#i think astrid would be torn about it if she helped raise them. she clearly cares about family

[cozyships]

So... dark brotherhood Noh...

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Keep Your Eyes On Me Part 7

Wow ok, so I am totally adding in some Star Wars because no one can stop me. Muwahaha. Big thank you to @waiting4inspiration for hosting this 2k writing challenge. This is so much fun. I only have a few more parts to this though. Sadness. But it does have a happy-ish ending. 

So in case you missed it here’s Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 and Part seven is below! Enjoy. 

Part 7

The next morning you woke up alone which was odd, Ivar liked to sleep in and cuddle with you when he spent his nights with you. Just as you were getting dressed two of Ivar’s guards came and informed you that you were summoned to the Great Hall and you were instantly on edge. Had Ivar lied and mislead you? Were you in trouble? You got dressed and armed yourself to the teeth just in case and cloaked your weapons and went with them. 

“My King?” You asked when you were brought into the great hall. 

“Astrid, your sisters have come to bring you home.” Ivar said and gestured to two women standing behind you. Your contacts revealed it was Riley and Alexandria, looking like they were from Constantinople. 

“Our mother is ill, come, bring your son so you can come and say your goodbyes to her before she dies.” Alex offered with their outstretched arms towards you before you looked to Ivar to see what his answer was but his face was unreadable but Freydis was clutching Dyre to her chest as she sat on the queen’s throne. Her expression and demeanor was much easier to read, she was threatened and anxious. 

“May I go embrace my sisters?” You asked which got him to nod in agreement before you went and hugged them. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You whispered, making sure your translator didn’t translate your words. 

“Our operators overhead that you’re in a cat 4, we need to get you out.” They whispered back. 

“That was weeks ago for me, I have the situation under control and you’re blowing my cover, the whole ‘release your dragon’ messages? Do you have any idea the lies I had to spin to explain that? Look I have an out, it’s coming up in just a few months, I’ll make it. Trust me.” You implored. 

“More like seven months and you’re already almost two months along.” Riley argued. 

“The out may not come in time, do you really want to risk childbirth in this time period?” Alex asked. 

“Well then come and help me labor then, I don’t trust Ivar to let you stay until then though. He’s paranoid and suspicious and I am not above that yet and right now he thinks I’m pregnant with his child and I need him to continue to believe that to draw attention away from my target, my target is so close to his objective I can taste it. Be patient and have faith in me.” You pleaded as you cupped their cheeks in your hands and gave them emploring looks before you turned to face Ivar. 

“My mother is indeed sick, but she will perish before I have the chance to see her again. Since I’m with child again, the journey is too much for me to take.” You announced. 

“Nonsense, you should go. I cannot risk you growing resentful of me for keeping you away from saying goodbye to your mother. You are free to go.” Ivar answered as you looked at him in shock but his mind was closed off from you maybe he was becoming aware of the neural link? 

“I promise to not grow resentful towards you. It is my earnest wish to stay here.” You answered because you sensed something was off. 

“My dearest second wife, you are free. Do not think you have to stay to protect Dyre or Bjorn, I will keep my promise of never going after Bjorn. Even if you were to choose to never return to Kettegat. Freydis, give her- her son back. Go Astrid, be free.” Ivar insisted as Freydis looked at Ivar like he had just gutted her but obeyed as she stood up and walked Dyre over to you, both of you starting to cry as you took Dyre back and looked from Freydis to Ivar as Riley looked to Alex, both of them shocked. 

“Forgive us King Ivar, for assuming that you had Astrid as a slave. It was wrong of us to assume such a thing, we apologize for our assumption and we are willing to pay recompense for stirring up trouble.” They offered as they both took a knee and bowed respectfully. 

“Of course, pay whatever you feel is fair.” Ivar agreed as you looked from them to Ivar. This felt too much like you were being sold and it left a bad taste in your mouth. 

“Ivar, if I am truly free, then let me be free to choose to stay.” You asked as you too knelt in front of him, halfway between Alex and Riley and him. 

“You’ve been away from your true home, Neveah for far too long.” Ivar answered as you lifted your head to look at him. Did he really just say that out loud?  

“Wait, what did you say?” Riley asked as she found her feet in an instant and stared at Ivar in outrage as you grimaced and gave him an unimpressed look before you realized, this had to be a trap. He was testing you and your loyalty to him whether or not you’d leave him given the opportunity, you didn’t trust him to keep his word as far as Bjorn was concerned. 

“Zara has told me of Neveah yes.” Ivar confirmed as Alex stood up and looked worriedly from Ivar to Riley who was already getting riled up. 

“Wait, you broke rule number one by telling him your real name? And you broke rule number two by telling him about Neveah too?” Riley demanded angrily. 

“You’re the one who sent him messages calling me a dragon, how could I explain that?” You defended yourself. 

“Tell him anything but that! Say you’re from Atlantis, Neverland, Amazon, anywhere but Neveah!” Alex argued. 

“No, I’m done lying. I’ve made my choice, now go.” You urged. 

“Really? You’re done lying? Why don’t you…” Riley started to spit venomously before you reached out and choked her with the force and raised her a good foot off the ground. 

“I said leave, now either leave in peace now or leave in pieces!” You snarled angrily before you dropped her on the ground. 

“Oh no, you’ve broken the rules, you know the penalty of those, now leave with us now to face justice or come in pieces!” Riley snarled, throwing your words right back at you as she drew her dragon sword and pointed it at you as she gained a fighting stance. 

“You dare act as my judge jury and executioner?” You asked defiantly as Alexandria was clearly torn herself about what to do, not really wanting to get into a fight with you. You were one of the best Neveah had. Even with these odds, it was a fair fight. 

“Freydis, take our son. Go to the house and barricade yourself inside the innermost room. Guards, let no one take our son from her except his father Ivar or myself. Go, protect your Queen.” You ordered as you hit Dyre’s dragon scale necklace and it immediately formed a cocoon around him and Freydis took him back and bolted with her thralls and guards running after her and forming a barricade around her. “Ivar, no one is to intervene. Not even you.” You ordered before you turned yourself around and dropped your cloak to your feet and hit your own armor on your chest as everyone watched as the leather formed first before the scales grew on top of that, your own helmet coming over your face before Alexandria just shook her head. 

“This is Alpha One, reporting Zara going rogue.” Alex reported before she too took her own swords out and hit the lightning feature so that the blades glowed that unearthly blue and looked identical to lightsabers which prompted you to hit the button on your own sword which became a two ended one as Riley’s did the same, her own armor coming out and looking emerald green while Alex’s was sapphire blue.  

“Last chance to remain a dragon rather than a common horse!” Riley roared. 

“Better to be a horse charging into battle with integrity than a dishonorable dragon hiding behind it’s own claws!” You spat before you engaged the other end of your own saber, both ends glowing in a beautiful turquoise. 

“The peacock reveals her feathers.” Riley sneered before they both charged. Ivar at the edge of his seat as he watched you battle, all three of you bending the laws of physics and defying gravity by running on the walls and the ceiling and fighting in midair before you destroyed Riley’s sword and in retaliation Riley transformed herself into a dragon but you could not shift yourself because you were pregnant and you didn’t know if the baby would permanently shift itself but you used your small size to your advantage to dodge and dive between them to keep yourself from getting hurt as Alex shifted into one too as you wrapped Riley around Alex because their dragons were like snakes in the size that would fit in the Great Hall and you ran up and down their bodies, doing your best to land some hits but even your light saber could do little against them, their own scales shedding rather than their skin getting cut. 

But Riley, while young and inexperienced, was strong, quick and agile while Alex was older and more experienced but slower but her hits were harder and what felt like an eternity of fighting, finally landed a hit on you in your side, dragon scales going everywhere while her taloned claws cut through your dragon leather hide to your flesh and you fell to the floor, the force of your fall knocking the wind out of you for a moment but you had to yell at Ivar and his men to get back as you scrambled backwards and threw every remaining weapon you had at Riley and Alex, who advanced on you as your blood spilled onto the wood floors. 

“Now, yield!” Riley demanded as she beared down on you as her dragon form stalked closer to you until it was above you placed her large claw on top of you to pin you to the floor so that you couldn’t escape. 

“Yield or I’ll shoot Ivar.” Alex threatened as she transformed back into herself and trained her bow on Ivar on his throne and if looks could kill, she’d be dead already. But she was carrying a dragon toothed tipped arrows dipped in dragon venom, there was no way to save him or yourself. You only had one choice left. 

“No!” You tried to reach out to her but Riley pinned you down harder, breaking the floorboards under her weight, keeping the hollow of her paw over your belly so that she didn’t actually press on the baby but it still looked like she was crushing you as her claws dug into the wood as she reared her other hand back so as to decapitate you with her other claws before you craned your head backwards to look up at Ivar and look at him apologetically. 

“Don’t kill him.” You whimpered as you screwed your eyes shut, fat tears escaping your eyes and let out a sob. 

“I’ll leave, if you promise not to hurt him or his family.” You caved. 

“She loves him more than she loves Neveah, kill him.” Riley ordered Alex who drew her bow back further to nail Ivar to the wall behind him. 

“Noo!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you tried to reach out to stop her with the force but your hold was too weak after fighting like this and Alex had already let the arrow loose and it was like it was in slow motion as you watched the arrow leave Alex’s bow before there was a flash of blue light and Sephira herself, in all of her glowing blue and ethereal glory stood in front of Ivar and caught the arrow only a foot away from Ivar’s face. 

“Sephira,” Alex gasped in horror before she immediately took a knee and placed her bow on the ground and bowed low in respect. 

“Sephira!” Riley quaked as she instantly transformed back into herself and scrambled backwards to get off of you as she took the same stance Alex did which left you coughing and sputtering as you rolled over to your side and curled into yourself and continued to cry as you clutched your belly and your side as you continued to bleed before Sephira came over to you and helped you sit up before she used the lumens in her hands to heal your wounds and check to make sure the pregnancy was unharmed before she made sure to stabilize it and pressed her forehead to yours and shared a breath, gaining access to your mind and your thinking and the situation from your perspective, the breath she shared with you, revigorating you before she helped you to your feet before you too knelt down in respect for her as you, Riley and Alex shared a meaningful look as she repaired the damage done to the great hall so that it was like new.  

“My apologies King Ivar. It seems my daughters have forgotten their manners and our rules. Please accept my apologies on their behalf, it will never happen again because their wings will get clipped.” Sephira said as she lifted both Alex and Riley and used her magic to rip from them the shapeshifter serum which looked like an angel getting its wings dissolved as she took her weapons back too before she reabsorbed the serum and dropped both of them on the ground before they prostrated themselves in front of her and thanked her for her discipline before she lifted their weapons and brought them to herself and put them away into her magical vault. 

“Back home with you to await my further judgement.” Sephira ordered as they jumped back to their time, the effect looking like they were being transported. 

“Now, Zara. Please accept my formal apologies for your sisters revealing your true self. But since you are choosing this life over Neveah, I’m afraid I must take back your wings so that you can never come back and I must take back your knowledge of how to get there.” Sephira sadly informed you as you let your wings expand before she took them back before she touched your mind with her pointer finger, a bright light shining before she withdrew her hand and took your weapons and your armor. “It was an honor to know you Zara, hopefully here you’ll find what you’ve been looking for all this time.” Sephira offered before she looked at Ivar. 

“She is a daughter of Neveah no more. Now she is simply a daughter of Constantinople once again. Be kind to her and may peace and success be with you. Be warned, should you try to find Neveah, you and all those looking for it will perish before you reach our horizon.” Sephira said before she jumped back and in her place was a huge pile of gold and treasures. 

“My weight in gold, payment for the disturbance.” You announced as you found your feet and looked at the tear in your dress to Ivar who finally found his feet and adjourned court in the Great Hall as he came to hug you and kiss you all over. 

“Why did you stay here you stupid woman?” Ivar whispered, himself near tears because he was sure that he was going to lose you for a moment and he was about ready to die fighting two dragons. He had never thought it would have played out like that in a million years. He couldn’t believe you gave all of that up to stay with him. Now he knew how deep your loyalties ran- just to stay with him. He loved you now more than ever. “When I said you could go home I meant it!” Ivar urged. 

“By the time I would be able to get back, Dyre’s great grandkids would be old. I couldn’t miss...I couldn’t leave...I couldn’t... When I said that I was bound to you until death I meant it.” You answered back as you kissed him back and clung to him while you cried too. That was terrifying but Sephira had come through for you. 

“Is the baby ok?” Ivar asked as he palmed your belly. 

“Yes, he’s fine. Sephira revealed to me that it was a boy and insured the pregnancy as her last gift to me.” You answered.  

“Why didn’t you turn into a dragon too?” Ivar asked. 

“Because when I transform, my whole body transforms too, it would have hurt him, dragons lay eggs and my womb is not built for eggs and when I would have transformed back- I don’t know if when I transformed back, if he would transform back too, but now I can’t transform at all, I’m me as the gods intended.” You answered. 

Ivar nodded in understanding before he told his men that all the jewelry to be gathered and put into a chest for you while all the coins and other goods be taken to the treasury as you and Ivar walked back home. 

Freydis is so relieved to see you both and you hit the special button, hidden in the scales to make Dyre’s cocoon recceed. 

“So you’re not leaving after all?” Freydis asked. 

“No, I told Ivar that only death would separate him from me, and I meant it. I’m not going anywhere.” You answered. 

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 4

Ok, but actually, just..............this.  Just..............get in on this

Ao3

Hiccup and Heather found the Johann connection while she was helping him research his book.  It started, like most of his best ideas, as a joke while he was sifting through Sergeant Johanssen’s notes on the Grimborn case.  Johann was by all metrics, insufferable and attention-seeking, and as hard as it is to define the character of people who’ve been dead over a hundred years, the sheer number of mostly useless anecdotes he made officers sit through speaks for itself.  It was late in his Dad’s office when Hiccup flopped back and griped that if Johann was sadistic enough to make the Sergeant sit through one more tale about morality and cattle, maybe he was sadistic enough to murder and mutilate a series of prostitutes.  

Heather laughed, but something about it stuck with both of them because they kept looking into it anyway, as silly as it was, pulling the string to see what was there.  There are no shortage of primary sources citing Johann using the murders to sell more bibles, aiming to cleanse the streets of moral filth by educating them about the might of the lord.  

As a theory, it holds out further than most.  In fact, there’s nothing to disprove it.  Johann was in Berk during all of the Grimborn murders.  A couple of the Grimborn letters even have phrases in common with notes taken on Johann’s witness accounts.  It’s entirely plausible that a bible salesman in the late eighteen eighties killed a string of loose women in a violent campaign to impose morality on Downtown Berk, but there’s absolutely no way to prove it.  

That’s where Hiccup and Heather started fighting about it, she couldn’t take the open end.  She found random slayings in downtown Outcast Island, no mutilation, not even all prostitutes or obviously morally destitute people, and tried to start pinning them on Johann based on the fact he wasn’t noted to be in Berk that month.  She was ready to pull the trigger on something definitive and she started pushing it in tours, adding in leading pauses in front of the church, where Reverend Svenson encouraged Johann to lower prices as a form of aid, rather than expanding efforts to feed the poor.  

Just because there’s nothing wrong with the Johann theory doesn’t mean there’s anything right. Knowing things too well gets in the way of learning more about them, and Hiccup is in this to learn, not know.  

At least, that’s a very polite and summarized version of what he yelled at Heather and quit, calling her tour a stolen heap of sensationalist garbage that warps the facts for her own vanity.  

It’s ironic now that he’s approaching her out of his own vanity.  After a night of bugging Snotlout about how Astrid possibly could have known about Johann and getting nothing more than grumbling, it occurred to him that maybe she took Heather’s tour to have something new to shout down at him.  And well, since she already made it clear how she feels about him looking in her apartment, asking about her whereabouts in reference to Heather’s tour seems like a good way to press that harassment charge.  

He gets to the Ripped Tavern a bit early a couple days after Astrid’s Johann revelation and looks for Heather.  She’s at the bar, talking to her brother, and Dagur steps away when he sees Hiccup approaching, presumably warning Heather, because she turns and raises an eyebrow.

“Can I do something for you, Hiccup?”  She cocks her head, “I thought I was too sensationalized for a rational person like you to need anything from me.”

“I just wanted to ask if you’re still talking about Johann.”  He adjusts his bag on his shoulder, fidgeting with his laser pointer in his pocket.  

“Why wouldn’t I?”  She sets her jaw, “since we discovered the idea together—”

“Has anyone been particularly curious about it lately?”  He cuts her off, uninterested in rehashing the fight.  As long as she doesn’t publish anything without his notes, he’s content to trim the sides of Berserker tours’ profits as long as she holds out.

“Why?  Did you tell someone who wanted to finish figuring it out?” She rolls her eyes and Hiccup sighs.

“She’d be about our age, blonde, moved into Elizabeth Smith’s apartment and umm, well, she’s not a fan of my tour route—”

“No blonde women have asked me about Johann while complaining about your trespassing habits,” Heather shakes her head, “I swear, if Snotlout wasn’t looking out for you—”

“Well, he is.”  He doesn’t need this lecture from Heather, of all people.  Back before she took herself so seriously, she’s the one who dropped through the boarded-up window at Number 31, Harbor Road to examine the third site before it got torn down to make room for condos.  “And I was just wondering if anyone asked, but it sounds like no, so…thanks, have a sensational tour.”  His fake bitterness doesn’t do much to her and he wishes he hadn’t said anything at all when she frowns, concerned.  Hopeful. “Don’t even—”

“What if someone else figured it out?  I’m not the one being too petty to publish anything, I still have all my notes.”  

“Yeah and mine, how do they fit into the version of reality you tour?”  He doesn’t expect an answer to that and he doesn’t get one.  Letting Heather keep the notes is letting her have the last word without having a verbal WWE match in Victorian Garb, and his hat has been through enough lately already.  

Heather’s tour leaves on time and Hiccup’s slips out the side door fifteen minutes after.  It’s a foggy night and the girl on the spot where Mary Johnson was found squeaks and jumps into her boyfriend’s arms when she realizes.  He’s a little ahead of schedule when he approaches the first site, talking a little too fast and trying not to hope that Astrid will have something to say today.  Maybe something that reveals her methods or reasons.

Maybe she’ll lean out the window again and argue with him, shivering in her pajamas.  He shouldn’t have noticed, and he definitely shouldn’t have remembered, especially given he had to spend the rest of that tour fending off someone asking after her theories.  That should have been annoying enough for him to wish she’d stayed inside, but well, he didn’t.  

It’s worse that she’s pretty in a way that makes looking directly at her difficult.  Funnier for Snotlout, but worse for him.  

The lights are out in her apartment though, like she’d rather find somewhere else to be than argue with him, and he steps to the side of the sandstone wall, rubbing his hand over it and remembering the first time he came here.  It was the first place he stood that he knew that at some point, Viggo Grimborn stood in the exact same spot.  

“Before we get a little closer to the site of the first Grimborn murder,” he pauses when he looks at the group and sees Astrid at the back of it, arms crossed and keys dangling from her hand, like she caught him on her way home.  “Where we won’t enter or peek in at all, because that would be creepy.”  He gives her a thumbs up and she shrugs.  

“You’re talking about the ‘All Safe’ message, right?”  

“Well, I was going to,” he pats the wall, focusing back on the group and remembering where he was, “right, this wall, on the morning that Elizabeth Smith’s body was found, there was a message on it, presumably left by the murderer.  The officer on his morning patrol assumed it was meant for him from the officer on watch the night before, but when questioned, the night officer didn’t know anything about it.”  

“And because there were no pictures taken of it, because of a rainstorm later that afternoon, the main source for the message has always been the notes from the officer who was called by a witness to discover Elizabeth Smith’s body.”  Astrid excuses herself unnecessarily because the group is already splitting to look back at her, confused but used to being talked at by this point in the tour.  She could thank him for the warm up, maybe, but he doesn’t think he’ll be that lucky. “So, the message, ‘All Safe’ has always been understood to be a statement, as in, behind this wall, everything is safe.”  She steps up next to Hiccup, in front of the wall, fiddling with her keys like she’s nervous even as she gestures at the bricks.  

“Oh, are you going to give my tour?”  He doesn’t mean for the sarcasm to shut her down, necessarily, but he doesn’t expect her to shove it off, standing up straighter and looking between him and the tour group.  

“I was going to fix it, if that’s ok with you.”  

“Fix it?”  

“The ‘All Safe’ message was not officially photographed as part of the crime scene on the morning that Elizabeth Smith was discovered murdered,” she reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a piece of paper that unfolds to an eight and a half by eleven, slightly smeared, freshly printed scan of the Berk Enquirer. Judging by the font, it’s copied from a paper issued in the late eighteen hundreds, but Hiccup doesn’t recognize it.  He tends to stay away from the Enquirer, because he got done with stories about Viggo Grimborn running away with the Loch Ness monster.  “But, a back-page story broke in the Enquirer on the same day as the investigation began, and the ‘All Safe’ message is clear in the background.”

“What?”  Hiccup stops short, reaching reflexively for the paper, but she holds it over her head away from him, eyes flicking between his and his hat.  

“Well, if you didn’t know about this, I guess I am going to have to give the tour.”  She offers him the picture and when he takes it, snatches his hat off of his head and puts it on herself.  “Which means I need the stupid tour outfit.”  

“Hey!”  Hiccup reaches for his hat back but looks at the picture at the same time, his indignance and his hand pausing in unison when he angles the grainy image under the street lamp and clearly sees the chalk text of ‘All Safe’ written on the wall where they’re standing.  “Oh my God.”  

“As I was saying, when you actually see the famous ‘All Safe’ message, it’s obvious that it’s something else entirely.”  She nods decisively, the too big top hat tilting forward over her forehead, “it doesn’t say ‘All’, it says Al, I. It’s a signature.”  

“How did you find this?” He traces it with a fingertip.  

“Aren’t you going to pass it around to the group?”  She adjusts his hat, and he swallows hard, nodding a little too quickly and exhaling a suddenly obvious puff of steam into the cold air.  

“Sure, yeah.”  

“Anyway, as I was saying, presumably it’s a signature apparently announcing that one Al, last name starting with I, was safe at the wall the morning of November eleventh, eighteen eighty-three.  And the assumption has always been that it was connected with the Grimborn murders, because Elizabeth Smith was automatically considered the first Grimborn victim.”  She starts pacing a couple of steps back and forth, hands clasped behind her back, and she’s mocking him, sure, but she’s teasing him too.  

And she brought him new Grimborn evidence and it makes him wonder if she figured out about Johann herself, and that thought makes it kind of hard to breathe.

“But, I’d like to present an alternate hypothesis,” she turns to Hiccup, in particular, blue eyes on fire and he feels like he can’t move.  Not his foot, not his expression, which is somewhere between rejected, stunned, and thrilled.  “The same night that Elizabeth Smith was killed, there was a robbery in the downstairs of 324 Harbor Road.  It’s glossed over, because of the murder, but all signs point to it being a two-man job. One lookout, one person casing the basement apartment belonging to Elizabeth Smith’s brother-in-law, who she could have easily been visiting.  A week later, one Alfred Ireland was caught with that brother-in-law’s monogrammed knife and arrested for breaking and entering.”  

“What are you saying?” Hiccup passes the picture to the nearly forgotten tour group and the first girl looks at it with only casual interest.  

“I’m saying that a man, whose name could easily be abbreviated to ‘All’ was caught after stealing a knife the very night that Elizabeth Smith was stabbed, in the upstairs of the house where her brother-in-law lived.  I’m proposing that she’s not a Grimborn victim at all, but a casualty of a robbery that wasn’t meant to be anything more.”  Astrid reaches up for his hat, taking it deftly off of her head and setting it back on his.  Her thumb grazes his ear and he swallows hard.  “So, my apartment was just unfortunate enough to be the location of some casual, run of the mill violence, and does not belong on a Grimborn tour.” She exhales and nods, obviously pleased with herself as points at the circulating picture.  “You can keep that.”  

“Thanks,” Hiccup’s voice cracks and he clears his throat, “thank you, umm, but—”

“Don’t you have an actual tour to start?”  She waves him off as she walks to the front door of the building and lets herself in, “since this isn’t a location on it, I mean.”  

“I’m confused,” a guy in the tour group cuts across Hiccup’s thoughts, “is this a location of a Grimborn murder or not.”  

“I don’t—Ok, I don’t know why you guys chose my tour.”  Hiccup scratches his face, feeling flushed and off kilter again, brain flitting between Astrid and Johann and evidence he’s never imagined actually seeing.  “Or I do, it’s because it’s cheaper, but I like to pretend it’s because it’s less sensationalized and less…like I’m trying to spoon-feed you my own opinion of who Viggo Grimborn was or might have been.”

“It’s also longer,” a woman offers helpfully, “longer and cheaper.”  

“Great.  Thanks,” he laughs, “longer and cheaper, I’ll add that to the website.”  He looks up at Astrid’s apartment, the light turning on behind closed blinds, her shadow moving in front of it like she’s pacing.  “I’ve been studying Viggo Grimborn for about five years, I’ve read police notes and fictionalized accounts and theories that the murder was committed by anyone from the crown prince of a now defunct Scandanavian monarchy to a gang of rogue Free Masons.  Most sources point to one person, most likely a man, committing at least four murders, starting in that apartment with Elizabeth Smith in November eighteen eighty-three.”  He resists the urge to snatch the picture back and stare at it, to run home and compare it to his scans of letters and detectives’ writing.  

“But you don’t know?” Someone else asks and Hiccup shrugs.

“I don’t, and no one ever will.  There’s nothing in my knowledge saying what she just said isn’t correct, but there’s no DNA, there’s very little evidence left.  Sure, the case was foundational to modern forensics, but like all foundational things, the police work was flawed and riddled with mistakes.”  He gestures down the road, “let’s go to the second site, maybe the Grimborn fairy will come inform me that it was actually committed by…I don’t know, an escaped circus dragon.”  

Hiccup is a little surprised that anyone follows him, but then again, he is giving them a real bang for their ten bucks.  He manages to find his rhythm again at the second site, showing the gruesome pictures people love to cringe at, and walking too fast to illustrate the complicated timeline of the proposed double event.  But he’s glad when it starts raining, a veritable deluge cutting off the last ten minutes of the tour and sogging the brim of his hat by the time he gets home.  Usually, he hates cancelling, but tonight he’s fumbling his phone out of his pocket to update weather concerns on his site before he’s even up the stairs to his apartment.  

“I thought I smelled wet goat,” Snotlout catches him in the entry way, shrugging into his uniform jacket and zipping it up.  

“Good to see you too.”

“You know, because your coat is made of old goat fur or whatever.”  

“Wool,” Hiccup takes off the offending coat, hoping that Snotlout doesn’t notice him sniffing it. It doesn’t smell great, he could dry clean more often, but Astrid would have assumed that’s just the smell of murder sites, right?  “You’re looking for wool.”  

“Whatever,” Snotlout pats his holster and checks how secure his badge is, “are you in for the night?”

“Probably,” Hiccup shrugs, “Astrid actually umm…delivered some new evidence to me, I’ve got a lot to dig into.”  

“She seemed so normal, I can’t believe she’s shouting weird shit out the window at you.”  

“Grimborn-ology is cool,” Hiccup dodges when Snotlout tries to put him into a headlock, laughing and shuffling backwards towards his dad’s old office, “I always told you.”  

“Yeah, but I never thought it would start attracting hot girls,” he says goodnight and leaves and Hiccup lays the photo Astrid gave him out on his desk, next to his most recent, half full notebook.  

The fact is he’s not good with data he didn’t find himself, he always wants to see the paper it came from or the notes themselves.  The obsessive double checking of everything Heather found drove her crazy, but when he was having to back track from theories to the facts themselves, it was even more necessary.  He drums his fingers on the desk for a minute and his eyes dart to an old book on the shelf, the only one he has duplicates of.  

He still doesn’t know how Astrid found out about Johann.  Or the chalk message.  

She hasn’t come through on the harassment threat yet, and now she’s researching.  And Snotlout isn’t here to tell him that going to see her is a horrible idea, and maybe it’s not, they have a shared interest.  

He grabs a copy of the book, second edition, the one he found first, on the way out of the office and changes into an actual raincoat before heading out, hood pulled low over his forehead against the rain.  It’s a Saturday night, chances are she won’t even be home.  Maybe he could leave the book with a  note in it.  His number maybe, that would be a better way of communicating than her occasionally taking over his tour or shouting out windows.  That’s a good way to phrase it, not too presumptive, just as a way of sharing evidence.  

He’s so busy thinking through what he’s going to say and the rain is loud enough on his hood that he almost runs into two people on the sidewalk, one in an official looking black uniform that he’s really learning to hate and the other huddled under an umbrella with a heavy looking backpack.  

“It’s past curfew,” the man in the uniform says, blocking an alley that the woman with the umbrella is apparently trying to walk through, “the courtyard is closed to everyone but residents.”  

“I’m not trying to go through the courtyard, I’m just cutting through to the shelter.”  The woman shivers, “please, it closes in ten minutes.”  

“The courtyard—”

“Hi, what seems to be the problem here?”  Hiccup cuts in, doing his best Snotlout’s-cop-voice impression and standing up straight.  

“Neighborhood Watch Force concern,” the man in the uniform tries to brush him off, showing a pseudo-official badge that Hiccup knows to mean nothing.  Snotlout complains about these guys enough, the private security employed by the condo developers to keep the streets a certain brand of clean are really starting to think they’re cops.  

“I live in the neighborhood.”  Hiccup points over his shoulder, “one of the brownstones back there, what’s the neighborhood concern?”  

“The other side of this building is visible from The Docks,” he uses the pretentious name of the ugly condos he apparently works for, “I’ve been instructed to keep the streets empty past curfew for the safety of the neighborhood.”  

“Well, I feel safe,” Hiccup turns to the woman, who’s scared and probably homeless, “I’ll walk her to the shelter, I know the guy who runs it, I can get him to open the door even if we go the long way.”  

“Good, you’ll have to,” the uniform brings gravitas that doesn’t hold water and if Hiccup weren’t worried about scaring the woman further, he’d point it out.  

The woman’s name is Jennifer and it sounds like she’s trying to navigate a difficult divorce, but Hiccup doesn’t pry.  He delivers her to the back door of the shelter, texting Gobber to open up.  His usual lecture about being late ends abruptly when Hiccup mentions his conversation with the NWF.  

“No one will tell me what those pushy bastards are supposed to be allowed to do,” he shakes his head.

“They’ve been driving Snotlout crazy too,” Hiccup shrugs, “I just thought you’d want to know they’re blocking people crossing town, you might want to loosen up when you close the doors.”  

“Right, like I’m not already up against their curfew laws,” Gobber rolls his eyes, “thanks lad, great advice.  Oh, and by the way, speaking of driving people crazy, are you still harassing my tenants?”  

“You say harassing, I say stimulating their curiosity,” Hiccup grins, “it seems I have a new source of Grimborn info.  I’m heading over to talk to Astrid now.”  

“She invited you?”  

“She stimulated my curiosity,” he winces, stepping backwards out of the range where Gobber could cuff his ear with a cold, metal hook.  

“I’m sure she did,” Gobber shakes his head, “you know, maybe I could get that NWF to keep my tenants safe too.  Keep the riff-raff out of my courtyard.”  

“Hey, that’s what I’m for, you want me out of a job?”  

“Maybe then you’d be into a real one,” Gobber grumbles as he goes back inside and Hiccup yanks his hood back up, heading towards Astrid’s apartment the back way to avoid any more run ins.  He cuts across the street at the second murder site, patting the book in his inner pocket to make sure it’s still dry and ringing the visitor bell on the front door of Astrid’s building to get temporary access.  

It gives five minutes for an interior door to open, and if none do, Gobber is alerted and tonight, would know to call Snotlout, so keeping this under five minutes if necessary is probably for the best.  He really just wants to drop off the book and ask Astrid a few questions, if she seems receptive.  If not, there has to be another way to track down her sources, there are only so many collections with hundred year plus old Berk Enquirers.  

He knocks on the door and takes a step back so that she can see him clearly through the peephole, checking his watch and vowing to leave in three minutes, no matter what.  She opens the door almost immediately, wearing sweatpants with her hair braided over her shoulder and the suspicious glare he’s starting to think of as typical on her face.  

“What do you want?”  

“Hi,” he brushes beaded up water off of the front of his coat before unzipping it to get out the book.

“Hi, what are you doing here?”  She blocks the doorway with a confidence that shows she’s not really worried about him fighting his way through, and looking at her, that’s probably fair.  “You don’t have a troupe of people who want to see my living room with you, right?”  

“No, I cancelled my last two tours,” he shakes his head, wet hair dripping onto the floor, “weather.”

“But you couldn’t skip your pilgrimage?”  She steps back, gesturing at her mostly empty living room.  

Hiccup can’t help but impose the tenant house walls over it, the pre-remodel door about six feet behind her, eternally immortalized in those first crime scene photos.  There were three apartments on this floor then instead of two, and the kitchen plumbing had to go through an external add on that made the window on the far wall wider.  

“I brought you a book,” he holds it out to her and she stares at it, suspect.  

“Viggo Grimborn Solved: The Admiral Haddock Connection.”  She reads the title and her hand twitches towards it, curious even as her face betrays nothing.  

“You asked a couple weeks ago what my theory was.  I told you I liked the mystery, and that’s true, but this is my favorite theory.” He waits a beat and almost pulls his hand back, but she takes the book and starts flipping through it, leaning her shoulder on the door frame.  

“Admiral Hiccup Haddock?” She raises an eyebrow, “so that’s not your real name?  It’s an alias or something?”  

“No, it’s my real name, I’m named after him.  He’s my great-great-great-great grand uncle or something, I’m not exactly sure what you call your great-great-great-great-grandfather’s brother, I probably miscounted greats—”

“Did he do it?”  She frowns, looking at the publishing information. Second edition, nineteen forty-five underlined.  

“Oh God no,” he laughs, “his dad had been the crown prince before the republic and then raised a son who had an esteemed navy career and retired to police work, but this guy, A. M. Mildew was absolutely sure that he spent the summer he was twenty-four murdering prostitutes in Downtown Berk.  Absolutely none of it makes sense, there’s a whole passage hinting at a victory song at The Academy actually referring to this complicated web of forbidden, gay, masonic relationships.”  

She raises an eyebrow and flips through, skimming his notes in the margins, “so it’s bullshit.”  

“An utter, steaming pile of it.”  He nods, “my favorite theory, it has my name all over it.”  

“Funny,” she snorts, a dry little laugh that reaches her eyes more than the rest of her expression. “Why are you telling me this?”  

“You showed me a picture I’ve been wanting to see for about five years, a picture I didn’t think existed.” He tucks his hands in his pockets, his jeans damp almost through from the rainy walk over.  “And Johann was kind of my pet theory, for a while, I didn’t tell anyone but my old partner.  At first, I thought you must have talked to her, but she said no.  And well, it seems like you’ve been doing your own research, I was guessing—hoping, maybe—that you were curious.”  

“I work part time at the archives at the university,” she sets the book inside on a shelf or table he can’t see, and it feels like a win, if not a definitive victory.  “If it was all about the mystery, I thought maybe if I solved it, I could diminish some of the allure.”  

“But then I come here and tell you that my favorite theory is the absolute nonsense one that I happen to be named after…”

“Any chance we could compromise on you buying me soundproof curtains?”  She smiles then, not quite friendly, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes as she takes half a step forward, almost into the hallway.  

“Let me give you a private tour,” he blurts, gesturing at her living room and down the stairs beside him in a combination that’s probably more jazz hands than anything else.  “The real tour, the three in the morning tour, with the good stuff I leave out most of the time.”  

Her brows knit together as she stands up straight, arms crossed and instantly closed off again, “no, I don’t think so.”  

“Oh,” he flushes, “I thought you were maybe umm, warming up to me a little there, guess I misread that. I’ll go—”

“No, as in ‘no, I’m not going on a serial killer memorabilia tour at three in the morning with a guy I don’t know’.  That sounds like a really good way to get murdered.”  

“When you put it that way, that makes sense,” he looks at his shoes for a second, “you have a gift for framing things.”  Which is the lamest compliment that anyone has ever given anyone and he winces.  

“You keep needing me to remind you of really obvious things.”  She looks like she might be about to smile again, and Hiccup can’t help but push his luck, tapping at his watch.  

“Let me try, you know how time is circular?”  

She frowns, “I’d say time is linear, last time I checked.”  

“Ok, sure, but our understanding of a repeating twenty-four-hour day is circular.”  He waits for her to nod, one shoulder shrugging slightly, “so if we follow that theory, at some point, really late becomes early.  So, while staying up to meet someone to go on a Grimborn tour with some guy you barely know at three in the morning might be creepy, starting your day outlandishly early by meeting a guy who gave you a book on his family’s fake sordid history for a Grimborn tour might be totally fine.”  

“Oh, so mornings I have to be at work at four-thirty, you’re saying it’s normal to add a Grimborn murder tour detour to my morning commute?”  

“Four-thirty?  The private tour is at least two hours.”  He assures her, “and by that point it’s getting light out, which makes it even harder for it to be creepy.”  He can see her thinking about it, biting her lip and looking over her shoulder at the book.  “And if worse comes to worst and I default to my obviously genetic tendencies towards murder, I bet you can totally take me.”  He flexes, “noodle arms.”  

“I’ll…” she sighs, “I’ll let you know if I ever have a morning that early.  Give me your number?”  

“Yeah, sure, that’s—here,” he hands her his phone, “put yours in, I’ll text you.”  

“One condition,” she passes the phone back and forth between her hands, “you aren’t going to start a daily Grimborn facts text service, are you?”  

“Not until you ask me to,” he nods, “which you will, after my private tour.”  

“Sure.”  She hands his phone back and stares at him another second, taking a slow step backwards into her apartment.  “So, I’ll let you know.”  

“Right.”  He nods, rezipping his jacket and steeling himself to go back into the rain, even though he doesn’t think keeping warm will be a problem this time.  “Looking forward to it.”  

[ocs-of-the-c]

Whumptober 2019

#2-Explosion

Malcer treated her like dirt. Malcer was responsible for her miserable life as an urchin on the streets of Corvendor. And now, Malcer had killed the only mother she’d ever known. Rieta had only wanted to hurt him in return. Was that so much to ask? Apparently it was, for a tiefling.

Blood welled up from a gash on her arm as she faced the human, who strode towards her as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Ice blue eyes pierced her with an almost bored glare that practically swam with cruelty.

“You come into my home, elude my guards, and try to kill me, and you expect me to simply let you do it? I think not!”

He lunged forward, the tip of his sword pointed squarely at her heart. Rieta tried to dodge, but he was too fast for her. The blade whipped forward, slashing in a wide arc across her chest.

White-hot pain flashed through her body, and she fell to her knees, clutching at her midsection. Her fingers came away soaked in black, and she knew the wound was either mortal or would be soon enough.

“Even your blood betrays you, devil spawn. What I do now is supposed to be a mercy, but I take no small pleasure in it.”

The whoosh of air from above her head told her Malcer had raised his sword. She wondered whether he could explain away a tiefling head in his attic, for it was obvious that he was going to behead her. She wondered whether dying would hurt as much as she hurt now. She wondered if anyone would miss the street kid with horns and a whole lot of attitude. She wondered if any pantheon would accept the soul of a being tainted with the power of a devil. Not that she believed in their divinity anyway. They’d done nothing for her.

She looked up, determined to meet her end with pride. No way was she giving this bastard the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Then it happened.

Rieta wasn’t entirely sure what it was at first. It began as a flicker of warmth, the heat spreading throughout her body like she was sitting in front of a warm fire.

She could feel it growing, coursing through her and filling her up inside. It felt wild and untamed, like it was begging to be unleashed.

She couldn’t see how her day could get any worse, so she let it loose with a yell.

A burst of flame knocked Malcer on his ass, his purple robe catching on fire in the process. He rolled around like a worm, frantically trying to extinguish his precious fabric.

Rieta didn’t hesitate. Her worn and torn boot came down on the man’s face, breaking his nose with a loud crunch. She didn’t wait to see if she’d done any other damage, bolting out of the nearest door as the attic floorboards began to smoke and crackle.

By the time she’d made it to the town gate, Corvendor was aflame. Fire leapt from building to building, greedily licking at the wood. As she watched, Malcer’s house exploded, a loud roar she’d only heard in stories about dragons filling the air. Whatever the merchant had kept in there, it clearly wasn’t fireproof.

She didn’t let herself think on what she’d unwittingly done. Not yet. There would be time for that after she’d gotten herself far, far away from what was once her home.

The guard at the gate was long gone, likely called to help battle the fire. She’d seen him treat his mount badly, so she only felt a little guilty as she attempted to get on top of the beast.

It took several tries, and lots of cursing, before Rieta finally managed to sit astride the horse. Staying on top, though, would be another matter. She’d never ridden before, but if she fled on foot it would be easier for them to catch her.

“There she is! Stop her!”

Well, she’d have to learn fast.

——

Another Whumptober entry, another DND OC! Rieta Raykus is my first DND character, a CG tiefling sorcerer who grew up on the mean streets. Thanks to @whumpster-dumpster for enlightening me about Whumptober, this allowing me to get Rieta’s backstory out into the world! It’s a little long for a prompt, so sorry about that. If you have any questions about her or Korinn, shoot me an ask! I love talking about DND!

[shipmistress9]

What it means to be Chief - Chapter 13: Revenge Part 1

Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4;

Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8;

Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12

Hiccup couldn't say how he'd made it up the stone stairs. After Tuffnut's gasped out comment, his head had become utterly blank and he hadn't stopped running ever since. A part of his mind must have noticed Tuff's remark about them being in the Great Hall but he didn't remember it. Forgotten were his pounding head and heavy limbs, his surprise over the story Gobber had just told him and the worries over finding any pieces of evidence after all this time. He'd even forgotten his rage and his hatred for the Redthorns for a while.

All he could think of was Astrid. Was she injured or hurt? What had happened? How had Geir gotten hold of her? Dammit, if only he would have returned to her directly! They could have gone together to see Gobber, why hadn't he thought of that option? It was all his fault! Gods, if something had happened to her! Or to their child… This thought sent an icy chill down his spine and he sped up even further. If Geir had harmed either of them then he was a dead man, Hiccup would-

He stopped dead as he reached the platform at the top of the stairs. If Geir has harmed them, I will kill him! Never before had Hiccup though words like these and in a way, it frightened him to think them now. But it also soothed him. It was a plan he could follow should –

No! Astrid and their baby had to be alright. They just had to! There was no other option, no plan B, no what if. He couldn't go on if it were otherwise.

In some kind of trance, he entered the Great Hall, barely noticing how Toothless and Stormfly followed him through the gate. As always, his eyes needed a moment to adjust to the dim light but Stormfly's squeal and the direction she disappeared into told him all he needed to know. Told him where Astrid would be. While he hurried after the Nadder, he was finally able to see more of the room. Somewhere ahead of him, at the far back of the Hall, he saw a small group of people gathered around a bench. He casually noticed Ruff, Lia, and Legs and, as the latter made a step to the side, Astrid sitting between them. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and held a mug in her hands from which she took a careful sip now. The sight of her sitting upright, conscious and not obviously injured soothed him somewhat and he was able to take in more of his surroundings again.

His eyes wandered through the room, searching and observing. To his right, at their usual table, he could hear Magnus' angry voice along with some more riot. Hiccup saw the blonde Chief throwing his arms around in agitation, his guards close behind him while Geir was held firmly by Eret, the ex-trapper's short sword at his throat to keep him in check. A wall of Berkians led by Dagur as it seemed stood between them, keeping Magnus from reaching his son.

For a moment, a very short moment, Hiccup considered changing direction. He should go and deal with the captive before the situation escalated. Eret and Dagur seemed to have everything under control for now but one never knew. It would be the right thing to do…

Without losing even one step, Hiccup ran on and kneeled down in front of Astrid a moment late. Without a word, he drew her into a tight embrace, not caring that this made her mug fall down and shatter. She was alright, not injured, not dead! It took her a moment to react, a moment for Hiccup to almost panic. But then her arms were around him in an instant, clinging to him. Her fingers were desperately digging into his shoulders as she first began to tremble and then to sob.

"Hiccup, I… I'm sorry!" She whined, an uncontrollable stream of word flowing out of her. "I'm so sorry! I should have listened to you, should have kept my promise. I'm sorry, Hiccup! If something would have happened it would be all my fault! I-"

"Shh-shh!" Hiccup tried to soothe her. He nearly crushed her in his arms with how tightly he was holding her, was she pulling herself toward him. She'd slid off the bench, all but sitting in his lap now while he was slowly rocking them both back and forth. "Whatever happened, it's not your fault!" he clarified. "I should have returned to you as soon as possible, just like I had promised. I am sorry, okay? So sorry!"

Astrid gasped out a weak laugh and pressed herself closer to him as if she was trying to hide from the rest of the world. He let her do so for a couple of minutes, soothingly rubbing her back until she began to relax.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly after a while. Aside from the shock, she seemed alright but he had to make sure. He needed to know that she was alright, for himself and also for when he would have to deal with what had happened.

"Yes, I'm okay," she answered in a low voice and halfheartedly wiped a few tears away when Hiccup helped her up and onto the bench again. "He… I'm not hurt or anything… I think…" Absentmindedly, she raised one hand to her mouth while she wrapped the other arm around her chest. Hiccup reached up to brush her bangs out of her face and to covertly remove some more tears but paused when he noticed something strange. Carefully, he reached for her hand instead, drew it away from her mouth and then saw it clearly. A faint shadow over her chin and nose, not quite a bruise but almost.

"What happened?" Hiccup asked, gulping. He had a fairly good idea how that mark had gotten onto her face but that was not what he was asking anyway. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to know what had happened but he needed to. He needed to know so he could decide what to do next. But Astrid just shrugged helplessly and shook her head.

"I don't know," she said in a small voice. "I… I barely remember anything. I came to look for you and… and then I had a contraction and he was suddenly behind me, held me. I tried to fight him, I really did! But…" She shrugged again rubbing her chest as if she was cold. Without thinking twice, he unclasped his fur coat and draped it over her shoulders. Astrid gave him a small smile and grabbed the heavy coat to draw it closer around her. It seemed like she wanted to vanish inside it, pressing her face into the thick material and inhaling deeply. It was a feeling he knew all too well and only wished he could do more for her. But as much as he wanted to let her distract herself he needed to know…

"Astrid?" He asked hesitantly. "Did he…" he wasn't able to finish the question and left it hanging in the air. His hands closed around hers, squeezing it reassuringly.

Astrid shuddered for a moment but then shook her head. "No," she whispered. "He didn't. He just… tried to imitate what we did last night, I guess…" She trailed off, shuddering once more and Hiccup felt hot rage boil up deep inside him again.

Swallowing hard, he leaned his forehead against hers, to calm her and himself alike. It took a few moments but then she relaxed further, exhaled softly and let her arms drop onto her bump.

Hiccup didn't calm down though. Because when she dropped her arms he saw it. He saw the torn front of her dress and the obviously hand-shaped bruise on her breast. A new wave of rage surged through him, hotter and stronger, and he fought hard to keep himself in check. For now…

"He'll regret this!" He growled. "I promise, I'll make him pay!"

Astrid gazed up at him, a torn look in her eyes. "Don't let him get to you!" she pleaded. "Don't give in, that's what he wants. Don't give him that satisfaction, please!"

He looked down into her deep blue eyes and gulped. It wasn't like her to say this. If one of them was up to immediate revenge and lashing out then it was Astrid and not him. But there was something in her eyes, a sincerity that made him pause. He wanted Geir to suffer for what he'd done to her but she was right and deep down he'd already known that before. Just striking at him in any way wouldn't be enough. Hiccup forced a weak smile on his face and lightly squeezed her hand. "I don't intend to!"

Before either of them could say anything more, hurried steps echoed through the hall and a moment later, Helka Hofferson appeared next to them. Without a word, Hiccup made way and let the woman examine her niece. He watched her checking Astrid's pulse and her eyes and asking simple questions all the while working through what he knew and what he could do now. A minute later, Helka laid her hands on Astrid's bump, pressing and probing lightly, murmuring to herself before she nodded. Hiccup just waited for her to confirm that as for now the baby was alright as well before he squeezed Astrid's shoulder and went to deal with the problem at hand.

Toothless was at his side as he approached the group of men at the other end of the Hall. He felt eerily calm despite the rage burning in his guts. Because he knew what he had to do, which of his options was the wisest even though he didn't like it. But it was a solid plan he could follow and it gave his mind space to work

He noticed everything! Every single detail stood out to him. He noticed how Magnus flinched and his guards behind him backed away in an instant when they saw Toothless closing in. At the same time, his own men relaxed when they saw him, turning the whole situation somewhat to his favour. Only Geir kept swearing and cursing as he couldn't see the dragon behind him, kept throwing insults but didn't dare to actually fight against the blade at his throat.

"Let go of me, moron!" he hissed. "Put your weapon down or you will regret it! I'm heir to my tribe, attacking me is a major crime. I'll have you hanged!"

"Let him go, in Magni's name!" came now Magnus' plea as well, his eyes switching between his son and the approaching Hiccup. "He was just flirting with the lass, nothing wrong with that" Hiccup's anger flared up anew at these words but he didn't let it show. He needed to stay calm, to go about this logically. Behind Magnus, his guards exchanged worried glances. Interesting! So they knew their Chief was lying and weren't comfortable with it. Good! Maybe he could use that. As he finally stepped between the men, Hiccup noticed something else. Laif was the only one still sitting at their table. He watched the whole scene interested but seemingly unperturbed. This, too, he filed away for later use.

"Drop the charade, Magnus!" Hiccup said in a low voice like gleaming steel. "We all know it was more than flirting, my wife's bruises are evidence enough."

"Oh, is that so?" Geir sneered. "May I see them? Just to make sure you're not making anything up!"

Hiccup's hands twitched but Eret was faster, increasing the pressure of his blade and making Geir gasped in what must have been fear. It was a satisfying sound but Hiccup made a quick gesture nonetheless, signalling Eret to drop his weapon.

"You are right, Geir, attacking a Chief or his relatives is a major crime" Hiccup went on. "And you attempted to rape my wife and harm my unborn heir. You will have to answer for this either in a trial here on Berk or to the Chief' tribunal. It is your right to choose between these options but I highly recommend choosing the latter. You're going to be stripped off your birthright and title, you will become an Outcast but you'll live" For a while, he added mentally. Alvin still owed him a favour… This was the prudent way, the right way but not what Hiccup wanted. It would put an end to Geir's current brutal lifestyle and maybe to his life as well. And it would be a signal to others as well. But it felt too simple. He was familiar enough with the laws to know that this was almost an ironclad case. It would be his and Dagur's word as Chiefs against Magnus', supported by several men. Maybe the Redthorn guards would also testify in his favour or even Laif, one never knew. It was the right way but, by Thor, Hiccup hoped for a different outcome.

"You can't do that!" came Magnus nearly panicky voice even though Hiccup's sharpened mind detected a false note in it. "He's my heir, my son. It was just fun, just fooling around a bit, you can't-"

"I recommend you to be quiet, Magnus!" Hiccup went on, still eerily calm outside but quickly running out of patience. "I have no proof for what you did in Crescent Harbor yet but I will find them. And you will have to answer for your crimes as well. Maybe you will even be convicted on the same day. That would save some efforts, don't you think?" He added lightly. It was weird how calm he was on the outside. On the inside, he was boiling with rage and just wanted to… to hurt them! He wanted them to suffer like their victims had suffered, wanted to inflict pain on them, hurt them and watch-

Slightly dazed, Hiccup shook his head. He was not like that! He was not like them!

"Good luck with that!" Magnus spat and tore Hiccup out of his thought. He looked up again and into Magnus' scornful grin, in his guard's wary faces, and in Laif's bewildered expression. "You won't find any proof, but go ahead, waste your time if you want"

"Is that the confession that you got rid of every piece of evidence? Killed every witness?"

Magnus laughed. "Nice try, boy. Nice try. I'm just saying that after all this time, every proof surely would be gone and as for witnesses…" He paused, a derisive grin on his face. "These Southerners were a weak lot. Ruled by a man who sought advice from his wife in every matter, a disgrace to our sex. They deserved to be wiped off Midgard's face!" He paused, pointedly looking at Hiccup. "I'm grateful to whoever did it!"

The threat in these words was unmistakable but Hiccup forced himself not to react. Magnus had said it once himself, nobody would dare to attack Berk when it was protected by dragons. It was just empty boasting, just words.

"Escort our guests to their hut!" He ordered in direction of his men. "Make sure they are safely guarded until their ship is ready. Magnus, Geir, we'll see each other in front of the Chiefs' Tribunal, even if I have to come and get you myself." As Hiccup was about to turn away, his eyes fell on Laif, who still sat at the table, unmoving and disbelievingly staring at Hiccup, just as one man took him by the arm to lead him outside. A weird boy, Hiccup thought. He should –

Clink!

"Tell Astrid thanks for me!" Geir remarked now that Eret and his sword were safely gone, fighting against his captor's hold to stay close enough to Hiccup to be heard. "I loved her responsiveness during our passionate exchange! And tell her I'm sorry for gaging her, I so would have liked to hear her scream for me. And she's so soft," He made a distinct gesture with his hand, squeezing an invisible breast. "Aaahhh, I might come just from the memory." Geir shuddered in sickening anticipation. "In fact, if Eret had interrupted us only ten seconds later, I would have come between her legs. Such a shame, I bet she would have liked that!"

Hiccup closed his eyes, hands in fists, his whole body shaking. He recalled Astrid's word as an anchor to stay sane. He wouldn't let Geir get to him… He would not give in, that was what he wanted. He would not give him that satisfaction.

"Get them out of here!" He hissed, turning his back on his guests as they were led outside.

Clink!

He would not snap, not now when it was finally over!

Clink!

Geir had done his best to lure him out, even occasionally scoffed at how he was too weak to do any harm anyway.

Clink!

Ha, he would have been in for a surprise! Snotlout's missing teeth were proof of that!

Clink!

And what was that sound?

Clink – Thud – Clink – Thud – Clink

Hiccup closed his eyes and concentrated. He was quite familiar with these sounds, the uneven sounds of his own steps, metal and leather on the stone floor.

Thud – Clink

But he wasn't moving right now!

"Stop!" He called out sharply, loud enough for everyone within the Great Hall to hear. This wasn't… he had to be wrong!

He stomped toward Geir, burning hatred in his eyes. "Hold him!" he ordered and the two men at Geir's side did as told. Hiccup leaned down and yanked Geir's foot up, with enough force that the Redthorn heir would have toppled over if not for his captors' grip. There Hiccup could see it, gleaming and shining innocently.

A small metal coin attached to the sole of Geir's shoe.

"She wasn't even suspecting anything when she heard this," Geir chuckled menacingly. "What a nice surprise for her, don't you think? Getting a real man instead of a scrawny fishbone?"

Hiccup vision turned bright red. He'd never seen his missing leg as a problem, had never felt like being less because of it. For the most part that had been because of Astrid. Because she had never treated him as anything less just because he'd lost his leg. She'd always just admired him for his bravery on that day. And now Geir had used the fact that he had a metal leg to get to her?

It took less than a second. His hand was already balled into a fist, his whole body tight and burning with rage. He only needed to draw his arm back a little and –

The impact of his fist meeting Geir's face was followed by a surprised grunt and then, half a second later, by a pained howl and some curses. Hiccup didn't understand what Geir was saying, his head buzzing with adrenaline and his own laboured breathing but it surely wasn't flattering. Then Geir coughed and spat at the ground, dark blood with two bright spots where his teeth had landed.

For a few moments, it was utterly silent in the Great Hall.

Then Geir looked up at him, his carefully arranged sneer replaced by an ugly mask of pure hatred. "You!" he growled, the nasty gaps in his mouth plainly visible. "You'll regret this! Mark my words, Haddock! You will regret this!"

. o O o .

Woooohoooow! Who wanted angrycup? Ah, I guess everyone. Here you go, isn't he fantastic? O:-)

Next chapter

[crazy4dragons]

Drabble: Adjustments

With a new addition to the family, Hiccup and Astrid need to make some adjustments around Berk. The only problem is, Hiccup doesn't want to. ... Hiccup walked through the door to see Astrid settled in a comfortable chair, her feet tucked underneath her and two-week-old Stoick sleeping in her arms. "How's our son?" asked Hiccup, leaning in to kiss his wife. "He was a little fussy this morning, but he's okay now." Astrid smiled at her infant. "I still can't believe what a sweetheart he is. And he's so tiny, too." The young chief laughed softly. "I don't think you've put him down since he was born. He's gonna get spoiled." "You can't spoil a baby this young," Astrid insisted. "And besides, what can I do besides hold him? I can't go flying or anything." While giving birth, Astrid had torn, and as a result, had received two small stitches in a place she hadn't even known stitches could exist. As a result of both that and the post-birth bleeding that was practically the worst period she'd ever experienced, she needed to take it easy for a few weeks. No flying, no patrols, no combat training. "You could draw," suggested Hiccup. "That's your thing," Astrid shrugged. She cradled little Stoick closer to her chest. "And besides, I like keeping him where I can see him. I mean, the first month of a baby's life is risky, and after what Valka said the first month of your life was like, I just wanna make sure he stays safe." "I'm sure he will," Hiccup assured. "After all, he has your strength." The blonde smiled as her baby's eyes cracked open. Fussing, he reached out a helpless hand to reassure himself that Astrid was still there. "What? Do you wanna eat?" "I'll start supper while you nurse him," Hiccup offered. "What are you hungry for?" "Yak and bread would be nice," Astrid said, unbuttoning her nightgown just enough to allow Stoick room for nursing. "And we have leftovers from the other day." "I'll warm them up." "Thanks, babe." Sighing, Astrid guided her son to her breast and watched as he struggled to begin suckling. Neither one of them had quite gotten used to the whole nursing process yet, so every time he ate, it was a struggle to find a suitable position in which to hold him that was comfortable for both baby and mother. "How are you feeling?" Hiccup asked, coming up behind his wife and placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'm fine." Astrid grabbed a nearby baby blanket and tucked it under her infant's head. "Here you go," she murmured to him. "You just need a little extra boost. Now you can reach better." "Aww, look at him eat," said Hiccup. The blonde tilted her head up to meet her husband's gaze. "You know, having sex with you was the best decision I ever made." Hiccup laughed. "That's not what you were saying while you were pregnant and in labor." "Well, those parts were rough, but it was worth it to have this little guy." "You're not upset you can't fly?" "I'll probably sneak a flight or two in the next couple days. Stormfly will go easy on me if I ask her." "Yeah, but just be careful, okay? Stoick needs his Mama to stay healthy." "When am I ever not careful?" Shaking his head, Hiccup leaned in to kiss his wife's forehead. "I love you, milady. You and this little guy." He used his thumb to brush a drop of milk off of little Stoick's chin. "Yeah, he's a messy eater," Astrid remarked. "And he takes an eternity to finish a meal." As the baby freed his bare feet from the blanket he was wrapped in, she quickly began to rub them in an attempt to keep him warm. "No socks for him?" "I'm not wearing socks either, babe." Astrid stretched out her own feet. "And no leggings?" Hiccup asked, catching sight of the blonde's bare legs. "My gods, milady. You must be freezing." "Not really. I've been cuddling with him by the fire all day." She gestured to her son. Hiccup raised an eyebrow. "Cheating on me, are you?" Astrid laughed. "Well, I found myself a better man." "Mm-hm. Sure you did." "By the way, your mom stopped over earlier," Astrid began after a few moments of silence had passed between the couple. "She gave us some herbs." "For what?" "Some are to help me heal from giving birth, and the rest are to help your leg. She said you told her it's been bothering you lately." "It's not that bad," Hiccup insisted. "That's not what she was saying." The blonde took a deep breath."Why didn't you say anything to me, babe?" "Because I knew you were busy trying to take care of yourself and the baby, and I didn't wanna make you feel like you had to take care of me, too." He paused. "And besides, it's okay. Really, it is. It just hurts from all the chiefing I've been doing recently." "Have you thought about appointing an acting general?" Astrid asked. "You know, to help you out until Stoick doesn't need me all the time?" "I don't know about that." "I'm just saying, he's probably gonna be nursing a lot until he's three moons old or so. After that, I'll be able to leave him with Valka during the afternoons, but until then, you really need someone to help you out who's not responsible for nourishing a baby." "Who would I get?" Moving in front of the chair, Hiccup began to pace. "Fishlegs and Ruffnut just got married, and it wouldn't be fair to ask them to take time away from each other. I mean, even you and I got a moon to ourselves. And then Snotlout and Heather are planning to get married in the next moon, and judging by how secretive they've been acting lately, I'm almost sure she's already expecting. So that just leaves Tuffnut, and you know how irresponsible he is." "What about Gobber? Or your mom?" "Gobber's already done his fair share. And my mom's still new to Berk." "Eret?" "He's new to Berk, too." "But he clearly has leadership skills. And warrior skills." Hiccup sighed. "I guess, but --" "But nothing, Hiccup. You need to find someone. If you don't, you're gonna drive yourself crazy. And besides, wouldn't you like to spend more time with your son?" "Yes, I do wanna spend more time with him, but I can't just leave Berk to sink. Astrid, you're the only one I trust enough to be General. I just can't imagine having anyone else in that spot. You're smart, brave, strong, and you can think like my dad. And he was probably the best Chief Berk had in years." "I'm flattered, babe, but you need to be practical. I mean, we have a baby now, and a baby is a huge responsibility. And as the baby's mother, most of that responsibility falls under me. Until he starts weaning, at least. Then you can help out more. But in the meantime, we gotta find a way to balance everything. And part of that is appointing an acting general." "Okay, fine. You want an acting general, you pick one. But if anything goes wrong --" "It won't go wrong. It'll be fine. Just trust me. Eret will do a great job." As Stoick began fussing, Astrid shifted him to her other breast and helped him latch. "Don't worry, little one. I have more for you," she murmured to him. "So you're picking Eret?" asked Hiccup. "Why not? Like I said before, he has the skills needed to help run an island. And I also think Gobber could pitch in. You know, guide him a little bit if he gets stuck." The young chief let out a heavy sigh. "Alright. I'll talk to Eret after we eat, and then make the announcement tomorrow." "Good. And as I've been saying, you won't regret it."

[extraordinarymage]

DA OCs’ name meaning (Part 2)

Now, I will be tackling my League of Extraordinary Magi universe. Specificially, I go into the Amell and Hawke family lines in detail. 

Here is Part One. This is Part Two. 

Fausten Amell: Alright, Fausten’s name was taken the canon Amell line because I really wanted to emphasize Warden Amell and Hawke’s family ties as I went through the conceptual process. To me, it made logical sense to me that Revka (Fausten’s mom) would name her children after her family due to being nobility and having all of her kids taken away to the Circle. A namesake can give someone so much identity and I believe Revka wanted that for her children, even if they were mages who were meant to hold no titles. So, Fausten is named after his maternal grandfather. Officially, Fausten denies that he cares about the Amell name and its legacy, but in action - he seeks titles and political power innately by being King Alistair’s advisor, becoming Arl of Amanranthine, and allying with his cousin, Dov Hawke, who had retrieved the historic Amell estate. Really, as Hero of Ferelden, Fausten is a revolutionary mage to be openly holding so much power, outside of Tevinter.

On root level, I interpret the name Fausten as an allusion to the names Austin and Faust. In this case, the element of Faust is more important because it references Faust from the German legend who made a deal with the devil. Actually, this ends up parallelling Fausten’s own life because he routinely has traded his morality for temporary power and prestige: he betrayed his friend, Jowan, in loyalty to the Circle, Fausten wanted to join the Wardens considering what the organization could do for him politicall, he allows Avernus to continue unethical study for a Cure to the Calling, and Fausten encourages Alistair to become King because it was politically convenient. It takes Fausten some time to realize his mistakes during Origins and grow as a person beyond being a pragmatist. Eventually, he turns his efforts to empowerment of mages universally instead of just being out for himself. 

Donovan “Dov” Hawke: Initially, I went with Dov because I just liked the way the syllable sounded. It is pronounced like “daw-ve”. Obviously, there is a a joke with “Dove” and “Hawke”, but it was a passing one. I went with Donovan as his full name because it reminded of Carver and Bethany in naming conventions. And since Dov is my canon Hawke who is actually biologically related to Malcolm, I felt like that similiarity was critical. Donovan is a Gaelic name that means something the lines of “brown” or “dark”. 

Hudson Trevelyan: I’ll be honest, I just chose the name Hudson because it seems like a solid name. According to Behind the Name, Hudson means “Son of Hudde” which derives from Hugh, perhaps - which means “heart, mind, spirit”. Which I absolutely LOVE for Hudson because he is a spiritual and loving man. Really, his peacefulness is central to his character and his struggle against his upbringing. His parents never admitted him to the Circle when he was boy, instead he lived with a Templar who watched over him. It was not a safe place for him, but eventually he ran off with their elf servant into the Ferelden countryside. He loved his wife dearly and they had a daughter named Embriana. Now, Hudson tried to have an honest life as farmer, but his parents tracked him down through their Chantry connections. They gave him an ultimatum, give yourself up to the Circle and save us the embarrassment of your death. He agreed on the condition that his wife and child will be taken care of financially. His wife ended up passing away, but his daughter, Embriana, became the heir to the Trevelyan legacy. Although, once Hudson becomes Inquisitor, you know he got custody back of his daughter using his political leverage. 

Bonus:

Embriana: Hudson’s daughter! I love her dearly. She was raised by her grandparents for most of her life. To be honest, they indoctrinated her with Andrastian beliefs and denied the fact she was half-elf. Once she was removed from her grandparents’ custody, she lived with her father at Skyhold . She was 14 then. Anyway, her name is based off the Inquisition plant Embrium.  Hudson is an herbalist and I loved the thought that he named his daughter after the plants he found in Ferelden. 

Astrid Thalrassian: This is Fausten’s oldest sister. Like Fausten, she was named after family, specifically Aristide Amell who was Leandra’s father. Astrid is a trans woman and Revka was aware of this early on and encouraged her daughter. Unfortunately, it could not last. After being taken from her mother after being revealed to be a mage, she was arraigned to the Kirkwall Circle. At a tender age, she was put through the Harrowing yet survived. Due to her incredible force of will and nobility, she was on the radar of the Tevinter Imperium for years. Eventually, a plot from the desk of Egnatius Thalrassian, the brother of Dorian’s mother, plucked Astrid from the Kirkwall Circle. There is speculation that Revka Amell may have arranged a marriage. Long story short, ever wonder why the Amell estate might have ended up in the control of slavers? Yes, Gamlen was an idiot, but I think there was more to it. Regardless, Astrid became the apprentice of Egnatius until she obtained Tevinter citizenship and eventually married him, becoming a step-mother to his children.

Also, the name “Astrid” means divine beauty. It is also a common name in the Norweigan royal family line. 

Revanne Amell: This is Fausten’s second oldest sister. Obviously, her name is a combination of Rev- from her mother, Revka, and -anne just to supply a suffix.  In my canon, the Amell family is from Rivain so Revann’s name is sort of a pun also. Fun fact, Anne is derivative of Hannah which is a Hebrew name meaning “favour, grace”. 

She was sent to the Hossberg Circle in the Anderfels. She excelled as a battle mage, but had a penchant for debate. The Hossberg Circle ensured her a position with the Grey Wardens, who were thoroughly impressed. In time, Revann became a respected Warden, traveling as a diplomat representing Weisshaupt throughout Thedas. When Fausten and Revanne meet again, they develop into a great friendship, although they sometimes disagree fundmentally with each other on what Grey Wardens are meant to do. Revanne has been at the center of Weisshaupt politics most of her life and it informs her decisions. 

Ealon Amell: This is Fausten’s younger brother. I have a lot of OCs whose names are deriative from Ilan, a Hebrew name meaning “tree”. Now, it’s a running joke with myself to just keep making new OCs with alternative spellings (right now, I have Ealon. Ea’lin, my Surana. And Ilan, my Adaar, who actually goes by “Veil” mostly). 

As far as his story goes, Ealon was discovered to be a mage and sent to the Starkhaven Circle. By the time, he was growing up Revka was incredibly depressed and had difficulty advocating for her mage children anymore due to the Amell family’s decline. Unfortunately, Ealon was a sickly child and it hurt his skills as a pupil. After Astrid had left to the Tevinter Imperium, a request was put in by the Kirkwall Circle to have Ealon transferre there. Within a year, Ealon was made Tranquil. Clearly, it was an act of vengeance for Astrid’s escape. When Fausten was trying to reconnect with his siblings post-Origins, he was torn apart when he found out what happpened to Ealon because they had been so close as children. Fausten and Dov Hawke worked together to step in and take custody of Ealon and remove him from Kirkwall before the Circles fell. As of now, Ealon lives with his older sister, Revanne, at Weisshaupt. 

Niel Amell: This is Fausten’s youngest sibling. They were the closest with Fausten because he took care of them until he was 8. Niel was taken to the Val Royeux Circle in Orlais. By the time, Fausten tracked them down, Niel still had not gone through their Harrowing yet. With Fausten’s political position, he was able to send letters to Niel and help them through their studies.