#“astrid the dead guys are fighting again” “i have like. twenty other things to worry about. get earplugs like nazir.”

[unironicallytes]

Sujamma Sundas

[This week Sujamma has been brushing up on his literacy. It's hard being a humble Nix-Hound. Reading doesn't come naturally to him, but he's doing his best! This week Sujamma is hoping you will help him learn to read!

Post a favorite scene, favorite sentence, favorite dialogue, favorite anything from any fic you've written! If you haven't written any fic, feel free to share your ideas. If you don't have any, recommend a friend's fic!]

Thank ye kindly for the tag @dirty-bosmer! 𝐵𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃'𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝒜𝓀𝒶𝓉𝑜𝓈𝒽 𝓊𝓅𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑒

Tagging: @orfeoarte @ulanxxxs @thegrunkiest @areggo and anyone who wants to join!

I'll be pulling from my Oblivion Dark Brotherhood fic Dear Brother. But my favorite snippet comes from chapters and years ahead of where the story currently sits. It's a spoilery af scene which may or may not occur exactly as written, because it was only meant to be practice for how it might look, then I got carried away and now I love it. Here, Lucien and Zathiril have to deal with the fact that their actions have consequences. (Zathiril's dialogue is formatted the way that it is due to using an enchanted amulet as a speaking aid - it projects his thoughts into the surrounding space as an imitation of his voice.)

[Mercy??] Finally, I whirled on him, eyes flashing with rage. Soft-bellied coward that he was, he jerked his face away to hide beneath hood’s shadow. He asked me to face him, yet he quailed at my justified anger? Pathetic! My heart and I agreed, for it leapt into my throat, though it could not scream alongside me from behind a dam of scars. Only its rattling breath hissed out beneath enchanted, metallic cry. [Mercy woulda stayed yer hand long enough to listen to me! Lyin’ bastard, root-gnawin’, bark-borin’ beetle of a man - ye did it to save yerself an’ yerself alone!] “I had no choice!” he shot back. “None of us knew what Mathieu had done to you, and he’d conspired for the Hand to turn on me, too–” [Oh! Did they now! Served ye right, then - fat lot o’ good it did ye to throw me to the senche after all, eh?] At some point I'd stood from my chair, hands balled into shaking fists, but I didn't recall exactly when. Others in the Sanctuary were likely to overhear this fight over long-dead matters between two long-dead men, and I didn’t care a lick. My piece was to be said. My fangs were to seek blood from the bloodless. [How did it feel, then? To scream for yer Family’s ear as they fell upon ye anyway?] Lucien struggled weakly in my jaws. “I … cannot speak on this–” [Did ye protest long when they accused ye, or did they stifle yer cries? Did they call ye a filthy liar, or a traitorous snake?] “I – they–... ” My teeth sank deeper still. [Go’an, I’m dyin’ to hear! Tell me, did ye weep like a pup as I did? Did ye look into the face of yer brother and beg as I did?] “Zathiril …” I thrashed and ripped and tore, and he let me. [How did it feel when ye realized ye were all alone?] A killing blow. Lucien hung his head, wordless. A tear visibly hung from where it trailed down to his chin. It should have sated me to push a selfish worm like him to this brink, but no relief came with my fire’s dousing. There was only the empty twist of my guts as the words echoed and skipped across stone.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

(Some of) My Favourite Quotes from the How To Train Your Dragon movies

“This is Berk.”

“There’s Fishlegs, Snotlout, the Twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, and...*voice crack* Astrid. *cue heart eyes*”

"You sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much raw... Viking-ness... contained?! THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES!" // “I’ll take my chances.”

"Well, between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?"

“Excuse me, barmaid! I’m afraid you’ve brought me the wrong offspring - I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms, extra guts and glory on the side! This here? This is a talking fish bone!”

"It's not so much what you look like, it's what's inside that he can't stand."

“You need to stop all...this.” // “You just pointed to all of me.” // “Yes, that’s it! Stop being all of you.”

"Oh, the gods hate me. Some people lose their knife, or their mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an ENTIRE DRAGON?!"

"Oh, man! I should've gone first! 'Cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough... Bread-making Vikings? Or small-home-repair Vikings?"

"Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

“Yeah, no kidding, right? Pain, love it."

“What’s the first thing you’re going to need?” // “A doctor?!?”

“Get back to bed, ya overgrown sausage!”

"Toothless? I could've sworn you had... teeth."

“Ha! It’s like the size of my- AHHHH!”

“I AM HURT, VERY MUCH HURT!”

"Everything we know about you guys is wrong."

“SON OF A HALF TROLL, RAT EATING MUNGE BUCKET!”

"Uh, you're right, you're right, you're right. I'm through with the lies. I've been making... outfits. So, you got me. It's time everyone knew. Drag me back. Go ahead. Here we go."

"OW! Why would you DO that?!"

"That's for the lies! And that's... [Drops the butt of her axe on Hiccup's groin]... for everything else!"

“Da-da-da, we’re dead!”

“And now the spinning. Thank you for nothing, you useless reptile.”

[Punches Hiccup] "That's for kidnapping me... [Kisses him on the cheek] That's for everything else."

“They’ve killed hundreds of us-!” // “And we’ve killed thousands of them!”

“You’re not a Viking. You’re not my son.”

“Three hundred years and I’m the first Viking who wouldn’t kill a dragon.” // “...First to ride one though.”

“I wouldn’t kill him because he looked as frightened as I was...I looked at him, and I saw myself.”

“So? What are you gonna do?”

“I knew it. I’m dead.”

“That’s for scaring me!” // “What, is it always going to be this way, this-?!” // *kisses him* // “I...could get used to it.”

“THAT’S MY FUTURE DAUGHTER IN LAW!!!”

"Oh, what? You want an apology? Is that why you're pouting, big baby-poo?"

"Well try this on! [hugs him, tries to wrestle with him] Oh, you feeling it yet? Huh? Picking up on all of my heartfelt remorse?"

“He's down! Oh, and it's ugly! Dragons and Vikings, enemies again! Locked in combat to the bitter--[Toothless pins Hiccup] --AAHHHhhhh..."

[After Toothless licks him] "You KNOW that doesn't wash out!"

"So, what should we name it?" [Toothless scratches his armpit] "Itchy Armpit it is."

“Son, we need to talk!-“ // “Not now, dad, I’ve got a whole day of goofing off to get started.”

“What you’re searching for isn’t out there, Hiccup - it’s in here. Maybe you just don’t see it yet.”

(Slow motion) “Oh my 😏 me likey... take me...!”

"I don't know. It's kind of hard to wrap my head around, to be frank. It's not everyday you find out your mother is some kind of... crazy, feral, vigilante dragon lady." // “Well...at least I’m not boring!”

“...he got me back. Right, bud? You couldn't save all of me, could you? You just had to make it even. So,..peg leg!”

"Never take a toy from a dragon. Don't you know anything?"

“This is why I never married - this, and one other reason.”

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

"That's your mother?" // “Well, now you see where I get my dramatic flair!"

“May the Valkyries welcome you and lead you through Odin's great battlefield. May they sing your name with love and fury, so that we might hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you've taken your rightful place at the table of kings. For a great man has fallen: A warrior. A chieftain. A father. A friend.

“He always said you’d become the strongest of them all - and he was right.”

“You have the heart of a Chief and the soul of a dragon”

“A Chief protects his own.”

“It wasn’t your fault, bud...they made you do it...please, you’re my best friend...my best friend.”

"Yeah! Take 'em down, babe!"

“Now do you get it? This is what it is to earn a dragons loyalty!”

“He’s challenging the Alpha!” // “To protect you!”

“See..I told you it was in here.” (Punches his suit, making his wings sprout up)

“The Chief has come home!”

"This is Berk. A bit trampled and busted and covered in ice, but it's home. It's our home. Those who attacked us, are relentless, and crazy. But those who stopped them, oh, even more so! We may be small in numbers, but we stand for something bigger than anything the world can pin against us. We are the voice of peace, and bit by bit, we will change this world. You see, we have something they don't. Oh, sure, they have armies, and they have armadas. But we... we have... OUR DRAGONS!”

“Ohhh I know you’re a demon, no human legs are that skinny!”

“That’s really just a nitwit who forgot to fire proof his butt.”

“Astrid, I had him right where I wanted him.” // “And now he’s right where I wanted him.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a stealth mission?” // “Yeah, they always start that way.”

“Mmm, gorg-e-ousss...Watch the hair!”

“Hang up those saddles and get married.” // Tuffnut: “The M word.” // Ruffnut: “Gross. Unless it’s me.”

“Marry him, please. You’re the only one with any sense around here. With you wearing the pants, there’s still hope.” “Wow, Gobber! Not awkward at all!”

“Hiccup...this is Berk, son. It’s our home.”

“Even Night Furies?” // “Especially Night Furies.” // “Those are scary!”

“Well, we could just take Gobber’s advice and tie the knot. That should fix everything! But hey, if you’re having doubts about yours truly, I’m sure Snotlout is still available.” // “He only has eyes for your mom.” // “OH, playing dirty now, huh?” // “You asked for it...looks like there might be a wedding after all...”

“Okay okay; you win! You always win!” // “You knew what you were getting into.” // “Uh-huh, right.”

“It’s more like a Bright Fury-.” // “A Light Fury!” // “...Yeah, yours is better, probably...”

“Bud, what’s gotten into you? What is all this slobbering and panting?” // “Isn’t it obvious? He’s in love!” // “Trust me, relationships are nothing but pain and misery. (*Astrid lightly hits him*) Ow... What did I just say?!”

“Show these nay sayers, of which there are many, that you are more than just a malnourished runt with bad hair, strange teeth and a twig for a neck.” // “You're-you're really bad at pep talks.”

“I'll give him a piece of my mind. And by mind, I mean fist!”

“Did you miss the part where we almost died? Have you seen my house?”

“Look, I know this is our home - my father left me to protect it. But Berk is more than this place. WE are Berk! The people, the dragons! I say Berk is wherever we go!”

“We have to fight for their freedom.”

“Furies mate for life, you see.”

“Ah don’t mind him - it’s not your fault you have the body of a Norse God. I myself have that same problem.” (Tries to flex, back cracks painfully)

“Who died and made you Chief?” (*everyone groans/Gothi hits him*)

“Can we lose the whole honking goose thing? It’s hard to imagine wedded bliss with that going off every minute.”

“I’ll go with you, for protection-.” // “(quickly) NO...(pause)...you’re far too important here.”

“Oh, now you can draw!”

“Save it for your girlfriend! Go on, get out of here!”

“About that leg...lose the limp, no ones gonna marry that.” // “I have a prosthetic leg!” // “Yeah, and I have a parasitic twin but you don’t see me limping around about it!”

“I feel like how Ruffnut feels every day: dumb.”

“Odin be spanked!”

“I try to avoid looking at her because she gives me acid reflux.”

“If they’re stuck with Ruffnut, I’m more worried about them.”

“I know what you're thinking. You've never had a prisoner this hot.”

“Oops, you let the dragons out! They’re gonna get you, no this ones gonna get you...!”

“Now that’s a king.”

“Dad? Are you gonna get us a new mom?” // “I don’t want another. Your mum was the only woman for me. She was the love of my life. But with love comes loss, son. It’s part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it’s all worth it. There’s no greater gift than love.”

“Well, you’re right. You’re back to where you started. But I was the first to believe in you, and I have watched you doubt whether you’re worthy ever since. I am the person I am today because of you. I never told you that but it’s true. You’re the bravest, most stubborn, determined knucklehead I know. Toothless didn’t give you that, Hiccup. He just made it...” // “Easier.”

“So what are you gonna do about it?” // “Probably something stupid.” // “That’s the Hiccup I know.”

“You’re right, bud. It’s time. I was so busy fighting for a world that I wanted, I didn’t think about what you needed. You’ve looked after us for long enough. Time to look after yourselves.”

“Oh, Stormfly...my good girl.”

“So long...you big ugly beast. I’ll miss you.”

“Go on, bud. Lead them to the Hidden World. You’ll be safe there. Safer than you could ever be with me. It’s okay. I love you too. And I want you to be free. Our world doesn’t deserve you. Yet.”

“Go, Toothless...Go.”

“There were dragons when I was a boy. Ah, there were great, grim sky dragons that nested on the clifftops like gigantic, scary birds. Little, brown, scuttly dragons that hunted down the mice and rats in well-organized packs. Preposterously huge sea dragons that were twenty times as big as the big blue whale. Some say they crawled back into the sea, leaving not a bone nor a fang for men to remember them by. Others say they were nothing but folktales to begin with. I’m okay with that.”

“He’s not going to eat your father!”

“Legend says that when the ground quakes, or lava spews from the earth, it’s the dragons, letting us know they’re still here, waiting for us to figure out how to get along. Yes, the world believes the dragons are gone, if they ever existed at all. But we Berkians, we know otherwise. And we’ll guard this secret until the time comes when dragons can return in peace.”

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 14

Sorry this took forever, I was super blocked and had to go hike so much and then it just kind of all burst forth in the last couple days...but you’re all going to hate me...sorry (I’m not but...)

AO3

“That guy over there,” Heather appears over Hiccup’s shoulder at the Ripped Tavern bar, sliding a frothy glass of something his direction, “ordered an IPA and then upon delivery, told me he was really glad we had something that wasn’t hoppy.  Do you want it?”  

“What do you want Heather?” Hiccup doesn’t look at her or the glass, tipping the brim of his top hat forward to block the glare of the street light through the bar’s front window.  

“I’m trying to offer you something free—“

“I’m good.”  Hiccup is glad to be honest, after the last week of the largest tours he’s ever given.  The seven o’clock is averaging over thirty, nine isn’t much slower at twenty-seven, and there was that landmark eleven o’clock with fifteen people hanging onto his every whisper, miraculously leaving more fulfilled from the truth instead of wild extrapolation.  

It doesn’t hurt that sometimes Astrid leaves the curtains open and shouts down help, a glovebox flashlight pointing at the Al. I safe message in a blurry way that means he should buy her a laser pointer with the reassuring stack of cash in his pocket.  

“How have things been?” Heather presses onward, elbows on the bar, her pale, stressed face appearing at the edge of his vision.  He remembers that expression from the weeks after their Johann discovery, her expression pulled tight like keeping a secret and potentially losing status because of it was physically poisonous to her.

“Since you started expertly advising the police and I took even more of your business?”  Hiccup snorts and takes the beer, trying to keep a straight face through a gulp of the bitter fizz, “pretty good, you?”  

“I’m glad business is booming,” she manages half a wan smile and Hiccup finally turns to her, face hard.  

“What do you want?”  He gestures at the promotions board advertising a ‘six-victim’ value pack of sliders to-go to take on tours, “obviously being nice to me isn’t going to get you anywhere.”  

“I wasn’t being nice,” she hisses, purely tired now, worry creeping in at the edges, “I was trying to bribe you.”  

“That won’t work either.” It’s not profiteering if he’s toning down the sensationalism.  He repeats the sentiment like a mantra and turns in his stool to face her.  “If you’re trying to ask a favor, admit it and say please.”  

“We both know it’s not a favor for you to overanalyze something,” she rolls her eyes, fragile and more dangerous for it, and he can’t help but remember when that danger was fun.  When it meant discovery instead of police involvement.  

He doesn’t think she gained much from sharing secrets, but they aren’t close enough anymore for him to say it.

“It’s kind of my ground state of existence, but you know the saying, never give away your talents for free.” He takes another gulp of the skunky beer and waits.  

It doesn’t take long.  

“Did you read the note on the package that was shipped to Snotlout?”  Her voice is quiet enough that he’d have to lean in to hear her clearly, but he doesn’t, shrugging a shoulder she can obviously tell his tense.

“Did you know that being deeply disturbed by someone opening a package to find a disembodied foot from a recent murder victim can actually affect your reading comprehension?”  

“Hiccup—“

“No, really, I’m eagerly awaiting the results of the study, I’m hoping they can explain some other things. Like a bonus diagnostic evaluation of whatever’s going on up there—“

“Do you want to see it?”  

It takes Hiccup a moment to compose his face.  

He knows how he does feel, how he should feel, and what he should show and they all fight with facial muscles that haven’t quite learned not to trust her yet.  

He’s spent hours on that note. He’s used to missing part of the story, but usually the lacking bits are a hundred plus years old, and not likely possessed by his ex-best friend, the supposed expert on them.  He’s frustrated and close and part of him wants to ask Heather as much as she obviously wants to ask him.  

If he hadn’t seen it or had the presence of mind to take a picture of it, he’d be near frothing at the mouth for a chance.  She doesn’t even have to convince him of the Grimborn connection, it’s in the open now, not only on the police radar but contributing to the bearing of the investigation.  Plus, his connection to the victims would—does—make him thrilled for a chance to exonerate himself.  

But he’d have to keep that secret from her, to make her pry it out of him, even though if she succeeded he’d only look guiltier.  As it stands, it’s best not to let her try.  

“I think it looks better for my case if I haven’t, don’t you?”  He sips the beer again, practicing his straight face around a mouthful he can’t quite taste through the soured friendship in the air.  “Plus, you’re the police expert.”  

“Come on, you can’t tell me you’re hung up on the expert thing, are you?”  She laughs and it’s fake, the way she used to laugh at Snotlout’s stories he’s told a thousand times when she wanted him to move on.  “It’s not like they could hire you, it’d look like nepotism.”  

She avoids the conflict of interest when it suits her.  

“Snotlout isn’t actually my domestic partner, you know that.”  

Heather purses her lips and sighs, scratching her head and taking too long to tuck hair behind her ear. Classic Berserker pre-politeness behavior.  

“Ok, I’m…stumped.  Is there any way you could look at it with me.” She reads his unflinching face and gets even smaller, “for me.”

Hiccup purposefully slurps the beer as loud as he can and the woman sitting next to him shifts one bar stool down.  

“Please,” Heather grits between her teeth and Hiccup stands up.

“I’ve actually got a nine o’clock tour to amass right now, and I’m pretty booked up for the next…forever ensuring that nothing impacts the way I perceive un-sensationalized truths,” he talks at her like she’s a stubborn tourist asking again and again about murders a century too recent to be ready for curiosity to be welcome amidst their tragedy.  “But maybe after that sometime.  Have Dagur put this on my tab,” he slides the half a beer back towards her.  

“You don’t have a tab,” Heather sighs, miserably at the same time as Dagur calls out from the other end of the bar.  

“Got it, Brother!”  

Hiccup waves in thanks and turns away from the bar, adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder.  There’s a small group starting to mill around his usual table and he can’t help but note their glove-less hands and lament clammy fingers on his still un-laminated copy of the Al. I safe picture.  He hasn’t had time to go back by the archives, what with trying to analyze the foot-note and three frankly exhausting tours a night.  

When he first spots blonde out of the corner of his eye, he assumes it’s the fact that thinking about the archives and the picture naturally makes him think of Astrid, but a double take finds Ruffnut leaning on her elbows across the table.  He only has a few minutes before gathering his next tour group, but he heads that way anyway, not so subtly hoping that Heather is watching.  

Snotlout’s wrong, Heather was never anything more than his friend and research partner, but that doesn’t mean he can’t not so quietly announce that he can make more friends whenever he feels like it.  

“Hey guys,” he slides into the chair between them at the table for four, folding his hands in front of him, “what’s up?”  

They’re both absolutely silent for a moment until Ruffnut waves, eyebrows raised.  

“Hi,” Astrid’s voice is uncharacteristically quiet, “I thought—I mean, don’t you have a tour?”  

He checks the time, “in a couple minutes, I’ve got time to say hi though.”  

Astrid’s smile is tight lipped and embarrassed, but earnest, and he frowns.  

“Is everything ok?”  

“Not really,” Ruffnut cuts in, leaning her pointy chin on her palm and narrowing dangerous eyes.  

“Oh?”  Hiccup’s hand itches to reach for Astrid’s knee under the table but he’s utterly unsure whether that’s allowed and he keeps his fingers folded tight together.  

“My toilet’s leaking,” Ruffnut’s grin spreads slowly, “I heard if you fix it for me though, there’s a bonus ass show.”  

Hiccup’s face freezes, undoubtedly turning blue as his blood runs cold.  

“You guys are talking about the other night,” he swallows, glancing wide-eyed at Astrid, whose blush is extending under her bangs.  “And I interrupted.”  

“It’s fine—“  Astrid puts her nervous hand on his and he feels stupid all over again.  

He doesn’t know how to explain that she’s not something that happens to him often.  How he doesn’t even want to hope because this all seems so impossible, in flux with so much awful and so outside his luck and circumstance that he doesn’t know what to do about it.  And how he wants to do everything about it but not in the same shirt he had on when he was at the police station to explain his involvement with a murder victim’s severed foot.  

“Yeah, it’s just that Astrid isn’t really used to rejection,” Ruffnut waves casually, “I mean look at her.”

Hiccup swallows hard, “I have.”

“It’s fine—”  Astrid placates, glaring at Ruffnut, who’s still grinning like she just set off a firework she’s been looking forward to for months.  

“No, it’s not—It wasn’t a rejection, I just smelled like police station and probably dead foot—”

“It was a rough day, I get it—”

“And I meant it when I said I’d be kicking myself, I have been, with both feet—”

“You really don’t have to,” she glares at Ruffnut, but it has little to no impact, “I’m sorry you had to witness me learning my lesson about telling Ruffnut anything at all, ever.”  

“Don’t apologize—”  Hiccup holds his hands up in surrender or to hide his bright red face.  There’s no way it looks as cute as the flush across the bridge of Astrid’s nose.  He’s definitely sweating under the hat and lamenting Berk’s Victorian Era Craftsmen’s obsession with wool.  

“Like you’ll ever stop telling me things,” Ruffnut shakes her head, “who else can you go to for excellent advice?”  

“Literally anyone else,” Astrid snaps, eyes darting back and forth between Hiccup and the person she until recently called her friend.  

“Do you want to know the advice?” Ruffnut raises an eyebrow, evil grin widening.  

“Ruffnut,” Astrid growls and there’s something cornered about it that piques Hiccup’s curiosity even through his deep and abiding embarrassment.  “Do not—”

“I’m talking to Hiccup.” She rolls her eyes, “so do you want to hear the advice?”  

“Excuse me,” someone taps on Hiccup’s shoulder and he whirls around to see a woman wearing a freshly bought, still wrinkled Grimborn shirt like the ones hanging from the rafters, “are you in charge of the walk-on nine o’clock Viggo Grimborn tour?”  

“Yes, I’ll be over there in just a minute—”

“The website said the tour meets at nine o’clock and it’s three minutes after,” the woman taps her watch and Hiccup sighs.  

“Just give me a minute—”

“You know I was so disappointed when I saw Berserker tours booked out two months, they have all the best reviews, but I found your tour rated almost as well on Trip Advisor and thought I’d take a shot,” she purses her lips like the kind of person who reads tabloids to judge the caliber of the journalism, “no one said anything about tardiness—”

“It’s fine, Hiccup,” Astrid pats his knee under the table, fingers light and fleeting but present enough to send a thrill up his spine, even through the embarrassment and irritation at the interruption.  

“Are you giving The Real Viggo Grimborn tour?”  An older teenage boy appears on Hiccup’s other side, pointing at Hiccup’s website on his phone.  “It said on the website you’d be in ‘period wear’, is that what the hat is?  Is the tour just about the old murders or are you going to talk about the new ones too?”  

“Go,” Astrid sighs, “your audience awaits.”  

“They can await another minute,” Hiccup glares at the first woman who starts reading aloud as she types an unflattering review.  

“I know Berserker tours is talking about the new murders,” a second boy nudges his friend and looks at Heather admiringly, “we could still see if we could get on their tour tomorrow.”

“They’re booked out for months,” the first boy shoves his phone closer to Hiccup’s face, “this is you, right?”

“Fine!” Hiccup stands up and Astrid’s hand falling away from his leg leaving a cold spot even through the too thick material of his old coat, “the nine o’clock Grimborn tour is leaving now, if you want to be on it, come give me money on the way out the side door.”

“Review update pending tour conclusion,” the woman says imperiously as she puts her phone away and Hiccup allows himself one last glance at Astrid as he puts his tour guide persona into place.  

She’s not looking at him and it serves as a timely reminder that even deserved rejection stings.  

It’s Hiccup’s biggest tour group ever and he talks faster because of it, dodging questions about recent murder victims and trying to lure the group back in time with his most scandalous Grimborn era stories.  

Sometimes reversing a bad review on Trip Advisor means staring someone his mother’s age in the face and explaining an example pay scale of a Victorian Berkian prostitute by sex act, and at some point, he became ok with that.  

“And now, if you aren’t already glad for The Real Grimborn Tour’s full dark, nine o’clock tour option that is not offered by Berserker tours,” he whispers reverently in front of the wall outside of Astrid’s apartment, “you will be now, as I have the only picture of a message accepted by experts to have been written by the one and only Viggo Grimborn, on this very well.”  

“Are you talking about the ‘All Safe’ message?”  A man in the back asks too loud and Hiccup waits a beat for Astrid to announce herself and correct him.  

She doesn’t.  

Hiccup knows she’s probably still out with Ruffnut, likely discussing one of the most spastically regrettable moments of his life, but her pulled shut curtains still tug crooked at his chest, like a possibility falling off of a ledge in slow motion.  

“Wasn’t that erased by rain?” Another man asks, thankfully on topic, and Hiccup digs through his bag for the picture.  

“Not before a lucky photographer with the Berk Enquirer got a shot of it,” he hands it to the front row, who mostly pass it on without looking, whispering to each other about future murders in excited voices Hiccup pretends not to hear, “it was recently found by a friend who was generous enough to make me a copy of it.  I’ll let you look at it on the way to site two, if you’ll follow me…”

Her windows are closed for the eleven o’clock too.  They usually are, but Hiccup reads more into it than he should, pausing a little too long and explaining the layout of the building a hundred years ago to a crowd more scared of shadows flickering in real time than ghosts.  

Hiccup used to come home from tours energized, ready to do his own research or explore the city without a following, but the last week has been beyond draining.  Almost desk job level, he’d guess, and he deflates as soon as he makes it through the front door, tossing his hat at its hook and missing.  

He could leave it on the floor. It’s not like there’s anything inherently damaging to a hat about being on the floor and bending over to pick it up sounds like a lot of work.  

The pull chain of the lamp startles him and he jumps at the light flashing on to reveal Snotlout, shirtless in his dad’s chair, features thrown into ominous shadow by the angled light.

“Fuck,” Hiccup claps his hand over his heart, “I get that you’re saving power by leaving the overhead light off, but the dramatic lamp pull is a little over the top, don’t you think?”  

“I talked to Ruffnut,” Snotlout says calmly, a few shades off of his cop voice, and Hiccup frowns as he hangs up his jacket.  

“Oh yeah?  How’s that going?”  He doesn’t mention that he also talked to Ruffnut, as he’s had a long enough day as is, even without being reminded that he didn’t get a chance to hear her advice.  

“Can you tell me about the events of last Saturday?”  Snotlout leans forward, elbows on his knees, and Hiccup recognizes his interrogation stance number three from the time he had Hiccup asses which out of five interrogation stances was the most intimidating.  

Three won.  

“You mean the time you had a foot mailed to you?”  Hiccup bites his tongue against adding the whole part about his suspicions that some crazy is trying to frame Snotlout.  It’s like the note, the less they know, the safer they are.  “What part do you need a refresher on?”  

“The part where after you borrowed money from me, you went and bought curtains, which you then installed at Astrid’s apartment,” Snotlout smacks his hands on his knees in a less threatening rendition of Detective Eretson’s display of strength.  Although maybe the lack of threat can be attributed to his Batman pajama pants.  “Where my sources tell me that you made out with her and she invited you to her bedroom, but you declined the offer.  Does any of that sound familiar to you?”  

Hiccup judges the distance to his bedroom door.  Usually, he can make it before Snotlout tackles him, but the abrupt restarting of tours along with avoiding his usual shortcuts has left his back creaky and vulnerable.  A tackle isn’t worth risking.  

“By your source, you mean Ruffnut?”  

“I’m asking the questions here, Hiccup,” Snotlout points at the couch, “why don’t you have a seat?”  

“Have you been working on your Eretson impression?”  Hiccup perches on the edge of the couch, avoiding eye contact.  “It’s not bad—”

“First of all, he’s been working on his me impression, and it’s awful.  Second, what the fuck are you doing trying to mess it up with Astrid on purpose?”  

“I’m not,” Hiccup shakes his head, “that’s—”

“You know you’ve hung out with some real duds, right?  There was the girl you met at the homeless shelter who kept on arguing with me about police brutality at like seven in the morning.  There was Heather, there was that month you kept bringing home girls from tours until—”

“Let’s not talk about that right now,” Hiccup runs his hand through his hair and swears he can smell the anxiety pouring off of him, “and stop with the Heather thing.  And Olivia worked at a homeless shelter, she saw a different side of the force than you do—”

“No, you aren’t derailing this conversation.  You know I got Raymond fired for that shit last year, and Astrid is really fucking hot. Like I don’t know why she’s talking to you hot.  Plus she’s a fucking nerd, but I can still talk to her, and she’s Ruffnut’s friend. You aren’t just messing this up for yourself, you’re messing it up for both of us.”  Snotlout points a stern finger at him, “so before you fuck it up entirely, tell me honestly what the hell was going through your head when you decided not to sleep with her.”  

“Well,” Hiccup tugs at his collar, staring down at his shoes, “I’m sure you’ll understand this, we woke up a little after four that day and I was at her house around eleven, so if I’d gone to sleep then it would have been equivalent to someone with a daytime schedule going to sleep at around four or five.  And given I was on the cusp of restarting tours, that would have really messed with my sleep schedule—ouch!”  

Snotlout’s phone bounces off of Hiccup’s forehead and lands on the floor.  

“Cut the shit, Haddock.”  

“I can’t remember my thought process,” Hiccup glares, rubbing his head, “not since some officer brutally knocked it out of me—”

“You had a date with her, which means you obviously like her and how could you not because I swear dude, the hottest nerd I’ve ever—”

“Yes, she’s really hot, I get it,” he stands up and starts pacing, hands folded behind his back where it pangs with every step, “I know, I rejected the hot—but it’s more than that, she’s so—she’s determined and adorable and smart—so fucking smart, I can’t slip anything by her and—”

“You’re practically puking heart emojis right now,” Snotlout shakes his head, “And you know what?  She sounded really fucking worried about you when Grisly came by her work and she went on your creepy private tour when she barely even knew you—”

“I know!”  Hiccup yanks at his hair, “I know all of that, I don’t—”

“And then after the creepiest fucking day, she made out with you and invited you back to her bedroom and you said no,” Snotlout folds his hands over his knee, poised to put the clues together in a neat package and deliver his final verdict, “which means that you chose to keep thinking about a murder victim’s feet instead of seeing Astrid naked.”

“I don’t think I’d summarize it quite like that,” Hiccup stares hard at Snotlout to avoid thinking of either in the same moment.  

“Well, I would, because it leads pretty neatly to two possible solutions,” he numbers on his fingers, “one, you’re a creepier fucker than I ever imagined—”

“Hey!”  

“Or two, you’re out of your league here and need my help.  And if it’s two, and I hope it’s two because I hate apartment shopping—”

“You’ve never lived anywhere but your parents’ house or here—”

“Because I hate apartment shopping so much,” Snotlout rolls his eyes, “duh.  Anyway, I think you should give me your phone so I can text her and fix this.”  

“No,” Hiccup checks his pocket to make sure his phone is still there and that it hasn’t magically poofed into Snotlout’s pocket.  “I know those odds.”  

“Yes, you know that four out of the five times you let me text girls for you, you got laid.”  Snotlout holds his hand out, “and she already wanted to bang you, so this one will be easy.”  

“And the fifth time I got punched in the face,” Hiccup rubs his cheek at the memory, “I’m not letting you—it’s too important, ok?  She’s too important.  I already like her too much, that’s—it’s not just some girl I swiped right on or met at Gruff’s, it’s…she’s too important for police station grime and—”

“I’m sure she has a shower,” he scoffs.  

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the way to Astrid’s heart,” Hiccup gesticulates, “I should have just asked to take a shower to wash off the eau de dead guy foot—”

“Oh my god!”  Snotlout jumps up, jabbing a finger too hard into Hiccup’s chest and refusing to remove it even when Hiccup smacks his hand. “You’re doing it again.”  

“Doing what again?”  

“That thing where one bad thing happens so no good things can happen ever,” he shouts, throwing his arms up, and Hiccup rubs his chest, checking for a permanent indent.

“I don’t do that.”  

“You do, you so do.” Snotlout picks his phone up and starts typing something, “any normal person gets mailed a dead foot and they make a booty call to clear their mind.  Not you, though, you turn down Astrid, the hottest girl who’s ever talked to you, in order to make your life all about creepy tours again—”

“You aren’t texting her, are you?” He tries to grab Snotlout’s phone but gets a shoulder to the chest for his effort.  

“No, I’m not, not that it’s any of your business,” he puts his phone in his pocket and shoves Hiccup’s shoulder a little harder than is probably explicitly necessary, “stop it, ok? Talk to her, apologize for being a spaz, tell her all that mushy shit you just told me and invite her to sit on your f—”

“Gah!”  Hiccup claps his hands over his ears and Snotlout pries them off again, smushing Hiccup’s cheeks so that he can’t talk.  

“When I let go, you’re going to say ‘yes, Snotlout, thanks for the genius advice, I’ll do exactly that’, ok?”

Hiccup nods to get his face back and rubs his jaw when Snotlout lets go, “you know I can’t take a lecture seriously when you’re shirtless.”  

“Too bad, my tan is setting,” he looks down at his chest, “now what were you going to say?”

He has gotten too far without being tackled to give up that streak now.  

“Thanks for the advice.”  

“Genius advice.”  

“Advice,” Hiccup pats him on the head, narrowly dodging having his arm twisted behind his back as he races to his dad’s old office and locks the door behind him.  Snotlout pounds on it a couple of times before giving up and the familiar sounds of setting up a video game drift through the thick wood.  

00000

Hiccup never used to drink before work.  It was a point of pride, a testament to taking tours and correct dispersal of Viggo Grimborn knowledge seriously.  

Well, that and he couldn’t afford Ripped Tavern prices for a while when he first went out on his own, but that’s neither here nor there because it became a principle thing.  

And like all principles, it had its crumbling point, which was apparently the day after Snotlout’s lecture when he woke up to fifteen questions about the copycat killer and one bland apology text from Astrid with a period at the end.  

Snotlout suggested breakfast happy hour at Gruff’s, given that it’s his day off, and Hiccup was stunned enough at the invitation in the wake of his head-patting that he went along without much fuss.  The bar is packed when they get there and Gruffnut makes sure to flip off Snotlout before disappearing into the back room.  

“Remember how good the service used to be before he knew what your job was?” Hiccup starts to sit at a barstool but Snotlout grabs his elbow, pulling him over to a dirty table by the wall and swiping balled-up napkins onto the floor.  “Why the table?”  

“I want wings.”  

“Last time you got wings I had to use the bathroom at the sandwich shop across the street because you wouldn’t leave the toilet,” Hiccup snorts, ignoring Snotlout’s glare.  

“That was one time.”  

“Well, it was twice because it happened over a period of like five hours but—”

Snotlout kicks him hard under the table at the same time as he waves at the door, “over here!”  

“Who?”  Hiccup’s question dies in his throat when he looks over his shoulder and sees Astrid, reluctant and stumbling after Ruffnut, who has an irrefutable grip on her arm.  “You invited them?”  

“I invited Ruffnut, who said she was already hanging out with Astrid today, so I said it’d just have to be your lucky day,” Snotlout scoots further into the booth to make room for Ruffnut to plop next to him.  “We haven’t ordered yet, Gruff is taking forever.”  

“Sounds like him,” Ruffnut scoffs.

Astrid hesitates a second before sitting down, but when she does she turns towards him halfway, her knee bumping his, “for the record, I was not in on this setup.”  

“I couldn’t tell from the way you were enthusiastically kicking and screaming to get away from Ruffnut.” Hiccup tries to let himself smile, shoving Snotlout’s advice far to the back of his mind.  They were doing fine, he was doing fine.  She likes him.  

Or liked.  Maybe he messed that up.  

No, not the time to think about that.  He’s never been good at playing dumb but he’s getting enough practice lately that maybe he’s due for some forward strides.  

“That’s why I made sure to verbally confirm,” she scoots a little closer when someone walking by jostles her shoulder and her leg is warm against his, “not in on the plan.  I was personally waiting for frozen yogurt.”  

“Shit, I meant to text you to reschedule that,” Hiccup scratches the back of his neck, “I’ve just—”

“Been busy,” she flushes slightly, “I could see that yesterday.”  

Yesterday, at the Ripped Tavern, where she was telling Ruffnut all about how he rejected her.  That yesterday.  Of course.  

“Tours are booming,” he laughs, gesturing in the vague direction of the second murder site and trying not to think of the fact he gets more and more nervous every time he approaches it. “But that shouldn’t get in the way of getting some vaguely sour and crappy excuse for ice cream with you.”  

“Where the hell is Gruff?” Snotlout huffs.  

“I’ll go look for him,” Ruffnut stands up, “he’s probably smoking out back or something else useless.”  

“Do you want me to come with you?” Astrid offers but Snotlout stands up first.  

“I’ve got it, you two just…talk,” he looks significantly at Hiccup like the exact opposite of an anxious father chaperoning prom before following Ruffnut towards the back door.  

“Subtle,” Hiccup grumbles, wishing he had something to do with his hands as Astrid fidgets, biting her lip in the growing awkward silence.  

“I’ve been thinking,” she says in a low voice, a cautious voice, and Hiccup nods, waiting for the bomb to drop. “That note you showed me, there’s something—”

“Wait, you mean…” He leans in a little closer, dropping his voice, “you’re talking about the um…murder foot note, right?”  

“The ‘all right’ at the beginning, I think it’s about D—the second victim,” she tries to stay neutral, but her voice wavers and Hiccup sets an arm over her shoulders, comfortable like it’s more than just the start of a habit, “he was missing his left leg, right? Like you?”  

She brings his foot up casually, curious but not in the way that makes him cringe and he nods slowly.  

“Yeah, that’s why I could give him my old one.”  

“That’s why it’s misspelled, or it’s not misspelled, it’s a description.  Which makes me wonder if a hint about the next victim is in the message,” she’s not excited at the prospect, it’s quieter than that, like she knows she’s brilliant and is hoping he’ll keep up with her.  “What do you think?”  

“I think that I can’t believe you want to talk about that morbid note with me.”  He doesn’t have anything smarter to say as his hand curls easily around her upper arm.  

“Well, I don’t know who else I’d talk about it with,” she backhands him on the stomach, obviously meaning to be gentle but thudding hard anyway, “plus, I told you, I like talking about…this stuff with you.”  

She avoids Grimborn because it isn’t, it’s modern and ongoing and in the way of all the ways he wants to appreciate her right now.  

“You’re…impossible,” he shakes his head, exhaling carefully like too much breeze could blur the lines of her improbable perfection.  

“Impossible,” she doesn’t quite ask and her expression falls, her back going rigid against his arm.  “You probably don’t want to talk about it.”  

“No, no, I—the good kind of impossible,” he nods, sincere, “I’m just not used to anyone taking an interest in this kind of thing, I guess, especially not after I was such a spaz the other night.”  

“You didn’t really give me a choice not to take an interest,” she softens slightly, “you’re pretty convincing when you put your mind to it.”  

“Convincing, huh?”  He laughs, “Snotlout’s word for it is usually creepy.  Or obsessive or annoying, depends on the day.”  

“Those too,” she teases, elbow against his side, “any luck?”  

“Hmm?”  He doesn’t realize he’s leaning closer until his nose is almost against her cheek and she’s clearly talking to Snotlout and Ruffnut, who are standing at the edge of the table.

“No sign of him,” Ruffnut shrugs, “you guys want to go somewhere else?”  

“With you two?”  Astrid raises an eyebrow and Hiccup still struggles to fathom the idea that she might want to be alone with him.  Again.  Even if it’s to look at the note more, that’s…amazing.  

No, impossible.  He used the right word to begin with.  

“Sure,” Snotlout points at the door, “let’s leave though, if I’m here any longer I’m going to have to start telling people that taking bottles over the bar is stealing, and I don’t want to help Gruff out like that.”  

“How long do you have before your tour?”  Astrid asks as she climbs out of the booth and Hiccup’s heart drops when he checks the time.  

“An hour.”  

“That’s enough time for frozen yogurt,” her nose wrinkles when she squints at the too bright street light when she follows Ruffnut outside and down the sidewalk.  “And we could talk…”  The note is implied and Hiccup shrugs too hard, nodding at the same time and enthusiastically risking the muscles in his neck because of it.  

“Yeah, sure, that’s—cool.”  

“Looks like you guys are planning something mushy,” Snotlout says pointedly, reminding Hiccup of his excellent advice at absolutely the wrong time. “We’ll just go back to the apartment.”

Ruffnut seems to agree to that, grinning and whispering something Hiccup doesn’t try to hear into Snotlout’s ear. He laughs and the sound echoes, the density of the alleys carrying it between old bricks like a secret, low tech game of telephone that turns happy sounds to groans that haunt empty corners.

“There’s a shortcut up ahead,” Hiccup gestures at the sign-less gate just ahead, remembering her moonlit suspicious face when she decided to trust him for the first time.  “You might recognize it.”  

“Recognize what?”  Ruffnut turns back to tell Astrid something and pauses, staring down the alley, her mouth slowly falling open.  

“What is it?”  Astrid asks, looking the same direction with a squint that gives way to wide eyes as she grabs Hiccup’s arm, grip tight like she’s holding herself up on him.  

It takes Hiccup a second to recognize what he sees.  A second more than it should, given that the sight should be triply familiar by now, not counting the photographs etched in his memory.  

Behind the condo, right where Catherine Whittaker’s body was found on a cold morning in eighteen eighty-three, there’s a mostly shadowed shape.  It’s a sprawling, nebulous shape, parts of it struggling to escape its gravitational field, strewn across the alley floor like satellite debris from a hundred failed launches.  

At the edge of it, the circle of the streetlight catches a handful of blonde dreadlocks, stained with red.  

“No!”  Ruffnut wails, tears flash flooding her cheeks as she launches herself at the gate.  “No! No, no, no!”  

“Shit,” Snotlout catches her, barely, struggling once again to keep his grip through her flailing, this time sobbing instead of yelling.  “Another fucking—who’s calling it in?”  

“I’ve got it,” Astrid says in a small voice, muttering under her breath as she dials three digits.  “It has to be Gruffnut, it has to be Gruffnut.”

[jessiejunebug]

The Younger Sister - Part 11

Sorry, this has taken me a bit longer than I wanted. But I went to Chicago this past weekend and met Tom and Chris Evans and it was so amazing. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 

MASTERLIST

Chapter 11 - The Bad News

Astrid clutched Thor, holding onto him with everything she had. If she didn't, she would fall to the ground, as he was the only thing that kept her knees from buckling. With eyes still full of tears, she glanced at her mother's body, the one that Odin was cradling in his arms. Odin looked up at Astrid and when their eyes met, she saw that his eyes were red and puffy.

"What was she thinking?" Odin asked quietly, his voice hoarse.

Astrid shook her head, a few tears dropping off her chin and onto the floor. "I don't know….", she muttered pathetically, looking away from the scene.

"Then find out!" Odin shouted suddenly, his pain turning to rage. Rage that he was directing at her.

Astrid’s eyes widened and her mouth gaped in shock. Her shocked eyes met his, and she realized that she barely recognized the man in front of her. He was asking her to see what her mother was thinking when she died? She had done it to strangers, but never anyone she was close to. Never anyone she knew. She didn't think she would ever need to. Certainly not this soon.

Thor’s grip tightened around her and he pulled her back gently, farther into his chest. "You really want to put her through that?" Thor asked softly, trying to placate the grieving man.

Astrid saw the rage swirling in her father's eyes. "It is what she is good for!” Odin shouted, making Astrid freeze completely. “If she does not do this, then what good is she?" Odin demanded. She felt Thor tense up behind her, his grip never faltering on her. Astrid felt a sharp pain inside her chest. In her heart. It felt as if it was shattered. More so than it already was.

Astrid pulled herself out of Thor’s grip and headed towards her father, who was still cradling their mother in his arms. Thor grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. "Astrid, you do not need to do this!"

"Yes, I do. Father is right. If I can't do this, then what good am I?" she replied evenly, pulling her arm out of Thor’s grasp.

She walked slowly to her mother's cold corpse and kneeled down beside her. Her unmoving body unnerved Astrid and she was afraid to touch her. She wanted to pretend that her mother was only sleeping, but the pool of blood that she had to walk around, was proof that she wasn’t. She hesitantly reached out and grabbed her mother's cold hand, a shiver going down her spine at its touch. She held it between both of her hands, as if she could somehow use her own warmth to warm her mother's. She closed her eyes, and let her mother's last thoughts seep into her brain.

She saw the dark elf.

"Who are you?" her mother asked the elf.

"I am Malekith." It replied with a smile, and she felt her mother's surprise.

She saw her mother fight Malekith, and a ghost of a smile crossed her lips at her mother’s bravery. She watched as she put her sword against Malekith’s throat, but then the beast from the prison came and from behind. Astrid watched as she spoke her last words. She watched the sword plunge into her mother for a second time. Astrid almost dropped her hand, but didn't want to break the connection she had with her mother. The last connection she would ever have with her.

My Children… Frigga's voice seeped into her mind. I hope they are alright…. Astrid let out a soft gasp as her mother’s voice filled her mind. Her final thoughts.

Astrid…

Astrid jumped in surprise when her mother spoke her name.

I know you will hear this. Please tell Odin and Thor that I love them so much. More than they will ever know.

Astrid felt a tear slip out onto her cheek, rolling down her face.

Please tell Loki that I am proud of him, and that he will always be my son. No matter what he says or believes. I hope he will one day think of me as his mother.

Astrid knew he already did think of her as his mother. He never stopped. Regardless of the news that he was adopted, Frigga never once saw him as anything other than her son.

And Astrid. My dear Astrid. I love you so much. I'm glad that even after I die, you will hear my voice one last time. I'm sorry that I could not say my goodbyes in person. I'm glad it was you who heard my final words.

Astrid let out a small sob and she felt a heavy hand placed comfortingly on her shoulder. Thor.

I don't have much time left. I feel my heart slowing. Please make sure no one blames themselves. It was no one’s fault. And don't grieve for long. I will be watching you all. Always. I will always be with you. All of you.

Her voice became fainter.

I love you all… Goodbye my loves…

Her voice faded away completely.

A louder sob bubbled out of Astrid and she dropped her mother's hand completely, severing the connection. She covered her face with her hands and her body heaved with sobs. She heard her mother die. It was the worst thing she had ever experienced. It was times like this when she believed her powers were more of a curse than a gift. Thor rubbed soothing circles into her back as she cried.

"What did she say?!" Odin demanded after a moment.

"Father!" Thor exclaimed. "She just listened to mother die! Give her a moment! Can’t you see how much pain she’s in?!”

Odin replied back almost instantly. "She was my wife and I will never hear her voice again! At least she could hear her one more time!”

Astrid uncovered her tear-stained face and looked at Thor and Odin. "She loved you both very much. More than you will ever know. Don't blame yourselves. And don't grieve for long. She will be watching us. Always." Astrid reported, in a small voice.

Odin was silent for a moment, contemplating her words. "Did she mention Loki?" Astrid nodded.

"What did she say?" Odin asked when Astrid did not say anything.

"That is something for Loki, and Loki alone. No one else needs to know." She said quietly, remembering what Frigga said. She had to deliver him her message. Loki had to know what she said.

"I am the King! I have a right to know!" He shouted at Astrid.

Astrid didn't even flinch at his fury. "No, you don't. Not this time."

Odin's eyes widened. He was not used to someone disobeying him. Thor grabbed her arm, and pulled her back gently, away from Odin's fury. She could see her father’s rage, and knew that this conversation was far from over. Thor led the way out of the room.

Everyone eventually gathered in the Throne Room, though it was dead silent. No one knew what to say. There was nothing to say. Finally, she spoke up. "I'll go tell Loki." That seemed to snap everyone out of their daze.

"No!" Thor and Odin shouted at once.

Astrid crossed her arms. "Well I know for a fact that neither of you will deliver the news."

"I will send a soldier. He can deliver the news." Odin said quickly, already turning towards a guard nearby.

"No! He will not learn that his mother is dead from a stranger. I will not allow it. I will tell him myself." Astrid said with a tone that challenged anyone to defy her. Odin looked at her as if seeing her for the first time in a long time. "You always were like your mother,” he whispered softly. “She would never give up once she made a decision about something," he looked down at the ground, before sighing quietly in defeat. "If you are not back in twenty minutes, I will send someone after you." He said.

Astrid bowed her head. "Thank you, father." She tried not to spit out her words, anger still plastered across her face. Astrid turned and walked away numbly.

When she reached the prison, the prisoners that survived were back in their cells. She walked past them, not even giving them a second glance as some called out to her. A stray tear dripped out of her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She had to steel herself to see Loki again.

Finally, she came to Loki's cell at the end of the row. She stopped in front of it and looked inside. Loki was sitting on the floor, reading a book that Frigga had brought him. Astrid closed her eyes briefly, knowing this would not be easy.

He looked up at her, eyes narrowing as he saw who it was. Loki closed his book and set it aside.

"Did you finally come to see me?” he taunted. “Were you worried about me?” he questioned as he stood up and approached the barrier between them. “Oh, of course not. You wanted to make sure I was still here! That I hadn’t escaped!" He shouted angrily.

"Loki, please don't do this. Not now…" His words caused her to visibly crumble, and caused more tears to slip down her face. After all she had been through, she could not handle his words as well as her father's. Her head dropped forward, as she tried to shield her face from Loki. He paused and stared at her, taking in her ragged appearance and tear-stained face.

A small sob escaped from her throat, and she felt her knees shaking with the weight of keeping her body upright. It was all becoming too much. It felt like the weight of their harsh words and her mother’s death were beginning to crush her. She felt like she could suffocate at any moment.

"Astrid? What happened?" Loki asked in a softer voice, more tentative. He was afraid that if spoke too loudly, he would break her. Maybe he could.

"It's about Mother…." Astrid choked out, looking back up at him. She saw his entire body stiffen and he sucked in a breath.

"During the attack… She was…." She stopped, to collect herself, trying to force the tears away so she could speak, but it seemed that he already knew what she was going to say. His face was grave.

"She was killed." Astrid managed to say before the grief consumed her again and she started sobbing quietly, knees finally crumpling, allowing her to slip to the floor in front of Loki’s cell. Loki just stared at her, his shock clearly evident.

He turned away from her and she saw a large surge of power leave his body and throw everything in the room away from him, into the barrier and walls around him. Tables shattered. Food was scattered across the room.

"Who?" She heard him ask hoarsely, his back still turned towards her, but she saw his head hanging.

Her mother’s memories flashed before her eyes. "Malekith. Leader of the Dark Elves."

Loki spun around to look at her. "But they are dead! Those were stories that Mother…" He paused on the word, raw pain flashing over his entire face, "would tell us as children."

"Yes, well, Malekith did not die like we believed. The Aether was never destroyed. It is inside Jane." She realized that she forgot to tell him that Jane was here, on Asgard.

"Oh, so Thor's lover is now on Asgard with a powerful weapon inside of her. That's just great!" He spit out, throwing his hands up into the air.

"Loki, don't be like that." Astrid scolded quietly, wiping the tears away, though her mother’s words still ran through her mind, causing fresh tears to fall.

Loki stopped and studied her for a moment. "Something else happened,” he said softly. Loki always knew her. She couldn’t hide anything from him.

"Odin forced me to see in her final thoughts.” Loki stiffened, eyes flashing with anger. "I saw her die. I listened to her last thoughts. It was terrible, Loki" She gasped quietly, holding in her sobs. "She knew I would listen. She wanted me to tell you something…." Loki paused, listening intently. "She said that she was always proud of you. She always had been. She said that no matter what, you will always be her son. She hoped one day you would think of her as your mother," Astrid stopped and looked up at Loki, noticing the way his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"She has always been a mother to me…." Astrid heard him whisper quietly, before he turned away, hiding his face from her. "Thank you, Astrid. For telling me…"

Astrid looked down at her hands that were clenched together. "You didn't deserve to have a stranger tell you." He turned around to look at her, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you." Astrid knew he meant it.

He looked down, before asking. "Can I come to the ceremony?" Astrid almost forgot about the ceremony that would take place across Asgard as they mourned their queen. She hesitated. "I do not know. Father will probably not allow it, but maybe if you make a copy of yourself, then you could come." Loki nodded slowly.

"I will come to you when it is time." Astrid said. “I won’t allow father to keep you away. She was your mother just as much as mine and Thor’s.” She wiped away another stray tear, before giving him a faint smile, and turning away.

"I'd like a word with father." He called out after her. She stopped and turned to look at him, before nodding, "I'll let him know." He nodded and turned back towards his trashed cell.

Astrid made her way back to the Throne Room. When she pushed the doors open, she saw Thor was holding Jane close. Odin seemed to have been pacing the floor. They all looked relieved when she returned.

"Loki would like to speak with you father." She reported.

Odin nodded curtly, and waved his hand in front of himself. A hologram of Loki appeared. It faded in and out, before filling in, appearing as if Loki was really standing in front of them. Their way of communicating with him without actually being down in the prisons. The hologram looked up and when he saw Odin, his eyes narrowed.

"You wanted to speak with me." Odin said, face void of any emotion.

"How dare you force Astrid to do that!" Loki shouted suddenly. Astrid gasped with surprise. Odin too was at a loss of words.  "You almost broke her! Do you even understand how hard that was on her? She just lost her and you made her go through that all over again for your selfish needs!" Astrid was surprised with the intensity of his gaze and the anger in his voice.

Odin finally recovered enough to respond. "I am King. You cannot question me and my decisions.” Odin’s voice boomed.

Loki let out a harsh laugh. "I can when it comes to my sister." Astrid's eyes widened. That was the first time in ages that he called her his sister. Odin and Thor were both surprised at Loki’s statement. Loki glared at Odin before speaking again. "I will be attending the ceremony.”

Odin snorted. "Absolutely not."

Loki let out a hollow chuckle. “It will be a double. I know you won’t ever let me out of this cell. I will still be in here, withering away. No need to worry,” Loki spit.

“No.” Odin reaffirmed.

"He has a right!" Astrid exclaimed. "He is her son too. He deserves to be there."

Odin glared at her. "He is not her son." He spit out vehemently.

Astrid took a step forward, meeting her father’s gaze. "Actually, he is. According to her, he has always been her son. She told me. When you forced me to hear her final thoughts, that’s what she told me." Astrid said with so much venom it surprised her.

The room went silent. Thor, Jane, and Loki all watched with surprise at her outburst. She saw the rage in her father's eyes.

"I will let him know when it is, and he will be there with us. It’s what she would have wanted." Astrid said with finality before turning and walking away, without being dismissed. She was tired of her father pushing her around. It felt good to do something else for a change.

Tags: @jackheart180, @nagaindcsiar, @fairlightswiftly, @marvelandhpfan 

[astridthevalkyrie]

Here Comes the Groom: Chapter 1

Hiccup has ten days to convince Astrid to marry him, or both of them could meet a fate worse than death. The good thing is that he has all of Berk by his side, ready to help. The bad things is, Astrid hasn’t been friendly with him for over a year and very much hates him.

Prologue

Day 1

“No.”

Hiccup shook his head, trying to force himself to go back to sleep. It didn’t even matter that he was standing on a hard, wooden floor, or that there was a mead bottle in his hand, or that his cheek was already bruised and it might rip if it was met with such hard contact. Right now, he had a raging headache, and this was not something he wanted to see.

But then again, who really ever did want to see a sight like this? His mother, Gobber, Eret, Snotlout, the twins, and Fishlegs, all standing in his house, looking as though they were ready to give him a therapy session. Or worse, help him seduce his bride to be.

Because Astrid would so obviously be wooed by whatever romantic gesture Tuffnut Thorston had thought up.

Valka tsked. “You won’t get anywhere with that attitude, son. And have you been drinking?” Ignoring his scowl, she pried the bottle from his hands. Hiccup groaned and sank into a chair as Fishlegs pat his back sympathetically. It was too early for this.

“Hiccup, we just wanna help so that you don’t die. No big deal, right?” Fishlegs looked eager. “I mean, it is a wedding.” He squealed. “Oh, I’ve wanted to plan your wedding since forever!”

Hiccup shot a glare at Gobber. “Did you tell everyone in the village? Astrid can’t find out, you know, it’s -”

“I know. Only the people in this room know,” he said confidently, holding out a hand to reassure him. Valka drained the mead outside the window and Hiccup whined lightly, at which his mother shot him a disapproving look.

Hiccup stood up and stomped his foot. “The people in this room are…” He did a quick headcount, looking around. “Seven people too many.”

“Including me?” Eret asked dryly, raising his hand as he leaned against the wall.

“Why are you even here?” Hiccup asked, raising an eye. “I mean, no offense, but you haven’t showed that much interest in my relationship with Astrid before.”

Eret shrugged. “To be fair, I haven’t shown much interest in any -” He paused as he saw Ruffnut’s smirk. “No, stop it, we do not have a relationship.”

“As you wish, my yak chop,” Ruffnut said in a sing song voice, winking at Hiccup, who scowled even more. Seeing people flirting in his house, while he was clearly hungover thinking about his ex girlfriend who had punched him the day before, was not helping.

Eret sighed. “But Astrid is my friend. As are you, chief. I can do a small thing for my friends.”

“What small thing?” Hiccup asked, raising an eye. When everyone in the room simultaneously looked away, he cried out urgently, “What small thing are you talking about?”

Being a chief sucked. There was so much responsibility, and the ones who were close to you didn’t even see a reason to listen to you.

His mother soothingly rubbed his back. “We’re going to help you woo, Astrid. One day at a time.”

“Oh. Oh great,” he scoffed, “I’m dead. It was nice knowing you all!” he shouted, waving his arms.

Snotlout crossed his arms. “Hey, what makes you think we can’t help?”

Hiccup stared his cousin dead in the eye. “I really don’t want dating tips from a guy who hasn’t been on a date in his whole life, another guy who’s only dated one Berserk dragon rider, a guy who thinks shoving fish in someone’s face counts as romance” - Tuff made to interrupt but Hiccup went on - “his twin sister who either hates guys with a passion or is ready to jump them if possible, a dragon trapper who’s lived with men most his life, a blacksmith that isn’t even into girls, and…” He took a deep breath, before raising his voice. “A lady who’s lived with dragons for twenty years!”

Valka frowned. “Well, with that tone, no one’s going to date you.”

Hiccup didn’t answer. He sat down and buried his face in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eret roll his eyes at the chief’s dramatic actions.

“Well, then,” Gobber said awkwardly, “today’s my turn. Are you ready?”

“Ready to jump off a cliff.”

“That’s the spirit, son,” Valka said as encouragingly as she could, looking at Gobber with a worried expression.

Astrid wasn’t in the arena this time. That only left the entire island to search, no big deal. Gobber’s plan repeated itself in his head, and Hiccup cringed. Oh, a bruised cheek was only the start of his pains.

Hiccup asked her mother, who, albeit very confusedly, told him that Astrid was on guard duty.

Oh. Right. Berk guard. He flew around the village, finally finding her leaning against the mountainside she was standing on. Without being too loud, he got off Toothless, offering him a fish, which he happily accepted.

Hiccup took a deep breath. “Astrid?”

She turned her head to look at him, and a scowl appeared on her face immediately. “Again? What is it this time, you wanna elope?”

“No,” he sighed, standing next to her when he was sure it was safe, “but…I meant what I said. I really do miss you.”

“So much that you wanted to marry me right then and there?” Astrid asked, looking irritated that he was even breathing the same air as her.

He offered her a weak smile. “Joke.”

“I don’t like jokes,” she snapped, finally actually looking him in the eye. Her stance showed that she was ready to fight. Her hair was out of place a bit, and there were bags under her eyes. Hiccup furrowed his brows in concern.

“Didn’t you sleep last night?”

“What are you trying to do, Hiccup?” Astrid said, frustrated. “Did you think that if you gave me time to - to heal and all that bullshit, we’d go back to the way we were?”

“I was just asking!” Hiccup snapped, his anger with her getting the best of him. “Excuse me for being worried!”

Astrid was always difficult. Maybe it was a good thing they had broken up after all. Their personalities were like Toothless’s two tailfins. Completely different. Just useful in different ways.

“I don’t need you to be worried!” she cried, standing up straight. “I can take care of my own damn self, Hiccup! Is - is that what this is? An inquiry about my health?” She gaped at him. “Did my mother put you up to this?”

He took a deep breath. “No. Astrid, I -”

“I hate you,” she snarled, clenching her fists and opening them again, “go to Hel, Hiccup. Leave me alone.”

“I don’t want to date you!” Hiccup shouted back, and then took a deep breath. That was both a lie and it wasn’t. He really didn’t wanna date her. But with his predicament, he had better want to or else he would die. ”All I wanted was to be friends again!”

Astrid stepped forward, and he stepped back, a nasty drop right behind him. “I’m not the one who broke our friendship, chief!” She spat the title out venomously, and that served to make him angrier, because it only reminded him of what she had done.

“Yes you did!” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his metal leg slipping for a brief second but ignoring it in his agitation. “You’re the one who -”

Before he could finish, he saw Astrid’s ears turn red as she screamed, stepping even closer, “That was an accident and you know it!”

It was one step to close. In his haste to get back, Hiccup slipped off the edge. He saw Astrid’s look of terror, and he closed his eyes as Toothless’s roar echoed in his ear.

But he didn’t even fall properly when a hand curled around his and Astrid’s gasp of breath echoed loudly around the walls. He looked up to see her clenching his hand tightly, her entire face now red as she hauled him up. Relief swept his body so hard he nearly passed out.

They both sat, then, panting. Hiccup leaned against the wall and Astrid looked down at where he would have fallen. She looked terrified, backing away as quickly as he had fallen. Toothless came up to Hiccup, and licked his face eagerly.

“Thanks,” Hiccup said quietly, when they both had calmed down a bit.

Astrid stood up, leaning against the wall like she had been when he found her. “Whatever.”

Time to put Gobber’s plan into action. Biting back his pride, Hiccup asked, “Would you like to go with me to an island tomorrow?”

Her head snapped up, but before she could speak, Hiccup held up his hands in surrender. “Not as a date. Like, as an…acquaintance. I haven’t been to this one yet, it’s too big, I’ve just scoured over it. I - I may need some human protection.” He scratched under Toothless’ chin before the dragon could protest. “And I think you’ve proved a lot of times that you can take care of both of us. This time being the most recent.”

A deep breath.

“I miss you, Astrid.”

This speech was rehearsed, and he felt bad for it. Because it didn’t matter how much they hated each other, it just wasn’t right to not be sincere unless you were dealing with…a killer. The irony of that struck him oddly. Astrid wasn’t a killer, he had to remind himself.

“Alright,” Astrid answered quietly, breaking his train of thought. Hiccup smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. Instead, she started walking down the mountain.

It was strange not to see her fly. He supposed he’d have to get used to it.

“AHEM, WHY DID THEY BREAK UP?” is the summary of reviews I got for the last chapter on Fanfiction.net. I wonder how this one will be…

Originally, it was gonna be Astrid who fell, but I’ve had a lot of Damselstrid in my life *cough* Race to the Edge *cough*