Prodigal Son 39

Astrid encountered significant delays getting back to The Cove. She knew Hiccup would be there. Fishlegs too. The day had been too important to not debrief, but the first order of business was the drop the empty fish baskets off at the docks.

As she made her way through Berk she noted how various Jorgenson, and Jorgenson-allied individuals seemed to be carefully noting her movements. Even following, at a careful distance. Perhaps others of the village – fishermen or farmers wouldn't have noticed the subtle changes in direction, but Astrid was a warrior. Always watchful. Always on guard. And she noticed immediately as the gang of warriors began to coalesce some distance behind her. Alarm bells ringing in her head, she kept her shield slung across her back, and axe in hand as she set out in a random direction into the forest and made several wide circles.

Her caution was rewarded a few minutes later as she crouched in some bushes and watched the gang follow her random trail into the wilderness of Berk's forests, heading in the opposite direction of Raven Point. She noted their faces as they passed – friends and cousins of Jerrick and Snotlout. Were they after Hiccup, or her? Had they gathered to try and catch the dragon rider off-guard? It was a worrying evolution in their resistance. Thankfully the Jorgenson warriors were strong and stubborn, but not too cunning.

Astrid traveled by hopping across rocks, along the massive roots of trees and using creeks and thick brush to hide her tracks. Several times she went airborne, kicking off of tree trunks and swinging on branches to leave fifteen or twenty-foot gaps where there was no trail at all on the ground. She tried at those moments to add turns and twists to try and further throw off her pursuers.

Despite her confidence that she had outwitted them, she still took a long, circuitous route to the Cove, doubling back several times upon her own path to make absolutely sure that no one had picked up her trail. Even if they failed to catch Hiccup there, they could still find Stormfly.

Gods damn it all… she should have expected this, but it still shocked her that they would actually try to follow her. Their intentions were almost certainly violent. It couldn't be curiosity alone which drove them after her, and they were armed. The warriors simply wanted to make their new 'problem' disappear.

Gods… was Berk really so determined, so stubbornly committed to rotting away, unchanging? Would they be willing to injure – willing to kill – to prevent Astrid from succeeding?

They wanted to attack Hiccup… In her mind's eye she saw both the small boy who had been so frail and vulnerable all those years ago, and the tall, slim young man with the auburn mane to whom she had grown so attached. She imagined either of them at the mercy of Jorgenson axes and swords and let out a low growl at the thought. Her grip on her axe handle tightened. She blinked several times and shook her head to clear it of the red mist which was rapidly descending. A part of her wanted to march right back to the patrol and confront them head-on. Would she fight Berkians? Kill them to defend him? To defend herself? Not to mention Stormfly, Toothless, and the future she was working for?

Astrid blinked; the thought brought her to a dead stop atop a root system in the middle of the silent, gloaming forest. She tried to imagine the scenario, to see how it would play out, and it was a nightmare… to try and explain what happened? The village would never see her side of the issue. So would she just have to bear the weight of the murders? Simply do the deed, keep her peace, pitch the bodies into the roiling ocean out by the sea stacks where no one ventured, and allow the black deeds to simply be swallowed by dark, silent forest…

After all, as Stoick had observed, this was Berk. Death happened.

Would she have the will to do it? Would she be able to live with it afterwards? The point was to avoid fighting, after all. What good did it do Berk if instead of the dragons killing them they were just killing each other?

She had known from the very beginning that it would be hard to change her tribe's mind, but would it really come to blows? Dragon attacks were a matter of life and death, but was the machismo and purpose of standing on the wall – of being a warrior - was that really a matter of life and death?

Jerrick had already attempted to challenge Hiccup to combat, but that was careless chest-puffing… Right?

But the Jorgenson clan and their allies were made of careless chest-puffers, so… how bad would this actually get?

Astrid realized that the idea her fellow warriors would turn their weapons upon her had never entered her mind. She felt a chill grip her heart, and she wondered if she had made a grievous miscalculation as to how far the tribe would go to defend its traditions.

Barbarians… on some level, in a way, Hiccup had been right about them. Was this what he had seen all along growing up alongside her and the rest? Astrid had managed so far to keep the village talking, but what would happen if the talking stopped? What was left? Just violence.

Astrid knew Hiccup was smarter than she was, and it had irked her when the wayward prince had so brazenly dismissed his own people as mindless thugs, but now? Astrid felt more than irked. She felt enraged, and not at Hiccup. Rather she was infuriated that the Jorgensons seemed so determined to prove him right. Was Hiccup right? Did the Jorgenson's willingness to commit violent acts not to protect the village from dragons but to protect the dragon-killing culture of the village from change indicate that Berk was already beyond saving? Was it worth saving? Were those even different questions? Did Hiccup see them as different questions? Was Berk worth saving if it was beyond saving? If it was beyond saving, then what good did it do to even try? Had Hiccup been right all along when he simply took his dragon and flew away?

She sighed and settled onto knobbly root, trying to work her way through the multitude of questions. As always, she returned to her Uncle Finn, and what he had been willing to sacrifice for his tribe. She grimaced as she remembered his final challenge to the Flightmare, standing alone against Hel's fury with Astrid and her family cowering behind him.

No. No they were different questions. There were things worth saving in Berk. Worth dying to protect. Worth changing to protect, and Astrid knew that, whether her village was already past salvation or not, she would absolutely die trying to move the village in the right direction. She would die trying to save them, as Finn had. Even if it was from themselves. There was hope – just not from within the Jorgenson clan, and she hoped, prayed, that Hiccup would be willing to stay and fight beside her.

Hiccup and Fishlegs were seated on either side of a small campfire, yet again playing King's Table. Astrid could see that Fishlegs' white pieces had full run of the board; Hiccup's heart wasn't in the game at all. His mask was on the ground beside him, his hood down across his shoulders. The young man's feathered auburn hair hung over his eyes, tangled and windswept. His expression was morose.

At the sight of Fishlegs, Astrid felt her temper rise again. Traitor! And yet Hiccup's sad, sullen face had caught her attention, quenching her rage as quickly as it had arisen, like red-hot iron into a barrel of water. He looked exhausted, his eyes dull and glazed as he stared down at the board. The young man looked up at her and that spark which seemed to light up his face expression whenever he set eyes on her simply… wasn't there.

Its absence hurt her a lot more than she cared to admit. The world suddenly seemed dark and hollow.

She sighed and pulled up a third stump, ignoring the way Fishlegs grabbed the board protectively. Hiccup was still watching her as she sank down beside them.

"Where are the dragons?" she asked

"Stormfly needed to stretch her wings. She'll be back in an hour or so." Hiccup murmured tonelessly. He nodded over to his lean-to. "Toothless is in there, sleeping. He had a lot to eat today so I'll need to put him through his paces to work it all off."

She nodded and stared down at the board, wondering where to start. She said, "they tried to follow me out here."

Hiccup seemed to shrivel further, and yet his expression grew stormy.

Fishlegs nodded in agreement, his gaze still fixed on the playing board so she could only see the left half of his face. He said, "there has been an… escalation..."

"Oh, shut up, Fishlegs." Astrid snapped, glaring at him, "you walked away too with the rest of them! Or was that another of your super-smart plans?!"

He finally turned to face her directly, revealing the massive purple bruise forming around his right eye. There was a cut on his lip as well, patched with a wad of Gothi's medicine. Fishlegs said, "a few of the Jerrick's friends felt I was too… polite… in my dismissal of Hiccup in the ring today."

Astrid stared, turning white, and then bright red with rage as she imagined what they had intended for her. Worse still, what would happen to Ruff and Tuff, not to mention Sirnir and the impressionable few warriors who had stayed? "…who?"

"Jorgensons. Who else?" Fishlegs' gaze snapped back to the board, and he made a move, clicking the pieces as he removed two of Hiccup's. "It doesn't matter. We won't strike back. Can't afford the excuse to provocation. And to answer your question, yes. It was my plan to walk away from the lesson in full view of Berk. I will maintain my conservative position in the Tribe."

"What for, though? I need help, Fishlegs. We need support! As much as we can get!" Astrid said feeling a little sheepish.

The man shrugged, "how will we know what our opposition is thinking and planning if we are not amongst them?"

"Fishlegs…" Astrid said, feeling a small amount of admiration for how far ahead the enormous viking's mind worked.

"They won't touch Sirnir." Fishlegs said, "Or my wife and the others. We need every warrior up on the Wall and in fighting condition. They know that." He glanced at Astrid, "just… watch yourself. You're the lynchpin and they know it."

Hiccup groaned and hung his head, running his hands through his hair, "this entire day was such a disaster…"

"You're wrong, Hiccup." Fishlegs smiled, his face only half obeying him due to the swelling around his eye and mouth, "I think it couldn't have gone any better!"

Hiccup and Astrid both stared at him in angry shock. Hiccup said, "We didn't even talk about dragons, Fishlegs! Almost all of them walked out! They spat at me! They attacked you! They followed Astrid…" Hiccup searched her face, desperately, helplessly apologetic. She gave him a wide, cocky smile, and watched his shoulders untense. He smiled tentatively back at her – one of his cute little half-smiles. She realized he had been worried she would be angry with him for the Jorgensons' behavior. That she would be angry with him? Ludicrous!

Astrid said, "you think I couldn't take on a couple Jorgensons? You know Snotlout's the best fighter they have, right?"

A little of that spark remerged in his eyes as his little smile turned into a grin.

"Day could have gone a lot worse, I suppose." Astrid said, tearing herself away from his bright green eyes.

"It was a great day!" Fishlegs agreed, "Consider: This is the first time since our tribe settled here that a group of Berk Vikings were near a dragon and didn't try to kill it." He glanced up merrily at Astrid, then to Hiccup and said, "your move."

"I uhh…" Hiccup blinked, turning away from Astrid to look at the board.

Astrid raised an eyebrow, considering Fishlegs' statement. It was true. Every Berkian who had ever lived, right up from the very first Vikings to settle the island, had all fought the beasts. It was a feud generations upon generations old. Centuries old. Not just a part of life, but a way of life. And yet… Berkians had come. They had sat. They had listened. A few of them had fed the beast. One or two had laid their hands upon it… and no violence.

Fishlegs was right: that was something momentous by itself. Hiccup was already smiling, having reached the conclusion a few seconds before Astrid.

"If all I have to pay for that is a black eye, I'll take it!" Fishlegs said merrily.

Hiccup's grin faded a little, "let's hope that's all we have to pay," he said darkly.

Fishlegs nodded. Addressing Astrid, he said, "I'm more interested in what you said to Sirnir."

Astrid cleared her throat, feeling a sudden, horrible discomfort; she had not been looking forward to bringing her deal to her partners.

Hiccup was leaning over the board, elbows on his knees and hands clasped before him as he waited patiently for her to tell her story. Fishlegs was leaning back on his stump, hands on his knees, watching her.

She looked from one to the other and shifted, "I… well, I… I had to get him on our side."

"Yes?"

"And so I…" she hesitated one more moment and waved at Hiccup, "I drew the Valknut like you did for Gothi – carved it right into the arena wall."

Hiccup raised his eyebrows, an amused grin creeping back onto his face, "told you."

"Shut up!" Astrid laughed.

Fishlegs looked far more skeptical, "and that turned him?"

She shook her head, "I cut a deal with him."

Hiccup's grin was only growing, yet Fishlegs' eyes narrowed, "a deal?"

"I promised him – I swore to him that…" she looked to Hiccup, "that I would let him see your face…"

Hiccup turned white, his eyes wide. His lips formed a thin, severe line and he looked away from her, taking a deep breath. He launched himself to his feet, nearly knocking over the board as he stepped out of the firelight, his hands running through his hair.

Fishlegs let out a low, quick breath of her own, "I wish you had consulted with us first."

"there wasn't any time!" Astrid said, "I had to get the group back under control. You saw how things were developing… Sirnir is a good warrior. He's an honorable man, and he knows how to keep the younger warriors in line. He's a good ally."

"If he'll ally with us." Hiccup's voice echoed faintly from the darkness.

"Nevertheless." Fishlegs said, his voice patronizingly.

"You know what, Fishlegs, fuck you!" Astrid snapped, glaring at him, "every damn thing that's happened since we first found Hiccup's sketches has been one plot after another. It's always your plans and it's always your schemes. You hatch all these fucking plots in the background and I'm always the one who has to bear the weight. I was the one who nearly got exiled! I was the one who everyone hated! It's always me! It's always my face! It's always my reputation on the line! If you're always going to stay in the dark on this then I have the godsdamned right to do my own plans too! This is my fight every bit as much as it is yours! I'm not your underling! I'm not your servant! I'm not your slave! I'm not your puppet! We're partners! We're equals, and I'm not about to go running to you for every problem just for the sake of managing your fucking ego!"

Astrid realized she was on her feet, axe in hand. A quiet, leathery noise echoed around the Cove and she turned just in time to see Toothless' silhouette vanish into the evening sky, with Hiccup's slim frame atop him. "Hiccup? Hiccup!"

"It isn't for me." Fishlegs replied meekly.

"I… Hiccup!" Astrid took a few stumbling steps back, searching the deep purple sky for the rider, "Hiccup! Oh for Thor's sake!"

Silence fell across the cove, aside from the crackling fire. Astrid stared up into the inky sky. Fishlegs rubbed his hands together, "you may not have noticed, but our mutual friend has a lot of …issues… surrounding Vikings in general, and Berkians in particular."

"I know that, but we can't just… one day he's going to have to just… fuck!" she searched the sky desperately, but there was no sign of the lanky rider or his night fury.

"Astrid!" Fishlegs said, putting a little force behind his words to get her attention. She sighed and glared at him. Fishlegs said, "Hiccup hiding his face – his identity – from Berk: it wasn't my idea. It was his. It was a condition of his cooperation."

Astrid stared at him, fear knotting in her chest as she considered his words. "Would… he wouldn't just… run, though… right?" she asked uncertainly.

Fishlegs shrugged and bent over to pick up Hiccup's facemask. The enormous man hadn't even risen from his stump.

Astrid bit her lip, "okay…" she took a deep breath, fighting down her panic – hopefully Hiccup was just going on a flight to calm himself. "Okay… tomorrow you and I-"

"Me nothing," Fishlegs said sharply, rising to his feet and dusting himself off, "I fear my ego would only get in the way of your plans, Astrid. You're going to have to navigate this with him." Astrid glared at him. Fishlegs glared right back at her and handed her Hiccup's mask. He said, "besides, you're the only person on this island he'll listen to."

"Me?" Astrid stared at him blankly, "why?"

Fishlegs' eyebrows shot up and he shook his head in disbelief. He kicked dirt over the small fire to put it out.

Astrid swallowed and curled her hand into a tight fist, gripping the mask like a vice. She said, "Stormfly will be back in a few minutes. Nadders are tracking dragons. I'll follow Hiccup and… talk to him. Make him come back."

"Oh?" Fishlegs said dryly, "Night Furies are faster than Nadders; what if he's on an island a few hours away? Will you be gone from Berk till the morning? What will people say? What assumptions will the village make?"

Astrid shot him another death glare, and he shrugged, unconcerned, "just… following the threads, Astrid. On the other hand if you don't follow him, what might happen then?" Fishlegs stroked his beard thoughtfully as the final gloaming light ebbed. His eyes glinted in the shadows as he watched her carefully, "he may just… not come back."

Astrid's stomach clenched and she grimaced. The moment when Hiccup realized what she had agreed to… the expression on his face – not just annoyance at her, but shock at what he no doubt felt was a careless betrayal. Frustration bubbled within her; how could he be so… so stubborn? So fearful? So… so unwilling to just... just be himself in front of others? How could life be so complicated? Why did every solution have to be another problem?

And yet… she had read his diary. Astrid knew exactly what Hiccup had thought of his home village, and he knew exactly what they had thought of him. What she had thought of him. Surely time would have healed those wounds… or perhaps not. Had they instead festered and simple grown into an ugly, putrid hole in the handsome young man's soul? Perhaps there had been no healing to be found elsewhere in the world. And who in Hel's realm knew what else had happened to Hiccup in the intervening eight years… it was entirely possible Berk wasn't the only place he had been driven out of because of Toothless.

She also knew what the village would say if she went after him. If she failed to show up the following morning for Dragon Training. She knew what Berk would think. Everyone who didn't want this whole thing to move forward… the rumors would start… She was still betrothed to Snotlout. How would the Jorgensons react if they thought she was with him?

It was true that she had demanded a few years of freedom, but everyone on the island knew what was supposed to happen. Things were… expected.

Gods above! There were too many moments of late when Astrid found herself hating Berk as much as Hiccup had.

"Seems to me you have a choice to make." Fishlegs said, stretching, "as for me, I am going home to my wife and child. Good luck, Astrid Haddock."

And she was alone in the darkness, sitting on her log, gripping Hiccup's mask.

The un-silence of the wood descended upon her; the rustling of wind in the trees, the groaning of ancient trunks. The rustling of animals scurrying through the underbrush. The cawing of crows and hooting of owls. Underneath it all, the gentle trickle of water through the gulley which bisected their little sanctuary.

She stared at their game, trying to piece together the moves – Hiccup's and Fishlegs'. Fishlegs had clearly held the upper hand, but in the layout, each of them was thinking so much farther ahead – piecing together multiple intended and possible futures, making plans and contingences, moves and countermoves five, ten, fifteen steps ahead of what was shown on the board. Battling each other in their own minds long before the pieces moved.

It struck Astrid, staring down at the board, just how reactive she had been. The situation had required Sirnir's cooperation, but she had not entered the arena intending to turn the old viking to their cause. Nor had she expected Jerrick's challenge. She had simply dealt with the problems as they came and solved them with the tools at hand. It frustrated her, and she knew that her reactionary thinking – her lack of a greater strategy – was why Fishlegs had been able to position her again and again and again. It was also what had placed her in the position she now found herself. How did one stop solutions from becoming problems? By having larger strategic approaches. By planning ahead and seeing not just the next step, but the next ten. The next twenty. Gods damn Fishlegs! And Hiccup too. And Astrid for the lack of thought and care she had put into her own approach.

Astrid heard a leathery noise and looked up hopefully. But it wasn't Toothless who came to a gentle, flawless landing in the soft riverside mud, but Stormfly. The dragon let out an excited chirrup and strode up to her, nuzzling Astrid's shoulder and pecking at her hair. The dragon sniffed her hands, and let out an annoyed chirp.

"I'm sorry girl," Astrid said sadly, barely seeing the dragon as her mind churned into overdrive, "I didn't bring a snack…"

Stormfly straightened and tilted her head to the side, letting out an indignant squawk.

"Please don't leave…" Astrid said plaintively, reaching out to her dragon, "Hiccup and Toothless and Fishlegs all just left and I'm just… please don't leave. I think I might have really screwed things up, girl, I don't know what to do."

The dragon cooed and lowered herself down in front of Astrid, wrapping its wings around her, cocooning her in warmth and a strange, scaly softness. Astrid noted, with a fair amount of shock, that Stormfly had been fitted with a saddle and adjustable stirrups. The saddle was dark, cured leather – well-oiled, and held together with brass studs. There was a holster for her axe and a compartment behind her, already stocked with travel supplies. Plenty of thick straps hung from it where she could fasten hunting gear, even a canvas tent and sleeping roll if she wished. The saddle's underside was lambskin, to maximize comfort for Stormfly.

Astrid felt a burst of warmth towards Hiccup, and her frustration with him faded into a primal ache for his presence. The young man had put an absurd amount of thought, care and experience into the device. For all of his irritating flightiness, Hiccup understood the beasts, and what life with them would mean in a way which Astrid could bare grasp. She knew she couldn't let him leave, she wanted him to come back, but she couldn't go after him, either. She felt adrift yet again, caught between the push and pull of forces all beyond her control.

"I… need to get back to Berk." Astrid told her dragon, after a few minutes of cuddling. Stormfly let out another loud squawk and lowered a wing so her rider could mount her.

Astrid stood before the front door of Hofferson hall, Hiccup's mask gripped tightly in her fist. She raised her hand to knock, and hesitated. Then she rapped smartly across the weathered wooden slats.

A few moments later, Brunhilda Hofferson opened the door, a stern look upon her face which melted the moment she saw her daughter, "Astrid?"

"Who in Hel's name is knocking at our door at this hour?" Haldor Hofferson called out. Brunhilda clicked her tongue in irritation. "Our daughter, you fool!" she called out over her shoulder, her anger tinged with amusement. Behind her Haldor smiled and gave Astrid a wave, which she returned.

Astrid licked her lips, "Hi Mum… can we talk? Somewhere else?"

Brunhilda smiled like the rising sun and the evening chill vanished from Astrid's bones. "Of course!"

Astrid led her down the path to the training arena. They walked across the long bridge, illuminated by the pale half-moon. It was one of the only areas of Berk which was not patrolled at night. There were still empty guard posts all around the perimeter of the arena, left over from days when there were more warriors to man them, but in the past fifteen years the Vikings had pulled back their defensive lines to the village itself and the surrounding farmland, surrendering the dragon training arena to the night. After pausing to make sure the arena itself was empty, Astrid found a seat on the pews facing the bridge, so that she could see if anyone was approaching. Her mother settled beside her.

"It's been a busy day." Brunhilda observed, watching her daughter with a sharp, piercing gaze. She glanced at the mask in Astrid's hand, and then back at her daughter's face.

Astrid nodded fervently. She found herself scanning the skies for a dark silhouette, listening for Toothless' whistling.

"I saw you in the ring today with the night fury."

"Toothless," Astrid said absently.

Brunhilda raised her brow, "it has a name?"

Astrid nodded.

"And the rider. This… Promitus?"

"Prometheus." Astrid corrected.

"Of course." Brunhilda said smoothly, watching Astrid's face. "He seems very comfortable around that dragon." The mother observed. After a moment she added, "…and around you."

A small part of Astrid's brain tugged at her; her mother was fishing for something. Normally Astrid's walls would have shot up, but the day had been so full of pain and turmoil and frustration and she felt so weary that she didn't even care. She just scoffed and said, "Yeah well I might have just screwed that up."

Brunhilda pursed her lips, a brow rising, "oh?"

"I broke a promise to him. And now he's flown off."

"Really?" Brunhilda said again, letting her daughter draw herself out into the open.

"I… look it wasn't my fault!" Astrid snapped, "I needed Sirnir's help and he wouldn't help without forcing me to make the oath. The whole thing was falling apart and I had no options!"

"Hmm… and what was the promise?"

Astrid sighed, "I promised Sirnir I'd let him see Prometheus's face."

Brunhilda blinked, nonplussed. She shrugged, "…how …horrifying?"

Astrid laughed dryly, "yeah. Really awful. I'm a monster, mum." She huffed in exasperation, "he's such a… an idiot!"

Brunhilda stifled a triumphant little laugh and Astrid stared at her, "what?"

"Nothing." Brunhilda sat back and cleared her throat, "Prometheus seems like a very …private person."

"He's… it's…" Astrid shifted uncomfortably, suddenly realizing she had no idea where to even start. She chewed on her lip for a second and then said, "there are things I can't say, mum. Not yet." She shrugged helplessly.

Brunhilda smiled at her, "well what can you tell me?"

"That he's good for Berk." Astrid said immediately. "That his ideas are good for Berk. That… that he's an idiot and I'm tired of… handling him and Berk and – and everything! I'm just… I'm tired."

Brunhilda sighed and leaned forward, smothering her daughter into a warm embrace which Astrid accepted wholeheartedly, lying her head on her mother's shoulder. She said, "If I go after Prometheus and chase him down to get him to come back, then tomorrow I won't be here for the village. People will say – they'll think he and I -" she turned bright red, but kept digging. "It'll cause problems. I committed to - Snotlout."

Brunhilda nodded understandingly.

"But if I stay then I might not be able to find him and bring him back."

Brunhilda frowned and said, "if he's on dragonback, then how exactly do you intend to catch up with him?" She suddenly froze, staring blankly into space as the realization hit her.

At the same moment, Astrid sprang away from her as if scorched. Mother and daughter stared at each other.

"Astrid?" Brunhilda was watching her daughter carefully, cautiously, "Astrid… what have you done?"

Astrid opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

"Astrid, tell me the truth!" Brunhilda snapped.

Astrid took a deep breath. She was so tired of hiding – of lying. The Jorgensons were beyond saving… but was everyone else? Not Fishlegs, but he too was an exception in the way Hiccup had been: somehow free of the warrior culture programming which had at every level infested Berk's society.

Astrid stared at her mother, suddenly terrified. If she couldn't convince Brunhilda Hofferson that flying dragons was a good idea, what hope did Berk truly have? What hope did Astrid truly have? Would she have to run too?

"I just realized that if I… if this doesn't work… I might have to leave Berk."

Brunhilda pressed her lips together in a thin, furious line. She took a short breath and said, "then we're going to have to make damned sure it does work. What do you have to tell me?"

"That I didn't…." Astrid hesitated a moment longer and said, "that I didn't ride back to Berk on a raft, mum."

Brunhilda's brow furrowed, "and?"

"No. Well… it's complicated." Astrid said, remembering the lessons of Hiccup's diary. She said, "I… saved myself. By taming… I tamed a deadly Nadder and flew back to Berk on it."

Brunhilda's eyes closed slowly as she processed the statement; her fears confirmed. For a moment Astrid was a child again, staring up at her mother's disappointed face after she had spilled the stew pot into the fire. The words poured out like water from a burst dam. "Her name is Stormfly and she loves Chicken and hates when I get knots in my hair." Astrid wasn't sure why that part was important. It just seemed… it was Stormfly, not The Hated Enemy. Her friend. Her Dragon. With her own quirks and idiosyncrasies and… personality.

Brunhilda opened her eyes again, her expression a storm of disappointment, love, confusion, pride, anxiety and rage all kept in check by the self-control only a mother of fourteen could have.

Feeling like the world was spinning far out of her control, Astrid confessed frantically, "I tried to build a raft first but I got caught in a storm. I needed a sail for it – Stormfly was tangled in rigging from the ship and so I freed her and I helped her and so when I got caught in the storm and Thor brought a hammer strike - a lighting bolt! – down on my raft I was going to drown but Stormfly pulled me out of the water and… and I flew back to Berk on her. I've been hiding her in the forest."

She met her mothers eyes and added, "please… don't be angry."

Brunhilda stayed silent for a moment, watching as her daughter's face filled with worry.

Brunhilda laughed quietly and looked down at her hands. She took a long, deep breath. And then a second one. "I am… I am…" she shook her head, speechless.

"I'm sorry." Astrid said, trying to read her mother's expression as the older woman gathered her thoughts.

"I… don't know what to say, Astrid. Or what to think." Brunhilda confessed, "I've spent so many sleepless nights cowering from the beasts in the Great Hall with the rest of the womenfolk as you and the other warriors spent blood to protect us from them. Finn…" she shook her head helplessly.

Astrid felt as if her soul was draining out of her. "but… we can't keep doing that, mum. We don't have to pay in blood anymore. We can… we can change. They can change. Things can change, I swear!"

Brunhilda's brow furrowed, and her face suddenly filled with worry of her own. She wrapped her arms around Astrid again and buried her daughter's face in her shoulder. "I love you, Astrid. You're my daughter and nothing in Midguard, Valhalla or Hel's realm will stop that." She smiled into Astrid's hair, "not even you riding a dragon. And I'm scared. Thor's beard I'm scared. But I'm so glad you're talking to me again, Astrid. I don't know when I lost your trust but you've been keeping secrets for so long…"

Astrid pushed her back a little so she could look her mother in the eye. She felt relief pouring through her. "You always had it mum. I trust you. I always have. You know that! But I wanted to-"

"To protect." Brunhilda laughed. She shuffled down the bench and wrapped a meaty arm around her daughter, "You're Finn's niece. I remember when you were a wee little one, we would walk through the village together and you would share all of your stories of how Finn was training you. All the things you planned to do. How many dragons you would kill…" she smiled to herself, a hint of sadness in her eyes. She said, "I miss my brother terribly sometimes, Astrid. But I see so much of him in you. I wish he could have lived to see you grow into the incredible woman you are."

"Do you… would he…?" Astrid hesitated, the question had come out of nowhere and yet she feared the answer so much that a part of her didn't even want to ask, "do you think he would be ashamed? For…" she gestured at the arena, "for all of this? For Prometheus and… everything. Everything I've done…"

"Finn Hofferson? Not a chance." Brunhilda laughed, "you were more his daughter than Haldor's, Astrid. You were always different from your brothers and sisters. Apart from the rest of us. Your uncle loved you with all of his heart! The only thing you could ever do which would have caused Finn to feel ashamed was if you did not stay true to yourself." She gave her daughter a comforting squeeze, "…and I know you have, dragon-riding or not."

Astrid gestured helplessly, "but the dragons… we hate them, mum. Berk and Dragons… we kill each other. The Jorgensons-"

Brunhilda was shaking her head, "Finn hated what the beasts did to us. He hated that they put you and your brothers and sisters and cousins at risk. Finn took the risks he did – he joined the Berk guard and stood on the wall because he could do nothing less than put himself between the people he loved and the dangers of this world." Brunhilda frowned, teeth clenched as she glared into the distant past, "Finn Hofferson – my brother was not a hateful man, Astrid! And if he… if we had seen the things this Prometheus does – the things you've done - as a way forward. As a way to prevent the deaths …he may well have taken it himself. A good warrior doesn't hate. She doesn't love the sword for its sharpness, or the arrow for its swiftness. She loves what those tools allow her to protect. The Jorgensons are fools. They always have been. They've taken pride in being killers. The act of standing on the wall – the prestige and the power and importance it lent them – always meant more to them than what it defended. That has never been true for you. Or Finn. I don't think either of you ever for a moment enjoyed being a warrior. But you were always strong, and you always looked for a way to protect others."

Astrid let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. To her shock, tears followed it. She felt her eyes well up and drops flow down her cheeks as a combination of love, relief, and profound grief overwhelmed her. Her mother wrapped her arms, stroking her hair and rocking her back and forth.

"It's okay, Astrid," she said, "it's okay."

"I'm trying, mum. I'm really trying!" Astrid blubbered, feeling an absolute mess. An embarrassment, "I just want all this to stop but everyone's so fucking stupid!" she buried her face in her mother's shoulder.

Brunhilda held her for a long time.

At long last she pushed Astrid back and used the rough wool sleeve of her dress to wipe her daughter's eyes. She said, "your problem is very simple, Astrid: If you go after Prometheus, you may lose reputation with some of the village." She gritted her teeth, showing old steadfast Hofferson determination, "some of us. But if Prometheus disappears…?"

"Then everything falls apart." Astrid said, "I can't… I don't understand the dragons like he does. I need him to keep moving us forward. But the Jorgensons-"

"I think you're forgetting that this village is bigger than the Jorgensons, Astrid." Brunhilda said shortly, cutting her off, "the women of this village? Days ago we would have burned down Jorgenson hall for you if you had asked us to. People have faith in you, Astrid. Perhaps you ought to start having faith in the rest of us. And in yourself."

Astrid smiled at her mother, wiping her nose and cheeks off with her sleeve.

Her mother smiled back, "go get your idiot, and bring him back here. Keep us safe."

Astrid nodded. She hesitated a moment more and said, "do you… do you want to meet her? Stormfly, I mean."

"Absolutely."

She rose to her feet and motioned for her mother to follow. Brunhilda did so, determined to be there for her child. Astrid led her around the perimeter of the arena and down the ramp, into the training circle. She crossed to one of the massive doors, behind which she and Gobber used to house live dragons for training. There was a small pail with a few fish placed off to the side.

From within could be heard a gentle cooing noise.

Brunhilda noted, with some consternation, that the door wasn't actually barred.

"Astrid?" she said carefully.

Astrid said nothing. She merely pulled the door open and an excited squawk sounded around the arena until she shushed the creature into silence.

Stormfly's pale blue snout pushed the door open and she stamped out, flicking out her spines and stretching the way Astrid did after a long nap. Astrid worked quickly, feeding the nadder a fish and shushing her into silence, petting her gently on the snout. She put herself between the dragon and her mother, a little of the old fear creeping back in. She had no idea what she would do if Stormfly hurt her mother, and the fear was real.

"Astrid?" Burnhilda demanded, pleaded, going pale and taking a few steps back. The older woman had known intellectually what to expect. Yet there the dragon stood, colored in hues of blue and green, the sunlight shining off of its scales. Its bulbous beak and hot breath and beady eyes. The enemy.

Astrid realized that once again she had had no plan, and once again she cursed herself.

Yet it was Stormfly who acted first. The Nadder stopped nuzzling her rider and lifted her snout out of Astrid's reach so that she could sniff Brunhilda's scent. The Dragon's pupils went as wide as Astrid had ever seen them. The dragon let out a soft coo and sat back on her haunches. She tilted her head and chirruped at Brunhilda, still in that soft tone.

Brunhilda Hofferson stood frozen, fists balled as she fought against every instinct Generations of life on Berk had trained into her. She breathed hard through her nose, glaring at the beast, relieving an entire lifetime - generations of pain and grief.

Astrid stood between them, arms outstretched, trying to keep both of them as calm as possible. "Mum, please…" she begged. "Mum…"

"I've seen…" Brunhilda said, struggling through old pain and mortal fear, "…so many get killed by Nadders, Astrid."

"I know…" Astrid replied, "but this one won't hurt you! Please, Mum!"

Brunhilda blinked, hearing her own daughter's pleas. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, determined to do – to be what Astrid needed.

Stormfly reached carefully into the fish bucket and came out with a large salmon hanging from her beak. She extended her neck out over Astrid's head, and dropped the fish on Brunhilda, who caught it reflexively in her hands.

Astrid stared up at Stormfly, her fear giving way to grateful warmth. The dragon cooed again and nuzzled her rider. "Thank you, girl." Astrid whispered, petting her dragon on the snout.

Stormfly kept herself low, submissive as she stretched out her beak to Brunhilda. The older viking woman too a reflexive step back, cringing away, but just as quickly, she forced herself back, standing face to face with the dragon.

"What happens now?" Brunhilda asked.

"I don't know… share the food. It was in his notes. It's how you bond with them." Astrid told her, "it's how I did it."

Brunhilda took another deep breath to calm herself, and she stretched out her hand, holding the fish by her fingertips.

Stormfly let out an excited little chirp and snapped up the fish. The woman winced again but realized that her outstretched hand had not lost any digits. A few seconds later, Stormfly pressed her snout against Brunhilda's palm.

They stood there for a moment, Astrid's hands against Stormfly's flank, feeling the beast's heavy breaths and slow, steady heartbeat. Her mother stood before them, tentatively feeling the dragon's dry scales and hot breath puffing against her chest.

"Astrid…" Brunhilda's voice was filled with wonder.

"I know." Astrid placed one foot in the saddle and threw her other leg over Stormfly's back. Gods… Hiccup had done a good job; the saddle was incredibly comfortable. Even better with the warm, thick sheepskin traveling cloak Astrid had gathered around her.

Brunhilda stepped back from them as dragon and rider drew up to their full height. Astrid smiled down at her mother, shoulders squared, shield and axe across her back.

Brunhilda smiled and stared up her child, seated atop the very predator which had so terrified their little island for so long. Blond hair shining ethereal in the moonlight, and cold electric blue eyes alight with purpose.

Astrid grinned and said, "I love you, mum."

"I love you too." Brunhilda said, staring up at her daughter with shock and admiration. She shook her head a laughed, "I never would have imagined…you look like a Valkyrie, Astrid."

Astrid turned bright red and shrugged, she said, "I honestly didn't plan on any of this… but here we are."

"Astrid, this is…just… stay safe, okay." her mother begged.

Astrid scoffed in disbelief, "we're Vikings, mum. Occupational hazard." She kicked her heels into Stormfly's flanks and with a resounding whoomph the dragon launched herself through the hole in the area roof and off into the night sky. Astrid watched her mother and the empty area shrink into a small gray blob amidst the dark green forest and grey cliffs of Berk. The distant torches of the watchtowers glowed against the mountain's shadow, and the moonlight glimmered on the frothing ocean below.

Astrid held out Hiccup's mask so that Stormfly could smell his scent, "find him, girl! We need to find Hiccup!"

Hello! I hope you are all doing well and staying safe and healthy amidst the insanity of the world!So… this story was originally supposed to be a trilogy, but there's no way in hell I'm stretching this to three books. I just gutted the rest of this story and rebuilt it. You can probably see how things are already starting to speed up a bit :)

Credit to Tawnis from the Anime section of this website for doing some proof-reading on this chapter.

As a writer, Brunhilda is one of those characters I want to get perfect, but she's also very easy to write. You already know exactly what she's going to do. I don't even feel like I'm writing her,per se. Rather, I feel like she's standing behind my chair reading over my shoulder and getting ready to slap me upside the head if I don't do everything I can to help Astrid.

One thing I've always loved about Berk is how steadfast, determined and stubborn all the Vikings are. They stick to their guns. Sometimes it means that they don't want to listen, but it also means they love and care with all their heart and if they have a priority, they follow it. Brunhilda loves her daughter enough to make the choice to trust her, even if it means contradicting everything she's ever known.

Don't worry – yes Astrid is following Hiccup, but this is not going to be some 25 chapter world tour. It just felt right that Hiccup would leave - he's still got his issues. It's long past time Astrid learned a few things about where Berk's Prodigal Son has been for the past 8 years…