

Then she spotted a large black dog standing regally near the property's edge. It was there, plain as day, and its head was turned towards her as if it was watching her as well. It looked uncannily similar to the dog that she'd seen in the forest last night, but it was hard to tell from this distance. Now that it was daylight, she could tell that it also looked just like the wolfhound Hiccup had been travelling with.

She blinked once to clear her stinging eyes, but by the time she opened them again to take a better look, the dog had somehow vanished. Gone as if it had been nothing more than a trick of shadows and light. The ghostly hoofbeats fading right along with it as if they too had simply been in her mind.

Well, at least that meant her mother was still at the Acks', she thought blandly.

Huffing an angry sigh at herself now, Astrid flopped back on her rump. The sheered reeds poked her uncomfortably, but she was tired and grouchy and didn't really care anymore. Her eyes straying away from the spot the dog had been and over to the small patch of forest backing the pasture instead. From this vantage point, she could just see the top of the manor house beyond the creek. Its lonely grey spires reaching up to the sky - seeming to pierce the billowy plumes of angry clouds that still hung low over the eastern edge of the village.

The road went right past the Hofferson farm, but Astrid couldn't remember the last time she'd actually witnessed someone travelling to or from the manor. Servants used to transport supplies fairly regularly when Astrid was in her early youth, but in recent years the place had fallen silent. Its house and grounds hosted no raucous garden parties or holiday merriment. The grand estate now seeming empty and forlorn, despite its beauty.

The people in the village used to whisper about the Haddock family almost more than they did about the Hoffersons. Most of them having never seen hide nor hair of the nobles. It was rumoured that the Lady of the house had died tragically many years ago, and her husband had become something of a miserly recluse in his mourning. Astrid wasn't sure how true any of that was, having never met the Haddocks either, but it all sounded terribly sad to her.

As a child, Astrid had let her mind weave fanciful tales about the place to get her through the long hours of work. Her once vivid imagination picturing ghosts in elaborate dress twirling in the ballroom or wandering silently along the empty halls. Chandeliers as dark and faded as dead stars hanging over their heads as their graceful steps left no trace in the dust upon the floor.

Of course, she had no idea what the inside of the home actually looked like. She'd never been in there. Ruff and Tuff had tried to convince her to sneak in once when they were about ten years, but she'd been too afraid of getting caught by the grouchy old Earl. Or maybe she'd have met a ghost instead, she mused. If the rumours were to be believed, both were equally likely.

For the first time in a long time, though, smoke was slowly escaping from one of the chimneys. Was Hiccup there right now? Perhaps wandering those lonely halls alongside the misty spectres of his ancestors? Had the hoofbeats somehow been him making his way home? Maybe if she ventured far enough through the trees she would be able to see him out on the grounds. Prove he was as real as she was…

As soon as that thought crossed her mind she immediately cast it aside. Astrid Hofferson knew her place in this world and it was nowhere near where the Haddocks resided. Hiccup may have briefly sheltered in their home, but that did not give her permission to go poking around the manor grounds in return. If she tried, she was more likely to get chased off by an angry groundskeeper than to actually catch a glimpse of any of the nobles.

Exactly when had she become such a fool, Astrid wondered blandly. Must just be a slow onset of madness that had her conjuring up strange, ghostly dogs and completely irrational thoughts. Likely brought on by the mixture of relentless rain, mental exhaustion, and Ruffnut's silly rumours.

Yes, that had to be it.

Astrid was not normally one to let any man get under her skin, no matter how handsome or mysterious. Hiccup Haddock - or whoever he really was - was not about to be the first either. She utterly refused to lose her head, or any other part of herself for that matter, to a ghost.

Grumbling to herself, she finally tore her eyes away from those intriguing spires beyond the trees. Her gaze shifting towards the sky instead - noticing that the clouds seemed to be closing in again. Swinging the mallet perhaps harder than necessary in her frustration, Astrid inserted one final peg to hold the new bundle securely in place. Then she yanked her crooks from the roof and leant back to admire her work.

The patch would do well enough, and Astrid couldn't keep herself from smiling as she gathered up her tools. Who needs a man, she thought proudly as she lowered the bucket of supplies back to the ground. More determined than ever to push her dark prince firmly back into the recesses of her mind where he belonged.

Why she had even wasted her time in the first place was anyone's guess. He was just another stuffy land owner who couldn't be bothered with his people unless there was something he needed from them. She was better off not seeing him, really.

With those happy thoughts in mind Astrid headed into the house to scrounge up something for supper. Hopefully something that wouldn't leave her family suffering a visit from the same demons Tuffnut was currently entertaining either.