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The Pale Rider (8) A Chance Meeting

The Isle of Berk is cursed. Like, extremely cursed. It has been for generations. The extent of the curse has been forgotten over time, but no descendants of the original village are able to leave the island, lest they suffer a gruesome fate. Three years ago, the Blacksmith invited the Pale Rider to town. He’s a creature that’s haunted the forest and childhood campfire stories for centuries. Now, he arrives every day at noon. One day, Astrid Hofferson decides to be brave and talk to him. He’s actually really nice…for an eldritch abomination. A Beauty and the Beast AU.

Ao3

Astrid’s mornings were earlier than most. When you worked in a trade where things needed to be fresh, rising before the sun was required.

Astrid did it with no complaints.

The rooster crowed, and she was up like a shot. Even when she had been injured, she never allowed herself to sleep in.

Early morning was the best time to do chores she was too tired to do after a long day of work. She’d light the fires and prepare the soup for meals. She’d mop the floor and do the laundry, and hang it up to dry when the sun came up.

As the light of dawn crested over the hills, she put on her boots and grabbed her basket. It was the perfect time to gather wildflowers. Most would be just opening, and the dew kept them fresh.

Outside, the town was quiet. The baker was whistling in his kitchen, and a single guard patrolled the streets.

She traveled her familiar path, leading through the woods on the outside of town. There were a few fields on the island that hosted flowers, but Astrid had her favorite. It was a little more work to get to it, but that’s what made it worth it.

She took the path through the woods, then over the fallen log that spanned a ravine. Then, a short climb up a cliff face.

The morning glories were blooming in vibrant blues, so bright it was hard to look at. The Bellflowers came in their delicate blues, while Angelica bloomed in lacy dainty white. It was a feast for the eyes. Dapples of yellows and reds against shades of green.

She waded through the dewy plants, sniping the blooms as she went. She worked leisurely, picking the best and leaving those that needed a little more time.

All that was forgotten, however, as she heard a huff of a horse from the treeline.

She whipped her head up to look, spying the shadow that hid in the morning shade of the trees.

“Rider?” She asked, her heart pounding.

Of course, the fire from his eyes gave him away, and he stepped into the light. “I figured if I came here, I’d see you eventually. Guess I wasn’t coming early enough.”

Her basket was forgotten as she sprinted, almost tripping, to him. She threw her arms around him and hugged him as tight as she could.

His cloak felt like the fog of an early morning, the smell like wet stone. Her cheek pressed against his chest, and she felt a warmth like nothing else she’d experienced. Not an intense heat like the forge, but skin that had been warmed by the fire. This, of course, was from the flame just under his skin.

“I was so worried,” she confessed. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

After a beat, he returned her embrace, circling his long arms around her. “Did you not receive my letter? I promised we would meet again.”

“Of course, I shouldn’t have doubted you.” Reluctantly, she pulled away, but stayed close. “How are you?”

“As well as I can be.” He raised his hand to hover near her, now only slightly, bruised face. “And how are you?”

She leaned into his touch, his hands no longer feeling like ice to her, but like cool water on a hot summer day. “It’s getting better. Gobber built me a new stall, and business is starting to pick back up.”

“What happened to your old stall?” He asked, a touch of anger in his voice.

She glanced downward, now realizing she had never told him. “Well…Dagur burnt it down.”

There was a grunt from behind the mask, clear frustration. “And you were leasing this from Oswald? You will need to pay him back?”

Astrid sighed, knowing where this conversation was going. “Maybe. I’m hoping that the debt will be canceled because it was Dagur who did it.”

“How much?” He held his hand out for her.

“Rider…”

“Please, put aside your stubborn viking pride,” he snapped, much conviction in his voice. “I simply can’t have you in debt to these people. What is mine is yours. How much?”

She sighed again, but in defeat. “I can’t begin to imagine. 10 gold at least.”

“Both hands,” he instructed.

She held both hands up in a bowl shape, and allowed the coins to fall into them. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“You didn’t reach into your pocket or anything. You never do. Just wave your hand and the coins appear and disappear.”

“Magic,” he offered as an explanation.

“Are you saying you’re a magic user?”

“Yes and no,” he gestured with a tottering hand. “I don’t know how I do it, but it’s magical. And it's not just with coins either.” He flipped his hand over and an apple appeared in his palm.

“Wow!”

Toothless snatched the apple, and ate it in a single bite.

Astrid giggled, before she started back to where she had left her basket. “I’ll have to come up with a way to pay you back.”

“No—”

“Not with money,” she explained. “But I simply wish to express my gratitude. I don’t want our relationship to depend on you giving me money. It is a blessing, but I never want to take advantage of you.”

“Your company is all I desire.”

“Then we’ll make this our new routine.”

“That would make me happy.”

She smiled at him, and hoped by the flicker in his eyes, he was returning it.

“How are the others?” He asked. “Snotlout has begun a…delivery service? Was he not a guard?”

“Oh…” she sighed again. “There have been some changes since the…fight with Dagur. After you left, Dagur demanded everyone leave me on the street. Snotlout ignored him and took me home, with some well placed words. In turn, Dagur had him fired from guard duty. He says he’s enjoying the delivery job though.”

“I’m sad that his job was lost because of me, but I’m happy he has found a new job he enjoys.”

Astrid was going to protest that Snotlout had lost the job because of her but figured it would become a circular argument. “Gobber’s doing fine, as well as Fishlegs and the twins. They had a lull in business, but it didn’t last long.”

“And Heather?”

Hesitating, she said, “I haven’t seen her since that day, and the cafe is permanently closed.”

She watched his Adam’s apple bob down his throat. “He didn’t kill her, did he?”

“I really don’t think so,” she assured. “Dagur loves her, for all his faults. I think he got her grounded or something. I’ll let you know the moment she’s out and about again.”

He placed a hand on his chest and let out a relieved sigh. “And your mother?”

Her mouth went dry. She really hadn’t wanted to tell him about her.

“Please do not lie to me,” he added, seeing that she was locking up.

Astrid gnawed on her lip. “She’s not doing well.”

The Rider seemed to anticipate this as he nodded slowly.

“She got really attached to you, you know? She was doing really well. She was actually able to get out of bed! But now…she’s very weak.”

“And there’s nothing I can do to help?”

“Right now, no. But that doesn’t mean there won’t ever be.”

He twirled his hand and a small knife appeared. He crouched and cut a flower, leaving a long stem like she had been doing. “I’ve always felt rather helpless in these situations,” he confessed. “Over the generations, I’ve done my damndest to keep this island safe from the outside world. But to help the village when it’s tearing itself apart because of the curse? I can’t do anything. It’s awful.”

“Could you…elaborate? Have you befriended townsfolk before?”

“No,” he said sadly. “No, the village has always hated me and resented me. But the curse on the blood of the island has led to a lot of fighting. People have thought that killing all the original descendants would end the curse.”

Astrid gasped.

“They never go through with it, obviously, but blood has been spilt over time.” He picked another flower and handed it to her. “Watching people die because I committed a sin hundreds of years ago is awful. The person who cursed me…he was very particular in making it hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered, not knowing what else to say.

“Your sympathy is appreciated, Astrid. I don’t…” He paused, tilting his head slightly. She expected the automatic response of ‘I don’t deserve it’ but instead, he surprised her. “It’s nice to have it after all this time.”

It was a big step. A sign of acceptance, a sign of healing. Even after what Dagur had done, Rider was still learning to love himself despite everything.

“How old are you?” She asked, somewhat suddenly, surprising herself as well.

“What? I told you, over 300.”

“No, before that. If you’re over 300 years old, that must mean you’re immortal now, right?”

He nodded. “Forced to live forever like this.”

“Then, how old were you when you were cursed? You don’t age anymore, do you?”

“I suppose you have a point. I think…I was around 19 years of age.”

Astrid’s heart did that little flip. “You were so young. A little older than I am…”

“And capable of grave mistakes.”

“How is that fair?!” She screamed. “None of this is fair! It’s cruel and unusual and…you couldn’t have deserved this. You’re so kind and gentle. I can’t believe you’d murder someone like Gobber said. There’s more to this story.”

He nodded. “There is more. I wasn’t always like this.” He picked a flower, and studied it. “I’ve adapted to the curse over time. When Gobber invited me into town, it was…another step.”

“He said you didn’t speak much.”

“Couldn’t remember how,” he confessed. “It took my humanity, Astrid. The person I was before…it was all taken. I was left a hollow shell, a few scant memories, a few boundaries I wouldn’t cross. But I did…some horrible things.”

“What kind of things?”

He wrung his hands, hesitating. “Berk has come under attack over the years, and I swore that I would protect it, even if I was hated. Toothless and I did just that, defending the village, but…”

“That sounds like a good thing.”

“I went too far. The bay is a graveyard. More bodies lay there than on the island. And it’s my fault.”

She scoffed. “You’re blaming yourself for defending against raiders? We’re vikings! We…we probably slaughtered people when we conquered this island, right?”

The flare of fire from his eyes was unexpected, but she couldn’t begin to know what it meant. “We…came to conquer…”

“Are you remembering something?”

“Yes…yes, we came here. My family, our tribe!” He reached out and took her hands, trembling. There was excitement in his voice. “We fled our home island up north because of the dragons. There was a queen and I fought her and—”

He went still.

“You fought a dragon?” She asked, urging him on.

The flames in his eyes extinguished with two puffs of steam. Black lines drew down his face, thick and wet.

“I lost,” he breathed.

Unsure and hesitant, Astrid reached up her hand and touched his cheek.

Instantly, he keeled over, screaming in pain. One hand went to his chest, as the other went to his bad leg. His pain was palpable, and it brought pain to Astrid as well.

“Rider! Rider, what’s wrong!? What’s going on?!”

He screamed louder, sobbing as he caught his breath.

Toothless trotted over and nuzzled his head against his chest so he wouldn’t fall over.

Astrid ghosted her hands over his arms and shoulders, utterly at a loss of what to do.

He gasped out a sob, and then collapsed, passing into unconsciousness.

Toothless lowered him to the field, and Astrid helped him lay down.

He was still for a long time, no fire in those dark sockets. Even the fire in his chest seemed dim. She waited, kneeling at his side for long, tense minutes.

Then, two little flames flickered under his mask, and he breathed. “What…?”

“Rider?”

“Astrid? My friend…why are you here?”

“What do you mean? We were just talking, and you collapsed. Are you alright?”

“We were…that’s right.” He swallowed, and slowly began to get to his feet. “I’ll be fine,” he assured. “A little weakness, but it will pass.”

“What happened?”

“I have these episodes where I black out on occasion. I’m unsure why. Let’s see…ah, you were asking me about my age, right?”

She frowned. “We were past that. You told me you were remembering something. You fought a dragon!”

He shook his head. “I would never fight a dragon. Toothless has been my constant companion for many years.”

Astrid grit her teeth. “Well, now you’re confusing me! You said you and your family came here because you were fleeing dragons. There was a queen that you fought and lost against!”

He gasped. “You—you’re right! The queen! She was in the volcano and—” again, he was cut off by some terrible pain. He cried out, yelling violently, before collapsing once again.

She caught him under the arm, but he still mostly hit the ground.

A theory tumbled around in her mind, a grim sign.

After another few moments, he grunted and pushed to kneel. “Where…?”

“I’m here, Rider,” she said softly.

“Astrid? How did I…? Oh, I remember. I’m sorry, I have these black outs on occasion, but I have no idea what—”

“You’re not allowed to remember.”

“Excuse me?”

Astrid sighed. “You’ve blacked out twice. You recalled something from your past, and blacked out, forgetting all about it. When I told you what you had said…you blacked out again. That’s what’s happening.”

“Oh.” He sounded so profoundly sad, it made her heart ache.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed. She gripped his cloak. “I want you to know, I want to help you. I want to learn what I can and lift this curse from you. You’ve become my best friend, and you deserve to be free from this.”

He lifted a finger to her cheek, touching her skin ever so gently. “You have the spirit of a fighter, and the heart of a lion. If anyone were to break my curse, it would be you.”

She began to smile, hope filling her chest.

“But—” he warned. “The price of freedom is simply too steep. It’s a debt I could never allow anyone to take. I couldn’t live with myself.”

“So…still punished, even after the curse is lifted?”

“Exactly.”

“And…it’s still too steep with the freedom of the village on the line?”

He grunted, crossing his arms. “In truth, I don’t know if the curse can be completely lifted. A great sacrifice can ease my personal punishment, but as for the town? I don’t know.”

She shook her head. “It sucks. It’s just not fair.”

“It’s not,” he agreed. “But knowing that you care that much about me eases the burden.”

Astrid noticed then where the sun was in the sky. She’d have to get back or else they would wonder where she was.

He noticed. “You have to go, don’t you?”

“Yes, but…we can meet again tomorrow, right?”

“Gladly.”

She smiled widely. “Then, until tomorrow. And I’m going to do what I can to make sure you can come back into the village.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but please don’t force anything. I don’t want you getting punished on my behalf.”

She flexed her arm. “You said so yourself, the spirit of a fighter, heart of a lion! I’m going to get you back!”

He hummed, knowing he couldn’t do anything to stop her. So instead, he patted her head. “Very well, my friend. Just be safe.”

—-

In the absence of access to the village, this became their new normal. The rooster crowed, and Astrid sped wildly through all of her chores to be able to rush out the door the moment the sun rose.

Perhaps it was a little selfish not to tell the others about their meetings. Any one of them would have tagged along to see the Rider.

But that flower field felt so sacred to her. Untouched by anyone else from the village.

It was theirs.

Maybe she would have felt worse if she hadn’t known the others were at least in contact with the Rider. Snotlout still made his trips up the mountain, and once everyone else found out about it, they all began sending letters.

“��My dear friend Ruffnut,’ he says. He’s so elegant! ‘I’m thrilled to hear about your successful prank on the baker. After you told me about the slight he caused, I couldn’t help but feel offended on your behalf. To hear that you have successfully stolen all of his underwear and hung them in the forest delights me. Hopefully in the future, he will think twice about skimping out on your cream cheese. Personally, I would have stolen all of his cream cheese supply and smeared it on his windows, but then again, I am not a master of pranks such as you and your brother.’” Ruffnut read the letter aloud. “Ugh, but that’s such a good idea! Not a master of pranks, my butt! That’s genius!”

“Why is the Rider indulging her?” Fishlegs asked.

“Probably just happy to write to someone,” Astrid responded.

They were having lunch at the forge and Snotlout had brought them all letters from the Rider. They were taking turns sharing them.

“Mine is probably going to be boring for you guys. ‘My dear friend Fishlegs. You will never believe what I found in the library. In your previous letter, you told me of a book you were reading, ‘The Sea of Magicks’. It sounded very intriguing and something I would like. Little did I know, I have a copy here! It is of course an older edition, so if any changes have been made, I wouldn’t know. Golfson’s descriptions of the fish in the first chapter were so vivid, it was like I could imagine them floating in front of me. I haven’t gotten to the part about the merfolk yet, but I’m excited for it. By my next letter, I should have gotten to it, if not finished the book entirely. Reading has become one of my favorite pastimes in the last few years’.”

“Yawn,” Snotlout said.

Astrid shushed him, seeing there was still more to the letter.

“‘I must confess, I did not do a lot of reading before I came to the village. Those days were filled with darkness, and reading and imagination were forgotten to me. But now, books offer a reprieve in this quiet place. They offer comfort when I cannot be with you all. I am delighted to share this hobby with you now. Best regards, The Pale Rider.’”

“Whoa, that got sad real fast,” said Snotlout.

“Yeah, well, you’d probably be pretty sad if you lived in isolation for 300 years.”

Gobber cleared his throat and unfolded his letter. “Alright, it’s my turn, so shut yer traps. ‘My dear friend Gobber. Thank you for asking about my leg. To my surprise, the wound is healing nicely’.”

“What wound?” Asked Fishlegs.

Gobber ignored him. “‘The prosthetic walks like a dream. I have a garden up here at the castle that I have always wanted to walk through, but haven’t done so until now. I’m able to get around my own castle now, even without Toothless. It’s so strange. I’ve lived here for several hundred years, and yet there are places I hadn’t explored because of the pain of walking. There was a large staircase I had always avoided, but I finally climbed it. I finally found out where the music room is! Perhaps I will try my hand at some of the instruments within. Though, I would imagine they are horribly out of tune. Do you play any instruments? Do you know how to tune any of them? You are my go-to handyman afterall. Best regards, The Pale Rider.’ Oh, how nice! You know, I play a mean panflute!”

“Those don’t require tuning, you should suggest that to him!” Said Fishlegs.

“I think I will! Give him some pointers on how to play as well.”

“You gonna read yours, Astrid?” Snotlout asked, noticing she was the only one left.

“Oh, um…not right now.”

“Why not?” Asked Tuff. “I read mine, and he just responded to me complaining about my horrible butt rash. Yours can’t be more embarrassing than that.”

“It’s not that it’s embarrassing, it’s just…personal.”

“To him or to you?”

“Yes?”

“Well now I gotta know!” Exclaimed Ruff. “You can’t just say stuff like that and expect us to leave you alone.” She pointed at the black paper in Astrid’s hands. “Read!”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Fine, but it’s going to be flowery and you’ll hate it.”

“You are the florist,” Tuffnut shrugged. “Of course it’ll be flowery.”

“Not that kind of—you know what? You’ll find out for yourself.” She unfolded the paper and held it up, clearing her throat. “‘My dear Astrid–’”

“Ope! He’s breaking the mold!” Gobber cooed.

She blushed, but read on, “Did you know those wings on Toothless aren’t for show? He can fly, you know. One day, I’d like to take you on a flight. Would you prefer the day, or the night? During the day, when the sun is high in the sky, and the wind is just right, you can feel your heart soar. The leaves of the forest create a swath of green that hides so many mysteries. From the sky, you can see for miles. You can see the islands in the distance that beckon for adventure, but can only be a daydream. The village is so small from up there, Astrid. The buildings are like pebbles on the beach, so small and insignificant. Up there, you can pretend the troubles of the town don’t exist, and they can’t follow you. There’s peace.

“‘At night, when darkness lays like gauze on the sky, the stars twinkle like holes through the fabric. The whole of the landscape is swept into inky blackness, and the unknown can be anything. The village, in its tiny insignificance becomes a cluster of stars. The firelights catch the eye and invite, though I’m no longer allowed to heed the call. Sometimes, if the sky is in a particular mood, it puts on a show. It dances with lights of green, pinks, and teal. Like thick curtains that hang and rustle in the wind.

“‘I want to show it all to you. I long to see the look on your face as you behold the beauty. I desire, most ardently, to share my world with you.

For now, the flowers will have to do.

Your Humble servant, The Pale Rider.’”

“Ohhhh that was totally a love letter, wasn’t it?” Tuffnut asked, bluntly.

Astrid’s face colored further. “It was not!”

—

She hadn’t yet identified this emotion in her that she felt around the Rider. It used to be pity, but nowadays, it felt like hope. Like the flowers in the field, she watched him blossom into a real person, getting personality back from wherever it had been stolen away to.

“Heather’s back,” Astrid announced as she arrived at the field. “She came to the Great Hall last night.”

“I’m glad she’s alright. What happened?”

“She said Dagur exaggerated her affiliation with you and out of fear, Oswald forbade her from leaving the house.”

“What did Dagur say?”

“Apparently, we’re starting a cult.”

He chuckled, “haven’t heard that one before.”

“Well, because you haven’t been seen in town in a few weeks, Oswald allowed her out, and she’s getting her cafe back.”

He sighed in relief. “That’s wonderful news.” Then, after a long pause, he admitted. “I think it’s safe to say it really is a bad idea for me to go into town.”

“For now,” Astrid insisted. “But not forever.”

The Rider didn’t argue with her, but his body language showed that he didn’t agree.

Funny. She had gotten so good at reading him that even without his face, she could understand what he was thinking.

“What do you look like?” She asked, after a moment.

“What?”

“Under the mask,” she clarified. “Your face. What’s it look like?”

Calmly, he explained, “your worst nightmare.”

She tilted her head in doubt. “Really?”

“Under the mask, whatever would be visible is different for everyone that sees it. It responds to fear. That’s why I wear the mask.”

“Oh…does it…work on you too? If you look in the mirror?”

“Yes.”

Astrid’s eyes slid shut, a horrible gut churning nausea in her stomach. To not be able to look at yourself ever?

“But…” He mused. He came and knelt in front of her, and held his hands out to her. “Give me your hand, and close your eyes.”

Curious, but nonetheless hesitant, she did as instructed, and rested a hand in his and closed her eyes.

“Keep them closed until I tell you it’s safe.”

“Okay.”

He raised her hand up and placed it on the apple of his cheek. “It’s not ideal, but you can kind of imagine my face.”

She brought her other hand up to the other side, and felt along the contours of his face. His skin was smooth over his cheeks, but became rough around his jaw, where scratchy hairs of a day beard were present. She felt the dip of his cheekbones, the faint laugh lines around his mouth and nose. His lips were thin, but pulled into a friendly smile. His mouth was even slightly open, and she cautiously touched his teeth. They were square, crooked, but not sharp like she sometimes feared.

His chin was rounded, and ever so slightly protruding, probably proud. His nose felt wide, almost bulbous at the end. The bridge was smooth and bowed, and led up to two thick eyebrows. She smoothed over them with her thumbs. She felt the flutter of eyelashes on her fingertips, but of course didn’t actually touch his eyes. Strangely enough, the flames from his eyes didn’t seem to emit heat.

“What color are your eyes?”

“I can’t remember.”

“You’re killing me here.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled. She felt his smile widen and his eyes crinkle with mirth. She felt his smooth forehead, and found his hair thick and fluffy. He had a widow's peak.

“Your hair?”

“Same.”

This didn’t seem like the face of a 300 year old man. Or of a monster. It was a very normal, human face. He didn’t have wrinkles or leathery skin. He didn’t have fur or scales.

“I think you’re very handsome,” she concluded, pulling her hands away.

“Also the first time I’ve heard that.” He secured the mask back into place. “You can open your eyes now.”

She did, allowing the familiar sight of the animal skull mask to replace the imaginary image of what she had felt. “Thank you for sharing that with me, it—” she paused and held back the truth ‘it gave me peace of mind’. Instead, she said, “it was enlightening.”

He hummed, probably smiling.

—

Summer never lasted as long as Astrid wanted it too. The dog days turned to autumn. There were a scant few weeks of the season where the trees put on their most formal attire in reds, oranges, and yellows.

And then the rain came. Rain that would turn into snow, and the unforgiving winter of Berk would be here to stay for many months.

But for now, the trees were still in their warm colors. The flowers of the field faded. The coneflowers turned black and sharp.

Astrid and the Rider sought shelter from the faint drizzle overhead. On the western side of the field, closer to the castle, there was a cliff face. At its base was an alcove, nothing big enough to call a cave, but a niche carved in the stone. A log sat there, offering comfort to those seeking shelter.

There they sat, watching the rain as it turned to mist in the distance.

“It’ll get cold soon,” said the Rider.

“Hmmhmm.”

“It won’t be practical to meet here anymore.”

“I suppose you’re right. Where should we meet instead?”

“If you’re willing, come to the base of the footpath to the castle. I can meet you there, and bring you back to the castle on Toothless.”

“Is it okay for me to come into your home?”

“As long as you’re invited by the master…which is me.”

“That works for me. What’s it like? Snotlout said it was big.”

“It is,” he confirmed. “The first several years, I got lost many times. Now I have my favorite places, and leave the rest alone.”

“Is that why you said it was dangerous? Because you can get lost?”

“Yes and no,” he said vaguely.