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Braids
Topic Started: 25 Apr 2016, 18:02 (1161 Views)
BeyondTheClouds777
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Dragon Egg

Astrid padded down the wooden planks leading to Hiccup’s residence on Dragon’s Edge. Her blonde hair, usually done up in a braid down her back, was disheveled, strewn over her shoulders, down to her ribs, wavy, and singed slightly on the edges. She dragged her axe along the ground beside her. Scrapes and cuts covered her arms, and a small bit of blood oozed from her side, where she had been grazed just slightly by an arrow. She had already washed the wound to ensure it didn’t get infected, and even though it was still bleeding, she didn’t bandage it; the bleeding was slowing. It was nothing to fuss over.

Two words: dragon hunters. That’s what Astrid and the other riders went through earlier that day, barely an hour ago. Dragon hunters. Astrid had been anticipating the attack, honestly; after a bit of silence on the part of Viggo and Ryker, it only made sense they were planning a demise, waiting for the right moment to launch their attack.

But unfortunately, anticipating assail or not, the riders hadn’t been ready.

They had been forced to attack, unprepared.

Although in the end, the battle came to a stalemate, Viggo withdrawing his men and Hiccup withdrawing the other dragons and riders, it was a close call. If Snotlout hadn’t brought out their crossbows with arrows impregnated with a strong sleeping-herb tincture, she didn’t think they would have made it.

But they did make it.

If just barely.

Astrid paused outside the slightly ajar door and, without knocking, pushed it open and headed inside. Toothless, who had been curled, sleeping, nearby, lifted his head and watched her. His prosthetic tailfin was reduced to smoldering wires; a flaming arrow had caught the fabric near the end of the battle, burning it thoroughly.

Aside from being exhausted, Toothless came out of the fight unscathed, unlike a few of the other riders’ dragons.

Astrid left her axe by the door and headed upstairs, towards Hiccup’s loft. Toothless laid himself down again to sleep, and Astrid barely acknowledged him.

Hiccup looked horrible. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, trying (and failing) to wind gauze around his head. When Toothless’ tailfin lit ablaze, they had crash-landed rather horribly. It was right after that that Snotlout brought out their arrows, and shortly after that, the dragon hunters retreated.

“Hey,” said Astrid, crossing the room, sitting down beside him on the bed. He paused to look at her, eyes carrying a somewhat dazed expression. She took the gauze from his blistered hands and wound it around his head.

“Thanks, Astrid,” Hiccup said, dropping his hands down. His hair was darker than hers, but she could still see that the very edges of his bangs had singed by flaming boulders fired from catapults.

“How hard’d you hit it?” Astrid inquired, tying off the gauze and putting her hands on her lap. She couldn’t remember a time she had been this sore before.

“Not hard,” said Hiccup, reaching up to feel the bandages. “It wasn’t hard enough to knock me out, so I think I’m good. What about you? How’s Stormfly?”

“Stormfly’s resting,” said Astrid. She thought back to the battle, remembering Stormfly’s wing getting hit by a catapult boulder. The dragon had sat out of the battle after that. “Her wing isn’t broken. Sprained, but Fishlegs helped me splint it up earlier.”

Hiccup nodded, just slightly. “Yeah…” he said. “I was helping the twins try and calm down Barf and Belch, too. They were hit by dragon root arrows and then...well...Ryker launched a bunch of eels into the sky…” He winced, shut his eyes, and shook his head.

“It was close,” he said. “Way too close. The whole battle...we made it out by dumb luck.”

“Yeah,” said Astrid, and she, too, shook her head. “It was definitely a close call. From here on out, let’s make sure we have those knock-out arrows on-hand in case of future attacks.”

Hiccup sighed. “No,” he said, “because the next time the hunters attack, they’re going to be anticipating we use the arrows. They’ll be ready for us. We need to keep coming up with new strategies, new ways to fight against them. If we do the same thing every time…”

“...They’ll be able to retaliate accordingly,” said Astrid, “every time.”

“Exactly,” said Hiccup, sighing. “Oh, Thor…” He put his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. “What about you? You all right?”

“Yeah,” said Astrid, “mostly. I got grazed by an arrow, but it isn’t bad…”

Hiccup instantly looked up, eyes searching her, looking for a lie. She was always doing it, after all, saying she was all right when she wasn’t, and she met his piercing gaze with one of her own.

One word: “Where?”

“Here,” said Astrid, gesturing to her side. “It’s not bad…” Hiccup looked to where she had gestured, frowning.

“It doesn’t look not bad.”

“It bled a little,” said Astrid. Needlessly, more than likely, because half of the blood was staining her shirt. “But it’s not deep.”

“You should bandage it anyways.” Of course. Hiccup, always one to look after the needs of others.

Astrid nodded, because Hiccup would never let it go if she didn’t. “I will.”

“And I have some red dye,” Hiccup said, “you know, if it stains…”

“Thanks,” said Astrid, pushing her hair out of her face. She hated her hair down. It got in the way when she was riding dragons or fighting; she wondered where she could find any hair bands, because the only ones she had had been lost in the fight…

“Here,” said Hiccup, and he reached over, pulling a slightly singed piece of leather from his desk nearby and pressing it into her palm. She looked down at it, and then back up him. “For your hair,” he said.

“Oh…” said Astrid. “Thanks.” She never knew how he did it; looked at her and discerned what she was thinking. But then again, he knew her better than most. Sometimes, she thought he knew her better than she knew herself.

“I cut off one of the largest singed parts,” said Astrid, taking a shorter clump of hair into her hand and looking at it; it barely grazed her shoulders, a complete contrast to the rest of her long hair. “But...I doubt this is long enough to fit in my braid again…”

It seemed off-subject, to be talking about hair when they had just fought one of the most intense battles yet, but she always talked about the small things with Hiccup. He was one of the only people who listened.

Hiccup looked at her, at the strand of hair, and then, she saw that small light go on in his eyes. He had an idea. “Turn around,” he said, and he sounded serious, so Astrid complied, turning so that her back faced Hiccup’s front, fiddling with the thick, somewhat long piece of leather in her hand.

Hiccup took the clump of Astrid’s shorter hair and twisted it between his fingers. It took Astrid a few moments before she realized what he was doing.

“Are you braiding my hair?”

“Hey, you braid mine,” Hiccup instantly protested, still weaving Astrid’s hair together. “I can return the gesture, can’t I?”

Astrid didn’t say anything else after that. She simply let him do what he wanted to do, feeling like she should say something, but deciding against it. It felt strange, having someone else do her hair when she had always done it herself. Sometimes she had her mother do it for her, but the occasion was seldom.

Hiccup paused. “There,” he said, releasing her strand of braided hair and, taking her by the shoulders, spinning her around. “What thinkest thou this, milady?”

Astrid decided against pointing out how goofy he sounded, and instead raised her hand, feeling the braid between her fingers. It wasn’t like the braids she was used to doing with her hair; this braid was looser, and it didn’t follow a specific pattern. Every few weaves, there was a knot-like twist Astrid had never seen done before, and Astrid looked up, meeting Hiccup’s hopeful eyes.

“I think it’s beautiful,” said Astrid, “but it’ll still fall in my face when I fight. It’s too short to tie back.”

Hiccup paused, thinking. “Then how about,” he said, gathering her hair and pulling it over her shoulder, with the braided short clump, “you braid it to the side instead of to the back?”

Astrid shrugged, just slightly.

“In which case,” said Hiccup, “may I?”

“Sure,” said Astrid.

Hiccup braided her hair over her shoulder, and this time, she watched him do it. Every three or four strands, he would take one, twist it around the partially weaved braid, and then join it back with the other strands, repeating the process until he reached the end of Astrid’s hair. Somewhere in the middle, he had tied in the braided clump of Astrid’s shorter hair, making one braid.

She handed him the leather cord, and he wrapped it around the end of the braid and tied it off, almost like she done with the gauze around his head.

“There,” he said, sitting back to admire his work. “See?”

It was definitely different than anything Astrid had done with her hair before. But at the same time, she loved it, better than she loved the braid to the back, because this new side-braid was something Hiccup had come up with, something he had done on his own, because he loved her and would do (and did do) anything and everything to help her, even with the small things.

“It’s...it’s perfect, Hiccup,” she said, feeling the braid again. “Thank you.”

Hiccup shrugged. “You’re welcome,” he said.

There was a beat of comfortable silence, in which Astrid’s hand rested on his, and her head rested on his shoulder. They leaned against each other, exhaustion finally catching up with them.

Four words: “I love you, Hiccup.”

Five words: “I love you, too, milady.”

One-shot. Also posted on fanfiction.net.



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