In Preparation

 

FISHLEGS

There was a distant sound of footsteps heading in towards his house.

At first, Fishlegs had thought that it was his loving dragon Meatlug. The Gronkle was the boy's best friend, and acted like a motherly figure to him, if he had to say for himself, since Fishlegs' own mother was not present in Berk these days, having gone off to who knows where with a bunch of other Vikings on a three-month long expedition.

As much as Fishlegs didn't like to admit it, he actually loved his mother a lot more than you would have thought. She was bossy and stern at times, but then again, aren't all mothers like that from time to time? They just want the best for you, even if it meant being less lenient. In all her strictest rules and insane regulations Fishlegs found genuine worry and love, and that kept him from complaining about it too much.

He wondered what it felt like to not have a mother. It would be devastating, certainly.

Perhaps that was what Hiccup felt like.

Hiccup had lost his mother during a dragon raid, when a dragon had taken her away and promptly killed her. No bodies were found, so it was presumed she was dead. Of course, this happening had sparked some controversy, and even the chief himself was in denial for a fortnight, shutting himself into his desolate room. He had asked Brynja Hofferson to take care of his son during the time he spent locked up, preparing for yet another funeral. Brynja had complied, even though she still had her own daughter at home.

He couldn't help but feel sorry for Hiccup, and a slight twinge of guilt at how he and the gang had teased him before.

Fishlegs allowed his conscious to drift back to the Dragon Book in front of him, taking his distracted mind off from any disturbing thoughts. The book itself was an antique, passed down from generation to generation. It was written by Bork, the founder of this island that he and his fellow Berkians called home. It was filled to the brim with information of dragons and the like, and Fishlegs had been given the honor to continue it, filling in missing information and documenting any new dragons they had discovered from the Academy's numerous expeditions.

There was a sharp rap from the desk. "Hey, um Fishlegs, mind if I have a talk with you?"

Fishlegs glanced up from the Dragon Book, ripping his glued eyes from the page. "Oh hey Hiccup. What brings you here?" Out of all days, and yet here he was: the Chief's son, prompting for a nice chat with him. Did he do anything wrong?

Hiccup took a seat, scooting forward on the rickety chair. The scratching noise of the chair sliding against the floor made Fishlegs wince. "So you haven't heard."

"Heard about what? I've been a tad busy lately, Hiccup, studying the Dragon Book for preparation." Fishlegs flipped the page over, careful not to crease the paper. Whatever conversation Hiccup was going to start, Fishlegs did not want to hear a word of it.

"Let me guess." Hiccup scratched his chin thoughtfully, looking over and casting an annoying shadow over the already blurry text."Dragon races?"

"How did you know?"

"Just a guess." Hiccup leaned over the table. Fishlegs shrunk back, intimidated by the intense look that was radiating off his friend's face. "A Viking was killed today," he whispered.

"What?!" Fishlegs almost jumped out of his chair in alarm. He twiddled his thumbs nervously as he recovered. "H-how?" he asked timidly.

"That's where you come in. I need you to come with me to the scene before they take the body away."

Fishlegs chuckled, queasy. "I don't know about this, Hiccup. I promised Meatlug I'll take her to the beach today…"

"Fishlegs, please? You're the only one I can count on now, being the one with the most dragon knowledge."

"Wait a moment." Fishlegs wagged an accusative finger in front of Hiccup’s pleading face. “What does this have to do anything about my dragon expertise? Trust me, Hiccup, I’m not one for solving mysteries, and certainly would not want to get involved, thank you very much.”

“Ah, yes,” Hiccup replied. Fishlegs envied how fast he could move on to the next sentence; Hiccup didn’t even skip a beat. “I heard there were some...claw marks on the Viking’s stomach.”

“Markings?”

“Yes. Dragon markings, to be specific. So, will you come with me then?”

"Well…" He considered it. "I'll go. But only if the whole gang comes with me," he added quickly.

"Alright, it's settled, then. Meet me at the front of the Great Hall at noon, then." Hiccup tossed Fishlegs a wink, then promptly made his way out.

Fishlegs sighed and leaned backwards, crossing his arms behind his back.

What kind of mess had he gotten himself into this time?

---

Noon came by faster than he'd expected. Before long, he found himself stationed before the Hall, standing awkwardly by himself in the heat waves. He wiped sweat off his brow and patted Meatlug affectionately. The bumps on her skin tickled his fingertips as he stroked.

*Don't worry, girl. They'll be here soon." Fishlegs sighed. Still no sign of Hiccup, and he was supposed to be the one leading the expedition!

He spotted something descending from the sky then. The rhythmic flap of wings resounded in his ears as the dragon came down. And then came the bickering.

"It's going to be a Scauldron."

"No it's not. Are you daft? Scauldrons live in water, dummy."

"Can't it come out?" Tuffnut countered.

"Personally I think it's the Flightmare. It even has a scary name."

"You're the one not thinking now! The Flightmare doesn't come to Berk anymore. Have you even seen it kill?"

"Do you have proof?" Ruffnut quipped.

The twins' dragon, Barf and Belch, exchanged looks of annoyance as they landed hard onto the dusty ground, succeeding to jolt the twins out of their heated argument.

"Hey Fishlegs, who's right?" Tuffnut asked.

Fishlegs didn't want to be stuck in between.

"Yeah, Fishlegs. Who's right? Probably be me." Ruffnut chuckled, then faced her twin with a stern expression. "Bet you two cups of yakbutter parfait that he's gonna say me."

"Well then, I'll bet… I'll bet you Snotlout if I win," Tuffnut finished proudly.

"Ugh. I hate him."

"What did you say?" Snotlout came around the corner on his Monstrous Nightmare. He stared into Tuffnut's eyes.

"Oh…nothing really," Tuffnut assured him.

"He's lying. We were talking about your puny size," she said with a straight face.

Fishlegs tried to get everyone back on topic."Um excuse me, hate to break it to you, but-"

"Hey, what's going on?" Astrid's Nadder came to a halt, leaving dust spores puffing up in clouds. Fishlegs’ throat became irritated, and he coughed, waving off the plume of dust to the side. Astrid herself leapt off, brushing her bangs back as they shielded her view.

"Just the usual,” Fishlegs replied once he could speak properly, in the same tone he used every day when the twins were up to their normal jests.

“As I expected,” Astrid said sarcastically, with a swing in her lilt. “Hey, where’s Hiccup?”

“Probably in the forge.” During these past few years, Fishlegs had observed a change in Astrid. No longer in war with dragons, she had adopted a less violent attitude, and had learnt to be much more lighthearted. She’d become more sarcastic as well, a trait probably influenced by Hiccup. He positively dripped sarcasm wherever he walked, with those exaggerative hand gestures whenever he opened his mouth to talk.

Tuffnut stopped arguing with Snotlout. “Yeah, where’s Hic? He’s late.”

A shadow blocked the sun’s rays just then. Fishlegs looked up to see the dark hide of a dragon, and a certain boy riding on said dragon.

Astrid cupped her hands onto her face. “You’re late, Hiccup!”

As Hiccup came closer, Fishlegs saw the smile that he wore. “Sorry, m’lady! Busy at my house, fixing procedures and all that technical stuff. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to hear whatever’s going on in my head.”

“Your mind’s too confusing, and way too hard to grasp,” Astrid chuckled. “Now come down; we need you to sort things out before we leave.”

“Alright.” The Night Fury descended with flaps of its wings. Hiccup took out his journal and laid it split open on a rock. The gang coalesced together to see it.

As Hiccup was turning the pages to a blank one, Fishlegs caught a glimpse of hurried writing and numbers scrawled on the edge of the page. Amazingly Snotlout, with his short attention span and lack of detail-finding skills, also saw them. “Hey Hiccup,” he teased, “since when have you been keeping a diary?”

Tuffnut chortled at Snotlout’s snide comment. Ruffnut shot her twin a glance of annoyance.

“Um,” Hiccup replied, scratching his ear while still flipping the book’s pages, “since last month.”

Hiccup’s reply had Snotlout stunned, and put an end to Tuffnut’s blatant laughing.

“Ahh, here’s one.” Hiccup placed the pencil between his teeth as he took out his whittling knife. With three sharp strokes, the pencil was as good as new. The black lines inscribed themselves into the coarse paper. Fishlegs leaned in for a better look.

A house appeared with an X stamped on. “Bjarte’s house,” he whispered.

“Yep, that’s where he lives. I had a lively discussion with the Chief to get that bit of information.” Hiccup stuck out his tongue while he worked. “It’s strange how he lives on the outskirts of Berk, though. Besides his name and occupation, we don’t know anything about him, even though word spreads fast in the island.”

Broken lines were then laid out, one by one, as a sort of path. Landmarks were placed in between. The pencil wavered, then stopped, pointing at an area. “And there’s where we are right now. In front of the Great Hall.” Hiccup drew a circle, plotting the point clearly.

“Any questions?” Hiccup asked, putting back his pencil.

“Nope,” several people claimed in unison. “Should be easy enough,” Astrid remarked, heading towards her dragon.

“We leave now, then.” Hiccup also returned by his friend’s side. “Oh, and Fishlegs, be sure to bring your dragon knowledge with you. We need it.”

He didn’t even have to ask. Fishlegs gave him a brief nod.

“Let’s go, Meatlug.” Meatlug flitted her wings, and they were off, facing the scalding sun.

Ch6, Incomplete

 

SNOTLOUT

His luscious hair flew with the wind as he rode his dragon majestically. He was in the lead, and he enjoyed that immensely; he was like the alpha of the pack!

The gale howled in his ears irritably. A snippet of Hiccup's voice bore through his ear canal.

"Hey Snotlout! Do you see it?"

He pretended he did not hear him.

Snotlout's relationship with Hiccup had been off and on. He thought he was a pesky nuisance, always gaining pride points from others, while he himself was the one who deserved it. It was only because Hiccup had defeated the Red Death that he got praises thrown at him. He also had a Night Fury, a rare breed of dragon. Such things weren’t taken lightly around here.

Snotlout, at one point in his teenage life, was angry at him, partially because of Hiccup's boorish behaviour (he’d exiled him once, even), and also because Astrid was taken away from him. Though now that he thought about it, it was no matter. Stupid Astrid, with her bossy voice and sly ways. Besides, he'd caught the eye of another fine young lady.

Although, even despite all this dislike, he still respected Hiccup, and there were times when he wondered what the chief’s son had went through, especially in his adolescence. Snotlout admitted that he had been rather harsh on him; he wasn’t the only one though, as the rest of the gang had done the same. It had just seemed to them that Hiccup was useless and couldn’t do anything right. The pressure from his father must’ve pushed the boy out of his usual boundaries and made him seem weak. Snotlout could relate to this. His own father, Spitelout, had been on his heels the moment he could walk, wanting his son to be the perfect Viking.

However, by the time he, Astrid and Hiccup were seventeen, there was a drastic change in them, specifically Hiccup, who had caught on with his growth spurt. Puberty had been less kind to him, making him the shortest of the bunch, and the ideal target for the twin’s mockery.

“Snotlout?” Hiccup yelled. “Do you see anything out of the ordinary? Or perhaps Bjarte’s house?”

Snotlout shook his head in distaste. He led Hookfang in a gut-wrenching twist, off to his right. Trees, streams and rocks.“There’s nothing here, Hiccup. Stop yelling.” He changed his mind then. “Never mind, keep on yelling, until your throat gets sore.” Hiccup really needed a lesson on patience.

“Alright,” Hiccup replied sarcastically. “Tell us when you see something; remember, you’re the one out front.”

Snotlout nodded, pushing a stray loop of hair behind his ear. The steady rumble underneath him soothed his mind. He breathed in deeply and focused his entirety into searching for a rooftop or a hut looming in from between trees.

“You sure this Bjarte guy lives out here?” he asked, his suspicion disguised into a curious question.

He looked back towards the lanky boy riding on his equally sleek dragon. The auburn shrugged, armor creaking out of place. “Most likely, yes. I’ll have to trust the chief on this, don’t you think?”

Snotlout almost groaned, but he kept it to himself. It felt like hours had passed since they had departed from the safe confines of Berk. Not that it wasn’t safe out here; it was always safe when Snotlout was here, but he felt a little queasy at the thought of seeing a dead body. “How did the townspeople even know that he was killed when you said he lived far away from the center of Berk?”

“Oh, that,” was all Hiccup said, when a sudden gust of wind displaced the teen down towards the trees. His head reappeared minutes later, unruled and frizzled. “Sorry, mild calibration issues. Do you know of the expedition?”

“Nope,” Ruffnut said, her dragon zipping in front of Astrid’s Nadder to get closer to Hiccup. “Nuh-uh,” her twin shook his head eagerly, his dreads slapping his face. “You never tell us anything. So tell us now.” He leaned forward, as if expecting good news.

Hiccup sighed. “None of you know about it?”

Astrid placed one hand on her hip. “Of course not. It was deemed confidential. You probably know of it, because you’re the chief’s son.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Just hurry up and say it, okay?” Snotlout’s carefully managed patience was wearing out.

“Alright. Just remember, you are still on lookout.” Hiccup cleared his throat. “There’s been reports of these spherical metal traps located on the border islands of Berk. They’ve been given the nickname of the ‘Snaptrappers’. You know, after the dragon.”

“Traps? Like dragon traps?” Fishlegs questioned uneasily. He scratched Meatlug’s head.

“Perhaps, we don’t know for sure. Anyways, a group of Vikings were sent out in patches to investigate. One unit had wandered off to the outer limits of Berk and probably found Bjarte there, and brought the word back. The expedition is most likely where your parents are on,” Hiccup pointed to Astrid, “and where your mother is as well,” he commented to Fishlegs.

Tuffnut looked at Hiccup wearily. “That wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be.”

“I never said anything about exciting.”

There was suddenly a jerk as Hookfang spiraled downwards sharply, carrying a surprised Snotlout along with him. “What’s wrong?” he yelled, clenching onto the horns with an iron grip, afraid to be flung off.

He could hear Hiccup chuckling in the distance. “Looks like he’s found our destination. Riders, prepare to land. We’ve reached the Brandrson household.”

Hookfang straightened then, and the world’s pieces fell back into place. Snotlout shook his head dizzily. “Where am I?” he slurred incomprehensibly.

He landed softly, and his hands slowly loosened from Hookfang’s horns. “Well, looks like we’re here,” Astrid said, swinging herself off.

“Sure looks like an old house,” Fishlegs said.

“It’ll be fun to blow up, wouldn’t it, Ruffnut?” Tuffnut asked, a sly plan already forming in his head by now.

“No no, none of that.” Hiccup approached the house apprehensively, the rest of the gang following suit. “Spread out in the house. See if you can find anything out of place. I’ll be upstairs, if you ever need me.”

Snotlout climbed off the Monstrous Nightmare, overcome with post-Hookfang-acrobatics vertigo. He wiped his nose and went in the shabby hut. There were a few spiderwebs, which he brushed off upon his arrival, but besides those, the interior of the house was spiffy clean, not a speck of dust to be seen.

“He must have been obsessed with well-being,” Fishlegs whispered behind him.

“He’s a swordfighter. I bet there’s something wrong. And you can stop whispering now.” Snotlout walked up to a window. A stream greeted his view, as well as a few wildflowers and-

“What’s that?” Fishlegs questioned, walking up to his friend cautiously.

“That is definitely not normal.” Snotlout hurried upstairs, finding Hiccup admiring the sword drawings on the desk. He grabbed his arm and snatched the drawing from his hand. “Down. Now.”

“Something up?” Hiccup asked nonchalantly. Then his expression shifted. “Oh yes. Got carried away for a second.” He followed Snotlout down the squeaky steps and towards the open window. “I see you’ve found it.” A clap on the shoulder was delivered, and Snotlout rubbed at it, even though it didn’t hurt. “Great work. Now let’s go,” he motioned to the rest of the group. “You too, Fishlegs,” he admonished to the husky fellow leaning against the wall cowardly. “We need your knowledge.”

They were out into the sunlight once more, Snotlout in the lead. He ran past the window and over the stream, the water tickling his boots and soaking them. The splash of water from him running into it got into his eyes, and he blinked them out. “There,” he huffed, pointing at a rough silhouette.

From a close proximity you could see the shape of a helmet on its side, its twin horns laying on the ground sadly. “Cool,” Tuffnut breathed.

“I think the body was moved, Hiccup,” Fishlegs fidgeted. “You can see this trail of dry blood leading to the helmet.”

Examination

 

His luscious hair flew with the wind as he rode his dragon majestically. He was in the lead, and he enjoyed that immensely; he was like the alpha of the pack!

The gale howled in his ears irritably. A snippet of Hiccup's voice bore through his ear canal.

"Hey Snotlout! Do you see it?"

He pretended he did not hear him.

Snotlout's relationship with Hiccup had been off and on. He thought he was a pesky nuisance, always gaining pride points from others, while he himself was the one who deserved it. It was only because Hiccup had defeated the Red Death that he got praises thrown at him. He also had a Night Fury, a rare breed of dragon. Such things weren’t taken lightly around here.

Snotlout, at one point in his teenage life, was angry at him, partially because of Hiccup's boorish behaviour (he’d exiled him once, even), and also because Astrid was taken away from him. Though now that he thought about it, it was no matter. Stupid Astrid, with her bossy voice and sly ways. Besides, he'd caught the eye of another fine young lady.

Although, even despite all this dislike, he still respected Hiccup, and there were times when he wondered what the chief’s son had went through, especially in his adolescence. Snotlout admitted that he had been rather harsh on him; he wasn’t the only one though, as the rest of the gang had done the same. It had just seemed to them that Hiccup was useless and couldn’t do anything right. The pressure from his father must’ve pushed the boy out of his usual boundaries and made him seem weak. Snotlout could relate to this. His own father, Spitelout, had been on his heels the moment he could walk, wanting his son to be the perfect Viking.

However, by the time he, Astrid and Hiccup were seventeen, there was a drastic change in them, specifically Hiccup, who had caught on with his growth spurt. Puberty had been less kind to him, making him the shortest of the bunch, and the ideal target for the twin’s mockery.

“Snotlout?” Hiccup yelled. “Do you see anything out of the ordinary? Or perhaps Bjarte’s house?”

Snotlout shook his head in distaste. He led Hookfang in a gut-wrenching twist, off to his right. Trees, streams and rocks, nothing else that really stood out, or was of any interest to him.“There’s nothing here, Hiccup. Stop yelling.” He changed his mind then. “Never mind, keep on yelling, until your throat gets sore.” Hiccup really needed a lesson on patience.

“Alright,” Hiccup replied sarcastically. “Tell us when you see something; remember, you’re the one out front.”

Snotlout nodded, pushing a stray loop of hair behind his ear. The steady rumble underneath him soothed his mind. He breathed in deeply and focused his entirety into searching for a rooftop or a hut looming in from between trees.

“You sure this Bjarte guy lives out here?” he asked, his suspicion disguised into a curious question.

He looked back towards the lanky boy riding on his equally sleek dragon. The auburn shrugged, armor and leather creaking out of place. “Most likely, yes. I’ll have to trust the chief on this, don’t you think?”

Snotlout almost groaned, but he kept it to himself. It felt like hours had passed since they had departed from the safe confines of Berk’s centre. Not that it wasn’t safe out here; it was always safe when Snotlout was here, but he felt a little queasy at the thought of seeing a dead body. “How did the townspeople even know that he was killed when you said he lived far away from the center of Berk?”

“Oh, that,” was all Hiccup said, when a sudden gust of wind displaced the teen down towards the trees. His head reappeared minutes later, unruled and frizzled. “Sorry, mild calibration issues. Do you know of the expedition?”

“Nope,” Ruffnut said, her dragon zipping in front of Astrid’s Nadder to get closer to Hiccup. “Nuh-uh,” her twin shook his head eagerly, his dreads slapping his face. “You never tell us anything. So tell us now.” He leaned forward, as if expecting good news.

Hiccup sighed. “None of you know about it?”

Astrid placed one hand on her hip. “Of course not. It was deemed confidential. You probably know of it, because you’re the chief’s son.”

“Oh. Yeah.” His voice seemed apologetic, and his stance suggested it as well.

“Just hurry up and say it, okay?” Snotlout’s carefully managed patience was wearing out, slowly but surely, like his father’s pair of boots that were worn each and every day, despite Snotlout’s complaints of the boot’s obvious thinning out.

“Alright. Just remember, you are still on lookout.” Hiccup cleared his throat. “There’s been reports of these spherical metal traps located on the border islands of Berk. They’ve been given the nickname of the ‘Snaptrappers’. You know, after the dragon.”

“Traps? Like dragon traps?” Fishlegs questioned uneasily. He scratched Meatlug’s head.

“Perhaps, we don’t know for sure. Anyways, a group of Vikings were sent out in patches to investigate. One unit had wandered off to the outer limits of Berk and probably found Bjarte there, and brought the word back. This specific expedition is most likely the one your parents are on,” Hiccup pointed to Astrid, “and where your mother is as well,” he commented to Fishlegs.

Tuffnut looked at Hiccup wearily. “That wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be.” Barf and Belch careened back to their previous location, and both twins were irked, faces crestfallen.

“I never said anything about exciting, did I?” Hiccup’s mouth creased at his own action of snuffing out the twins’ daredevil imagination. “Although I can promise that when we get to our destination, they’ll be plenty of excitement for you two to savour off of.”

“Alright!” Tuffnut yelled ecstatically, punching his fist into the air. He exchanged a helmet-bump with his twin, quickly readjusting his helmet back on properly after.

There was suddenly a jerk as Hookfang spiraled downwards sharply, carrying a surprised Snotlout along with him. “What’s wrong?” he yelled, clenching onto the horns with an iron grip, afraid to be flung off. The wind was blowing straight into his face and around his ears, and the sound was deafening to his mind.

He could hear Hiccup chuckling in the distance, and held back the urge to complain. “Looks like he’s found our destination. Riders, prepare to land. We’ve reached the Brandrson household.”

Hookfang straightened then, and the world’s pieces fell back into place. Snotlout shook his head dizzily. “Where am I?” he slurred incomprehensibly, rubbing his eyes in the sun that suddenly decided to glower directly onto his face.

He landed softly, and his hands slowly loosened from Hookfang’s horns. He was panting for breath, relieving his throat constriction he’d received earlier. “Well, looks like we’re here,” Astrid said, swinging herself off.

“Sure looks like an old house,” Fishlegs said, observing the hut before them.

“It’ll be fun to blow up, wouldn’t it, Ruffnut?” Tuffnut asked, a sly plan already forming in his head by now.

“No no, none of that.” Hiccup approached the house apprehensively, the rest of the gang following suit. “Spread out in the house. See if you can find anything out of place. I’ll be upstairs, if you ever need me.”

Snotlout climbed off the Monstrous Nightmare, overcome with post-Hookfang-acrobatics vertigo. He wiped his nose and went in the shabby hut. There were a few spiderwebs, which he brushed off upon his arrival, but besides those, the interior of the house was spiffy clean, not a speck of dust to be seen.

“He must have been obsessed with well-being,” Fishlegs whispered behind him.

“He’s a swordfighter. I bet there’s something wrong. And you can stop whispering now.” Snotlout walked up to a window casually. A stream greeted his view, as well as a few wildflowers and-

“What’s wrong?” Fishlegs questioned, walking up to his friend cautiously.

“That is definitely not normal.” Snotlout hurried upstairs, finding Hiccup admiring the sword drawings on the desk. He grabbed his arm and snatched the drawing from his hand. “Down. Now.”

“Something up?” Hiccup asked nonchalantly. Then his expression shifted, and he sort of stumbled on his feet, embarrassment creeping up his face. “Oh yes. Got carried away for a second.” He followed Snotlout down the squeaky steps and towards the open window. “I see you’ve found it.” A clap on the shoulder was delivered, and Snotlout rubbed at it, even though it didn’t hurt. “Great work. Now let’s go,” he motioned to the rest of the group. “You too, Fishlegs,” he admonished to the large fellow leaning against the wall cowardly. “We need your knowledge.”

They were out into the sunlight once more, Snotlout in the lead. He ran past the window and over the stream, the water tickling his boots and soaking them. The splash of water from him running got into his eyes, and he blinked them out with a degree of impatience. “There,” he huffed, pointing at a rough silhouette while still catching his breath.

From a close proximity you could see the shape of a helmet on its side, its twin horns laying on the ground sadly. “Cool,” Tuffnut breathed, inching closer.

“I think the body was moved, Hiccup,” Fishlegs fidgeted. “You can see this trail of dry blood leading to the helmet.”

“I see,” Hiccup squatted down, scratching his chin thoughtfully like a detective. “Let’s move in closer, guys.” He stood up, brushing his knees, and set off towards the desolate helmet.

“I think I found something!” Astrid’s voice carried through from not very far away. Their heads jerked up at the sound. “Coming!” Hiccup returned, switching his original path.

Snotlout decided he’d be the one to investigate the body first. “You go on, then. I’ll find the Bjarte guy and then we’ll talk.” Hiccup gave his head a brief dip, and went back towards the blonde Viking with both her hands at her hips.

As Hiccup and Astrid were talking, Snotlout took control. “Fishlegs, Ruff and Tuff, we’re going to find the body first, then report back. Got it? And make sure, if you see anything that resembles a clue, tell me immediately.” He liked the feeling of authority. The twins were easily convinced, running over to the helmet and inspecting it. “Look at this, Ruff,” Tuffnut exclaimed, bumping shoulders. “There’s blood in the helmet.”

“Um…blood, you say?” Fishlegs raised up a forefinger. “Then he’d probably got a concussion, or a hit in the head.” A small patch of blood on a nearby boulder confirmed his guesses.

In the corner of his eye Snotlout saw Astrid and Hiccup run back. “There was a burnt patch of grass over there,” Astrid said, when she had returned with her boyfriend.

“We think the dragon must be of Stoker Class,” Hiccup continued, wheezing a little.

“-so I think that narrows down our options down,” Astrid finished. “And I doubt it’s a Terrible Terror, since they’re so small. Plus they travel in groups anyways.”

Snotlout thought for a moment. “So...what are our options?”

Hiccup paused. “The Typhoomerang is one. The Monstrous Nightmare, like your dragon Hookfang, waiting up front. There’s also the Fireworms, which is,” he took a breath, “not so likely. And of course, the Red Death, which isn’t even an option, really.”

Hiccup was interrupted by shouting.“Guys, guys! We found him!” Tuffnut’s face was beet-red, and pretty amusing to look at.

“Finally making some progress,” Snotlout muttered under his breath, then proceeded to follow the male twin. A figure was outlined on the ground, grotesquely bent.

Snotlout covered his mouth. “Yep, it’s him all right.”

The man was in his mid-forties, with a small scraggly beard that ran down his pointy chin like a skinny creek running over rocks. He had a bulbous nose, and his eyes were thankfully closed; Snotlout wouldn’t have wanted them to be open. There was a dashing of freckles on both sides of his pale cheeks. In one word: he didn’t look so well.

“Euugh,” Ruffnut said in disgust. “Look at the gashes on his stomach.”

Hiccup motioned for Fishlegs to come closer. Unwillingly, Fishlegs took small steps into the circle the gang had made around the man.

“I wonder why the Berkians who found him first didn’t move him some place else,” Astrid mused, pinching her nose.

“Well,” Hiccup said, playing with a stick without much thought, “I kind of question the morals of the Vikings back on Berk, you know? Remember the last time they thought someone was about to die? They were going to bring out their ‘dead Vikings’ for a funeral.”

Snotlout huffed. He knew the “someone” they were talking about was no one but himself, and that happened the time he thought he was going to die. Of course, he had avoided the certain death because it was an elaborate prank set by the twins the whole time.

Astrid punched Hiccup in the arm. “Ow!” Hiccup cringed, protesting. “What was that for?”

“You know that was just a joke?” Astrid said, pursing her lips. “Anyways, I think we have a more important matter on our hands.”

“Right, getting to it,” Hiccup said, throwing away the stick. “Fishlegs, tell me. What kind of claw marks do you think those are?”

"Umm…judging by the size and the placement of each claw…definitely either Monstrous Nightmare or Typhoomerang. I'll have to say Nightmare, since I don't see any spiral patterns burnt onto the ground yet. But I can't be sure." After his analysis, he made his way out off the close-cropped circle, breathing unevenly.

An idea came to Snotlout just then. "Wait a moment. Hookfang's a Monstrous Nightmare, right? So maybe I can bring him over and then you can compare."

“That’s actually…” Astrid faltered, “...a great idea.”

“Excatly,” Snotlout boasted. And he took off towards the front of the house, searching for his dragon on the grasses.

“Hookfang? I need you to come here!” he shouted, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. No sign of the unmistakable red and spotted orange hide anywhere. “Hey Hookfang, have you gone all weird again?” The Nightmare could be a little temperamental sometimes, and would go off into some quiet place to cool off, often burning up some ground as well.

“Hookfang?”

He was starting to get worried.

“Come on,” he murmured, his foot tapping in his wait.

Snotlout let out a squeak of surprise at his sudden fall to the ground. The culprit was Hookfang, who had nipped his back garment and dragged it down for fun. Hookfang snorted hot steam in pleasure.

“There you are. I need you to come with me now.” Snotlout got up, spit out a few blades of grass which had somehow wandered into his mouth, and walked briskly to where the gang were waiting. Hookfang treaded behind him, slightly confused.

“Now, Hookfang, show me your talons!” he commanded.

As Hookfang extended his claws, Fishlegs compared the claw marks from a safe distance. “Yep, those are definitely Monstrous Nightmare claw marks,” he commented, as Hookfang retreated back to the front of the hut.

“Alright.” Hiccup took his notebook back out again, taking out his charcoal pencil and jotting down a few quick notes, eyes squinting in determination. “There we go,” he said, putting his writing utensils and the notebook back in place. “So, what do you think? Should we head back?”

“Please,” Snotlout groaned. “It feels like we’ve been here for half a day!”

“Actually, it’s only been about two hours; you can see by the position of the sun, but I get your point,” Hiccup chuckled. “Let’s go.”

“Finally.” Tuffnut and Ruffnut ran quickly, reaching their dragon first. All of their dragons were waiting there, Toothless being the most bored, his head flopped onto the ground.”Hey there bud,” Hiccup said once he got close enough, “sorry we took so long.” Toothless cooed, then promptly jumped up enthusiastically, giving Hiccup a lick on the nose. “Toothless!” he complained, laughing.

Hookfang’s greeting wasn’t wet. With a snort of contempt, he had picked up Snotlout and was throwing him in the air, catching him and repeating the process. “Ugh,” Snotlout moaned, almost retching. “Put me down! I think I’m going to be sick,” he grumbled, as he was put down, stumbling head over heels like a Viking drunk on mead.

Snotlout seated himself comfortably, then placed a hand onto Hookfang’s snout. As soon as the dragon registered the contact, he took a leap into the sky, speeding way over Snotlout’s comfort zone. “Wait, slow down!” he screamed, although he rather liked the feel of being the fastest.

The grand Viking statues that marked the island of Berk loomed in front of them, their faces illuminated by an eerie glow that made them seem threatening. The sun was setting, its wise face peeking over the horizon, not wanting to leave. Today’s moon was supposed to be half-full, and already you could see the pale round circle hanging in the darkening sky.

As Snotlout was heading off towards his home, he managed to catch a few sentences exchanged by Hiccup and Astrid. Of course, they were not useful to him, but they piqued his interest nonetheless.

“There may as well be a rampant, murderous dragon out there, Astrid. And you know the only person in your household is your uncle Finn, and you told me he’s sick.”

“Hiccup, don’t you think I can take care of myself?” Astrid’s voice was thunderous.

Hiccup’s was as a gentle wave, as opposed to Astrid’s thunder. “Astrid. Please.” It sounded genuine too. Snotlout wondered if he should consult Hiccup about how to woo girls. He quickly abandoned the idea; Hiccup had been horrible at it when he was a teen. Of course, Snotlout had expected Astrid had always had feelings for that scrawny boy, except that she’d been afraid of ridicule, or the fact that Hiccup wasn’t good at anything Viking-ly.

“Oh alright,” Astrid sighed, defeated.

“Thank you,” Hiccup sighed as well.

He heard their footsteps mingle into the night, and stopped his eavesdropping, returning to the place he called home, and put himself right into bed, shutting off all thoughts and disturbances. He could think about his situation with Ruffnut tomorrow. His eyes closed as he dozed off into a peaceful slumber.

Well, mostly peaceful.

HiccupxAstrid123

10 Jul 2014, 00:20

Great story when are you putting up the next chapter. I just can't stop reading it. When are Hiccup and Astrid going to get married? But love it over all.

7 Race Paint

 

“Hey Astrid. You wanna come with us to relax before the game? Me and Ruffnut are going to play ‘Hide Snotlout’s Helmet’ again.”

Astrid huffed and crossed her arms, the small puff of air escaping her lips and making a tinny whistling noise. She wasn’t interested. “No thanks.”

She had a rough night yesterday, tossing and turning in the covers, staying away from the auburn as possible. Not that she was uncomfortable, it was because of her rambling thoughts swirling in her head and constantly nagging at her conscious when all her mind wanted to do was to fall asleep. She was annoyed. And everyone knew what she was like when she didn’t get enough sleep.

“Alright then. I’ll ask Hiccup.” Hiccup. She gritted her teeth. Why was everything about him? Why couldn’t she stop hearing his name everywhere? Not to mention his voice; she almost swore he was there behind her when she was feeding Stormfly a leg of chicken this morning for breakfast; “Don’t feed her too much, she’ll be overweight in a few weeks,” the voice in her head had said. She’d be lucky if she hadn’t thrown a fit by evening.

Tuffnut then took a long look at her, and she could feel the heat creeping up her face. She bit down on the insides of her cheeks, and the heat subsided. Tuffnut wasn’t going to suspect anything; he was a knucklehead, if she had to say so herself. He wouldn’t suspect that she had spent the night seething with unnecessary frustration at a certain boy, and had almost fallen off the bed. Astrid brushed her slightly tousled hair at the thought.

“Are you okay? You look tired,” Tuffnut commented.

“Of course I’m tired,” she quipped, her brain going on overdrive, thinking of a suitable white lie to tell him. It was unusual for Tuffnut to stick around and ask her of her well-being, anyways. “I just had umm...a nightmare. You know, after seeing that body and stuff…” She made a face of disgust, hoping that he would buy it.

He did. Which was also predictable. “Oh yeah, wasn’t that amazing?”

“No kidding, right?” Astrid scoffed to herself, but kept on playing along. “So, uh, why don’t you go and find Hiccup,” she forced out, “and I’ll catch up with you later.”

The reason she woke up all cranky was entirely Hiccup’s fault. He was in one of his overprotective phases again, and she hoped it wouldn’t last any longer; she couldn’t tolerate it anymore. She’d endured nearly a week of this nonsense already. So what was the big deal about a ‘rampant, murderous dragon?’ Frankly, she remembered it was herself that had protected him from almost getting killed five years ago by Stormfly during one of their lessons. She could deal with a Monstrous Nightmare, she bet.

“Maybe.There’s something else I need to tell you about, actually..” Tuffnut trailed off. What was wrong with him today? Couldn’t he see that she was busy fuming here? He was being quite odd, actually.

She nodded stiffly.

“It’s hard. It’s Ruffnut, well not really Ruffnut, but, hey why don’t you see for yourself?” Tuffnut clenched his fist around a lock of hair, and Astrid could see that something was disturbing him, no wonder he was acting off today. “I’m just feeling- what’s the word?- frustrated, yeah, like not being able to wreck things up.”

Astrid was silent for a moment. Tuff wanted her to help? The day was getting increasingly more bizarre by the second. “I’m frustrated, too,” she confessed.

“With what? There’s nothing to be frustrated about! You’ve got Dragon Racing!”

“Pfft,” she pursed her lips. “I’d rather not talk about it. Come on, you’ve got that Ruffnut problem to discuss about, right?”

“Yep,” Tuff said, before taking off towards the watchtower. Astrid sighed, running after him in pursuit.

The watchtower was in essence, not really a watchtower, but what Astrid liked to refer to as just a plain old wooden platform. The gang had meetings held there, often debating on little things like if Dragon Races need a new set of rules, how fire prevention should be improved, and other problems that happened to face them. Hiccup called it “Dragon Landing” just for the purpose of making the worn-out tower seem like an interesting attraction, but it remained what it was even with the glorified namesake: a simple platform rising out of land and sea.

It was there that Astrid approached four sixths of the gang, not including herself, of course. She couldn’t hear clearly to what the muffled voices were saying, but she saw the problem as soon as she reached the top of the flight of stairs.

“So, babe, you wanna head on over to the Meade Hall, maybe get a mug or two?” Snotlout winked, flipping his hair with flair and elegance.

“Nah, Ruffnut would rather spend time with me. Wouldn’t you?” Fishlegs smiled a small smile; then his mouth curled into a frown when Snotlout reached over and put his arm around Ruffnut’s waist.

“Blech,” Ruffnut stuck out her tongue at them and scooted over, avoiding the young men vying for her attention and escaping Snotlout’s arm.

They yammered on. Tuffnut gave her a look. “See what I mean? I can’t go anywhere without her. And now I can’t go anywhere without these trollheads following her every step of the way.”

Astrid stifled a laugh. “Trollheads?”

“Well me and Ruffnut are muttonheads. I had to come up with a better name for those two numbskulls. Or a worse one, I guess.”

Astrid seated herself beside Ruffnut, flattening her skirt so that she was comfortable and making sure her hood would not receive any wood splinters by balancing it over the edge of the wooden bench’s backing. Maybe she could talk some sense into her. “So, Ruff, I heard you have some, um, problems here,” she whispered in her friend’s ear.

Ruff’s face crinkled in disgust, and she waved at Astrid to scoot over a little more. “You have no idea,” she replied, her voice coming out more nasal than usual. She coughed. “These jerks have been surrounding me for gods know how long. I’m afraid they’re going to start to barge into my house with their arms full of gifts.”

“Gifts, huh. And what makes you think that?"

However Ruffnut did not want to get there in their conversation.“Tell me. Has Hiccup ever given you any gifts?”

It was as if a shadow had cascaded down over Astrid’s face, and she frowned, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t want to talk about him right now,” she said eventually, in response to Ruffnut’s wait.

Ruffnut shrugged. “Why not?”

“It’s complicated. And yes, I think he has, once or twice before.” She thought about it. “I think the hood,” she craned her neck and lifted up the appendage, “was his idea. Said I might need it when winter comes around, so I could be warm. Also,” she continued, as more memories came back to her, “he gave me a small pendant two Snoggletogs ago. It was in the shape of the Berkian crest, the symbol that also graces Hiccup’s flight suit and Toothless’ tailfin. He said,” she pronounced each word slowly as she struggled to remember his exact words, “that he made it with the leftover metal from his updated prosthetic, as well as the new metal rod he'd installed on Toothless' fin. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but nevertheless I keep it in a special compartment back at home, to keep it safe.” It occurred to her that even though Hiccup had his short ends and issues, he was still a pretty good boyfriend. Although they never called each other by the terms “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” yet. The most intimate word she had ever called him was ‘babe’, and that was only once, when they had gone to watch the sunset over the sea, at the cliff overlooking the docks.

“Cool,” Ruffnut commented, pulling Astrid’s musings back on the topic at hand. “But that doesn’t interest me enough.” She stole a glance at the laughing forms of Snotlout and Fishlegs, who had somehow gotten back to good terms. “I think they’re pretending,” she whispered from a corner of her mouth.

“Pretending what?”

“Pretending that I’m not here. Then when I get up, they’re going to start chasing me again.”

“So, stalling time, huh?" Then her words finally registered. "They chase you? On what? Their dragons?”

“No,” Ruffnut shook her head, “not real chasing. They’re just like those stupid Terrible Terrors that like to follow you and ask for food. I have no idea why Gothi likes them so much.”

“At least they provide some use. They send Airmail.”

“Are you done with your girl talk?” Tuffnut cut in, looking bored. “This is lame. Should we start the game now?”

Ruffnut snuck another surreptitious glance at the boys, then carefully stood up. The bench gave out a small creak, and Ruffnut froze. Relieved that the boys were still in the midst of their own separate conversation, she tiptoed silently towards Snotlout, extending her hand and quickly nabbing the helmet off his head in a rapid swipe. She chuckled manically, running away and down the stairs, with Tuffnut not far behind her.

Snotlout had just noticed this, and was patting his head with confusion. “Hey, wait up!” He shot up and chased after the cackling twins, who had disappeared miraculously into the village. Fishlegs emitted a “huh?” before also following Snotlout’s lead, leaving her alone on the bench.

Astrid got up reluctantly, her hood bouncing up and down as she headed down. There was Dragon Races to worry about; she didn't want to participate in any games besides that. She rubbed her tired eyes and decided to seek out for her dragon back home. Then she changed her mind and reversed the order. When she got to her house, she would first wash her face and comb her hair to detangle it. Perhaps that would help with the sudden bout of drowsiness that had just washed over her.

She yawned when she reached her destination. All she wanted was to plop down on her comfy bed and sleep for a few hours more. But she couldn’t, and that made her temper go up just a bit.

Astrid plucked out the tie in her braid, leaving it on a table beside her bed. She sat on the bed and took a comb, running the teeth into her unwrapped braid, dragging it down with some effort when she reached a knot. She plaited the strands of hair once more, tying it together for finish. Her boots skidded on the floor as she wearily walked towards the bathroom, heaving a small bucket before her and plunging her hands into the cold water. She splashed the water over her face, letting out a yelp as the icy coldness touched her skin. Hopefully this would keep her awake and ready to race. Astrid wiped her face off with a cloth, pushed the bucket back to its spot, accidentally sloshing some water onto the floor. She sighed, about to clean the glistening puddle up, then stopped. It’ll dry over time; she was going to be late if she didn’t leave at this moment. Besides, it wasn't that important anyways.

Stormfly's distinctive crown greeted her happily. "Hey girl, you ready for some racing?" Stormfly squawked indignantly and rubbed her head against Astrid's coat.

The pair set off to the stadium. The stadium was a newly built one, and was not the typical enclosed one, but rather split into pieces that formed a sort of semi-circle. In the races, all you had to do is to stay within the specific boundaries, other than that, there was nowhere you couldn’t go. As they were walking, Astrid suddenly realized a possibility, and it made her feel anxious, and her hands to turn clammy.

"Astrid," Hiccup's voice rang in her ears. Only this time, she wasn't imagining it.

"Hello," she returned, politely but weakly. It was a scarce event to see him here, because usually he was busy with his exploration or something in the forge. But somehow he made it here today.

"So I'm guessing you're only going to apply paint today," she said. Astrid was by far already accustomed to this.

Hiccup smiled shyly. "Yep, you got me again, I'm really sorry."

"Don't be." They headed towards the catapult, where the black sheep was shot from, and Hiccup's choice of painting area today. Usually since Hiccup was not present, Gobber or another member of the village who wasn't watching in the stands would be the one with the job of applying race paint. But here he was. Just her cup of luck.

Hiccup started sorting the buckets of paint by colour. Astrid stood there as a bystander, watching. She spotted the bucket of red paint, which was Hiccup's colour of choice, and dipped her finger in it. "Okay," Hiccup muttered, biting his lip, "blue and orange!" He lifted up two different shades of blue. "Sky Blue or Cerulean?"

Something else that wasn't particularly important. "Sky."

He put both down again, one edging closer to his foot, and heaved two other buckets of orange. "Burnt Apricot or Sunset Orange?"

"Did Fishlegs name these, by any chance?"

"Mhmm. Now pick one, or else I'd have to pick one for you."

"Sunset, please."

“I’ll paint Stormfly first, if you don’t mind.”

“‘Course not.” It probably was a better choice. Hiccup grabbed a yakhair brush and emerged it into the paint, scraping excess off the bucket edge. He dragged the brush along Stormfly’s wing, a straight line. He then repeated this with the other wing, and then the other colour, orange.

“Your turn,” he said when he was done. “Same hues?”

“Yep.”

"Okay. Now hold still." The wetness of the paint lingered long after application; so did the feel of his fingers against her face. Gingerly, he dabbled on the paint, drawing a butterfly pattern with the two paints on her palette. "There you go," he said, leaning back to examine his handiwork.

"Thanks. C'mon, Stormfly. We have a race to win." She turned back at the last second, smearing the bright red paint off her finger and onto his cheek. "You know, red actually suits you pretty well," she remarked, before climbing onto her dragon and trotting off.

The cheers of the crowd drowned her; there were so many people there present today. Many were clapping enthusiastically, and some were hollering and whistling. When Astrid emerged from the sidelines, the crowd broke out into chants of her name, applauding rhythmically to a beat. She waved at her fans before taking her place beside Fishlegs at the starting line there up on the platform.

"Fellow Berkians." Stoick began his compulsory speech. The audience quieted down. "Friends, family. I am honored to welcome you all to the 27th Dragon Races!"

The crowd burst into a cacophony of clapping.

"Now to introduce the players today. For the newcomers," he added. "First, we have Snotlout and his Monstrous Nightmare, Hookfang!" Snotlout took a step forward, waving and smoothing his hair.

"Up next, we have Fishlegs and his Gronckle, Meatlug!" Fishlegs exchanged a slight nod of the head, followed by another pat for his dragon's head.

"Please welcome Astrid and her Deadly Nadder, Stormfly!"

"This is our cue, Stormfly." The audience watched as the Nadder sent three precise spines flying over their heads, the sharp needles embedding in the grasses on the other side. The chant started again. "Astrid! Astrid!"

"And last but not least, twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and their dragons Barf and Belch!" The twins headbutted each other, slamming their helmets together and yelling a war cry. Astrid saw the disappointment on Stoick's face as he realized his son wasn't there.

"Riders, get in position," the chief said gruffly. The teens hopped on their dragons. "On your mark."

Her eyes narrowed. The white sheep was about to be launched shortly. Her focus was entirely on the sheep's flank.

"Get set."

A twirl to the left, plus a zigzag to avoid the deliberate right turn the twins always performed. Then a fourty-five degree angle flight, which, if Stormfly traveled fast enough, would make her parallel to Snotlout's normal trajectory, and just maybe she'd score the first point.

She ignored the reminder that Hiccup had been the one to teach her these things.

"And go!" The horn was blown, shattering her thoughts, and the sheep sprung from the push of a lever; it sailed before her with a surprised air. Astrid felt her stomach lurch as Stormfly took a flying leap off the platform, her wings catching the air and flapping. "Like we practiced, Stormfly," her voice shook with turbulence. She gritted her teeth together and leaned towards the left. Stormfly took the pose as a signal, and spun leftwards, arcing under the Zippleback barging into them and zipping back up.

"Hey!" Tuffnut shouted.

"That wasn't fair!" Ruffnut echoed.

Astrid smirked. In her mind, though, she was battling something, and she wasn't winning. She blinked and shook her head. It was simply not the time to fall asleep.

The Nadder halted, leaving her winded and out of breath, then sped up at a sharp angle upwards, passing Snotlout's agitated face and leaving him to gripe at his own misfortune. As they dove down Astrid's eyes were trained onto the blur of white below as the sheep fell. Hands prepared, she snatched the sheep out of its misery and dropped it in her labeled box and into the net.

"And Astrid nabs first point!" Stoick shouted from his spectator area. She smiled widely, then took Stormfly on a loop around the outside, clapping the hands of many eager fans before resuming the game as second sheep was catapulted over their heads.

A few rounds passed, and she felt disappointment ring anew in her mind as her point count fell low. For what she knew, this was all because of her nodding off coincidentally whenever she was about to catch the sheep. Astrid rubbed at her temples and yawned as Snotlout hooted and pumped his fist into the air, having been on a winning streak of three. The only thing that could save her now was if she could rake in enough points by the last round...

Or if she was lucky enough to score the black sheep, who was worth ten points.

Astrid spied a runaway sheep on the ground. These sheep were there for only the most observant of racers, and were worth extra points. Targets painted onto their wool made them easier to snatch. She felt another wave of sleepiness, and struggled to keep awake, not noticing how close they were to the stray sheep. Stormfly was thankfully paying attention though, unlike her, and took off for the stadium with a point in hand. “Thanks, girl,” she yawned after the point had been deposited, before pressing her eyelids hard on each other in an effort to clear her mind of drowsiness.

They swerved around a post, spinning the metal dragon weathervane as her Nadder and the rest of the gang behind her simultaneously flew around and out of the stadium. Snotlout had since snagged another sheep and was carrying it underneath his arms.

"Here babe, you can have my sheep," he said while throwing it to Ruffnut. "By the way, I like your hairstyle today," he winked.

"It's the same every day," Tuffnut deadpanned. "C'mon, Barf, let's go," Ruffnut commanded, catching the sheep expertly and stuffing the poor thing into Tuffnut's arm. "There's nothing to see here anyways."

If Astrid was betting it, she could’ve sworn that Snotlout was crestfallen. That was new. Over the years of her constant refusing him, he'd never paid any mind to what she yelled at him. But now he was actually sad at Ruffnut's refusal.

Perhaps he had matured.

"The twins break Snotlout's once impermeable record with a gain of one point!"

The twins whooped. Astrid took the chance to interfere. "Snotlout, what are you doing?"

"I'm helping my princess. That's all." He stared after her braids whipping in the wind. "But it appears," he forced out through gnashed teeth, "I've got competition."

“Good job,” Fishlegs called out to Meatlug, then headed towards Ruffnut. “Here you go..” From her point of view she could still see Ruff’s face, and it wasn’t amused.

Another round passed as the twins dunked another point in. Astrid took Stormfly on a different path, caressing the boundaries of the race, wingtips still within the vicinity. Her dragon’s shadow passed over houses as they went. By staying out of the main focus of the other teams, maybe she could make a steal.

And she was right again when she performed an excellent maneuver under Meatlug and grabbed the sheep she was carrying, depositing it and thus scoring a point. Finally.

“Last lap,” Gobber shouted over the din. The horn blasted as he descended down the stairs and placed his hand on the lever. “Have a nice flight!” he grinned like a child, giving the black sheep a wink and pushing the lever down. The sheep gave a bleat of surprise and fright as it was projected upwards into the clouds.

“Stormfly, get ready! We can still win this! Up, up!” At a jawdropping seventy degrees they went, claws extended fully for one purpose only: to grab the ten pointer before anyone else reached it. Simply her sleight of logic.

Her plans failed when a shadow blocked her way. Meatlug had snatched the sheep before she could even register the familiar bumped hide. “Shoot,” she sighed, eyes slitting at the sight of her prize being stolen. Revenge, huh.

“Yeah, you go girl!” Fishlegs twisted and ordered Meatlug to drop the black sheep into Ruffnut’s arms. “This is for you, darling,” he said, giving a charming smile.

“Aw yes!” Ruffnut pumped her fist. “Ten points! Let’s go, Tuff!”

“Haha! Suit yourself, loser!” Tuffnut yelled at Snotlout. “We’re going to win this thing, and no man can stop us now!”

His brutal comment directed towards ‘Lout sparked her hope. No man, maybe, but maybe a woman could. She let herself have the luxury of a sly smile before sending Stormfly to the chase after the two-headed dragon.

“Stormfly, stay steady. Let’s see if we can do this thing.” This little trick was self-taught, and was still fairly new to the pair, but she knew that they could manage to pull it off. She lifted up one leg, then two, squatting on the back of the Nadder. Slowly she stood up, shakily but surely, and carefully placed one foot in front of the other. Astrid then took a leap of faith, landing on the Zippleback like a professional. Meanwhile the twins were fighting over the black sheep. This was her only chance, and would determine the outcome of the entire race.

“Now,” she thought, and pushed the sheep out of the twin’s grip, catching it just in time. Her momentum led her straight back onto her dragon. Relieved, she took a glance at the twins’ faces. “Haha!” she exclaimed. Take that.

Her smile disappeared as a large object hurtled towards her. Stormfly took a quick duck and just missed the hammer that Snotlout was carrying. There was a shout from behind, unmistakenly Fishlegs, and a response from the audience. Thankfully she had not got hurt, but there were consequences, as always, as she felt herself gyrating out of control.

“Whoa, steady yourself!” she cried as she fell. The net wasn’t far away from their current position. “Lean to the left!” she commandeered. “Right! There now!” And the Deadly Nadder curved in a circular motion, a loop-de-loop and upside down and-

“And Astrid takes the game!” Stoick bellowed from the sidelines. Her heart was beating nonstop, but she was glad the game was over. Astrid took a trip once more around the stadium, awaiting the fans eagerly as they all stood up and gave her a standing ovation.

“Way to go!”someone yelled.

“You’re amazing!”

“Well done!”

“Thank you all!” she shouted, as she finished her course around the benches. As much as she loved the attention, she knew what she wanted right now. She just wanted to escape all this noise and madness. Astrid was dead tired, and the want, the need, was worming its way into her priorities.

And she knew exactly where she could accomplish her task.

At home.

Synopsis

 

A dead Viking...a mysterious man...a kidnapping...a transformation...and a battle brewing underneath the surface, ready to emerge out of the shadows...

Hiccup discovers that he has been chosen as a sylverra prekaa, or forest guardian, a group of dragons and Vikings who protected lifeforms from danger. However, as Hiccup delves into the mysteries of Berk and of his capturer, he is thrown into a conspiracy that aged long before his time...and one that will change the fates of everyone in Berk forever.

Sneak Peek: CH8: Thunder and Rain

 

"I'm wholly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much," she snapped.

"I know, but-"

Her eyes were steely. "But what?"

"Listen, I- I just- Astrid, Astrid," he stuttered, fingers outstretched and feet slowly backing away. A standard Hiccup apologetic gesture. "Astrid," he sighed, "I'm not accusing you of anything."

"Really?" She bit back a laugh. "Then what's the reason?" Her eyes squinted as a revelation dawned on her. "It's not because I'm a girl, is it?

If Astrid had thought it through at the time, she would've dismissed the idea and laughed it off. But her momentum kept her from a clear mind.

"No, no, of course not!" Hiccup looked shocked. "Why would I ever do that?"

"I don't know," Astrid flipped her axe expertly a full circle, "why don't you tell me?"

"Astrid, please. Right now, because of our - " Hiccup took the liberty for a rare blush, "- relationship status, especially because of it, we need to work as a team."

"And?" she prodded on.

"And because we're technically boyfriend and girlfriend, we need to protect each other."

"Mhmm. Anything else you have to say?" Even as she felt the heat diminishing, a part of her still wasn't quite satisfied with his response.

He was sweating, and he dragged his hand over his face like he just came out of sleep, absolutely bedraggled and half-awake. Must have had a rough night, too. "I'm just- I don't know how to say this - Gods, I'm stumbling again, " he said, biting his lip. "I just have this, this feeling that something terrible is going to happen to you if I'm not close to you."

The fire was rekindled. "So this is the only reason I've been pulled to your house every night? Because of your gut feeling?"

"Yes, but-"

"This has gone too far."

"Can I have a chance to talk?" Was he pleading now?

Her throat was becoming sore after all that yelling. "I thought you knew better."

Hiccup's resolve seemed to melt away at that moment, making Astrid realize that maybe she had gone too far as well. "Know better? What is this, a " criticize Hiccup" day? Let me ask you, does anyone here know what they're doing? Is anyone the least bit sane?" He pointed at the twins currently playing "Leap Sheep", then at Bucket, who was complaining about his gradually tightening bucket over his head. " The only one keeping all these people in line is my father. It's not that easy doing the right thing every time."

Astrid's expression soured. "That's not what I meant- "

It was her turn to get cut off. "Sure. Of course. You always know what to do, so this doesn't apply to you in any way."

"That's not true!"

"I try to help you, to keep you safe, to show that I care, but I get this as a thank you." He started to leave. "Thanks a lot, Astrid."

"This is not called help. Just because you think I'm going to be in potential danger doesn't mean anything. I don't need help unless I ask for it. And I'm pretty sure I didn't." She was still yelling even as he climbed onto the saddle and launched off to the skies.