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#maybe happiness is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom
lickthecowhappy · 6 months
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I struggled with this one so please be nice to me. I think the prolonged exposure to low grade sadness made me grumpy.
The French text in this poem is taken from Gustave Flaubert’s 1842 novela Novembre.
And for the record, I don't think Crowley is really this much of a sad sack, it's just artistic license.
Translated version is below the cut.
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Deux Langues de Nous
Rhapsodies poétiques,  I stuttered and struggled- laid utterly bare- surrounded by the words of infamous poets,  all fleeing my grasp like timid prey. souvenirs de mauvaises lectures,  How desperate I was to recall any  soliloquy, monologue, or profession of love  crafted so carefully by the human heart. hyperboles de rhétorique,  I could not compare thee to a Summer's day,  nor my love to a red red rose; I only scrabbled for  any stale crumb of affection my mouth could offer. que toutes ces grandes douleurs sans nom,  We couldn't say it, unspoken all those years-  until I put a name to what could have been,  and took “Us” with me when I left. mais le bonheur aussi ne serait-il pas  une métaphore inventée un jour d’ennui?  Perhaps I was not created to be loved,  only to be used and discarded. Cast down  once Love, Herself, tired of me. J’en ai longtemps douté,  For one bitter moment I believed in my  withered soul that you might hold me dear.  How foolish I must have seemed in your eyes. aujourd’hui je n’en doute plus. You and I were speaking two different languages and you were never very good with French. I suppose we both learned that the hard way.
[Translation]
[Two Languages of Us]
[Poetic rhapsodies,] I stuttered and struggled- laid utterly bare- surrounded by the words of infamous poets,  all fleeing my grasp like timid prey. [memories of bad readings,] How desperate I was to recall any  soliloquy, monologue, or profession of love  crafted so carefully by the human heart. [rhetorical hyperboles,] I could not compare thee to a Summer's day,  nor my love to a red red rose; I only scrabbled for  any stale crumb of affection my mouth could offer. [all these great nameless pains,] We couldn't say it, unspoken all those years-  until I put a name to what could have been,  and took “Us” with me when I left. [But maybe happiness too, is a metaphor  invented on a day of boredom?] Perhaps I was not created to be loved,  only to be used and discarded. Cast down  once Love, Herself, tired of me. [I doubted it for a long time,]  For one bitter moment I believed in my  withered soul that you might hold me dear.  How foolish I must have seemed in your eyes. [today I no longer doubt it.] You and I were speaking two different languages and you were never very good with French. I suppose we both learned that the hard way.
Read more of my work here. This poem is also available on AO3.
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zemagltd · 8 months
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Everyday Poetry - "Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom." Gustave Flaubert
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kashilascorner · 5 years
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Read in 2020: Novembre, by Gustave Flaubert
Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom
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jewelrylove · 3 years
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😍😍Vintage Jewelry Antique Gothic Style Skull Rings 😍😍
“Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom”
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dk-thrive · 6 years
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Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom.
Gustave Flaubert, November. (Hesperus Press; Translation edition, February 1, 2005) Originally 1842.
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wepicy · 5 years
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Happiness Quote By Gustave Flaubert, “Maybe happiness too is a metaphor invented on a day of boredom” Gustave Flaubert, - November
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athingofvikings · 7 years
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Chapter 2: The Hero Of Berk
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Chapter 2: The Hero Of Berk
In the popular imagination, the end of the Viking Era is inevitably tied together with the Hero of Berk, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. Despite the hagiographic efforts of both contemporary and subsequent biographers, according to both his own accounts and those of his associates, he was an extremely humble individual throughout his entire life, his journals revealing a man honestly bewildered and disturbed by the adulation.  However, his accomplishments do speak for themselves, as a polymath and inventor whose name has become synonymous with both genius and altruism in the subsequent centuries…
—The Second Flowering Of Yggdrasil: An Analysis Of The Norse Resurgence, 1710
"…and the thralls having abandoned their Queen,
The rock and air split asunder with her rage.
Looming up from the chasm came a head of green…"
Hiccup moaned and slid down in his seat a bit, his cheeks flushing, as Chestnut the Witty declaimed his new saga, "The Hero Of Berk," to the assembled tribe, plus Johann's sailors.  And the whole audience was listening, rapt, to the new verse.  
Astrid just looked at him, a giant grin on her face.  "What's wrong, Hiccup?" she whispered.  "You wanted to be a good Viking, and you've got your own saga now. It's hard to be more Viking than that."  
He squirmed as Chestnut continued singing and beating his drum.
The worst part was that people kept looking at him.  Even the people who had been there, and whose primary actions had been standing on the beach—or, more popular, running away on the beach—were stealing glances at him.  The sailors were worse, though.  He wasn't sure which ones were worst—the ones whose expressions were awestruck, disbelieving, worshipful, or some combination of all of the above.  
"Sacrifice promised, the shield brothers stood, heroic
Bellowing like a forge, smiting blows at the beast,
The smith, Gobber, the Chief, Stoick,
Against the foe that they had released,"
Leaning on Astrid, he murmured, "I just… everyone keeps looking at me.  I'm not used to it.  I feel… exposed."
She smirked and kissed his cheek.  Whispering into his ear, she said, "Hiccup, you're the first dragon rider. You're just going to have to get used to the attention.  But, if you want, I could ignore you for the rest of the poem while I listen to them talk about my boyfriend's heroism.  In verse."  Her smirk grew.  "The last Viking to get that treatment only wounded his dragon, even if he did beat Grendel in an arm-wrestling contest."
He sighed.  "Ha ha.  But all right, I'll be quiet."  Another put-upon teenaged sigh, and he leaned up against Astrid's shoulder, wondering how much embellishment Chestnut had packed into those frantic few minutes.  
Quite a bit, it turned out. He keep squirming as the skald continued.  
Gerta Ingerman, who had once tried to keep Fishlegs away from him on the grounds that Fishlegs still had a hope of being respected by the village, was giving both him and her nephew approving looks as the skald described their entry into the battlefield.
"The Hero leapt to his friend's aid,
braving flaming fire and drowning water,
His companions, astride their own loyal mounts,
fighting to stem the tide of slaughter,
To keep the Green Death from settling accounts,
The unfortunate end to the Dragon War's final raid"
Unable to keep focused on Chestnut, Hiccup continued to look around the room, trying to keep from being too obvious about it… even as he could feel the stares at his back.
Toothless just gave him an odd look with a cock of the head from where he was leaning up against the firepit nearby.  Then, after a moment, the dragon rolled his eyes and went back to listening to the skald. With a blink, Hiccup wondered how much the dragon could understand of what Chestnut was saying…
As he looked around, he spotted people stealing glances at Toothless as well.  And those looks were filled with awe and respect… and more than a little fear, which saddened him.  Most of the village had their own dragons by now—many of which were sitting on high shelves up in the mead hall's room—but the Night Fury was still… scary.
He found himself staring straight into the face of Phlegma the Fierce, who was looking at him with hero worship on her face.  He cowered a bit, remembering how she had treated him before Toothless had come into his life, which usually involved yelling at him and threatening to beat him.
"The sea swallowed the black beast, dark waters surrounding,
Chains an anchor to one that would be truly home in the sky,
His rider and friend fighting to free him, the restrains not budging,
But the cold sea took its due, and the Hero could nay free his ally.
All hope was lost, the Hero and Beast's strength failing,
The Vast Chieftain, Stoick, seeing the Hero, his son, flailing.
Into the water the Chief dove into the sea's grasping cold,
Then the father pulled away his son to the water's threshold."
Hiccup grimaced at the memory.  He hadn't known if his father was going to kill or free Toothless in those terrifying moments.  He gripped Astrid's hand like a lifeline, and her own fingers tightened on his.  Still looking around anxiously, he tried to avoid meeting anyone's eyes…
And failed again.  
Hoark the Haggard, who before had suggested to Stoick that Hiccup be kept chained up inside the chief's house or smithy to keep him out of trouble, was looking at him with so much awe and approval that it was giving Hiccup vertigo.
"Back into the grasping waters dove the Chief,
Eye to eye with the Black Beast, bound in chain.
Reaching forward, the Chief believed, and strained,
For by his choices had the men come to grief.
Shackles broke and cast off, the Dragon took flight,
Bursting forth from the cold dark sea's trove,
The Hero's father carried with, contrite,
Partners in battle, into the sky they drove."
Hiccup listened with half an ear as Chestnut continued, describing their catch of Astrid, which made her tense up as well.  
It was excruciating. The skald stretched each moment out into its own stanza.  The chase by the Green Death down the length of the beach got four.  He remembered when his milk teeth had started falling out three or four years ago, and how they had felt like they had taken forever to work loose.  
At the moment, Hiccup was pretty sure that, given a choice, he would have picked going through losing his baby teeth again over this.  People kept looking at him expectantly, and he wanted to cry, or run away, or scream, or something.  It was worse than waking up from those nightmares where you weren't wearing clothes, because this was real.
At least he had Astrid next to him.  They had settled into a wonderful, ecstatic relationship since he had woken up from the coma after the battle.  He could talk to her, and she understood what he was saying, and they spent hours every day, just… talking.  Talking about dragons.  Talking about his inventions.  Talking about ideas for the village.  Talking about nothing in particular.  
They would race up and down the island, from the beach to the peaks, on their dragons, and neither of them gave the other an inch, and it was everything that he could have dreamed of. More.  
And her brain… he was certain that Freyja, Frigga and Odin had collaborated on her mind.  They would banter, have pun competitions, or ask each other questions to try to stump the other, or just bounce ideas off of each other.
He was aware that they were being extremely mushy-sweet, and didn't care, not one bit, nope, not one single little bit, even if their chaperons were starting to make sarcastic sighs around them.  She was more than his girlfriend.  Next to Toothless, she was becoming his best friend, and, as much as his friendship with the dragon was something he couldn't imagine living without anymore, Toothless wasn't much of a conversationalist, although there was no doubt that the Night Fury could express himself eloquently.  
He had his dragon, and he had his girl, and… honestly, right now, he would have been perfectly happy if they were the only people within a league of him.  
Instead, they were listening intently to the saga.
Not that he could blame them.  He loved sagas.  
Just, it turned out, not ones that he was the central character in.  
With everyone staring at him… he retreated inward instead, just to get away from the looks.  At least he had a place to go, so to speak—his imagination, where he could play with his ideas and inspirations.  It had been the place he'd gone to, where he had thought and imagined, back when the only person who talked with him had been Gobber.  He had many ideas in this place that he fiddled with in idle moments, of oddball little concepts that got committed to paper when he was satisfied with them. And if they were workable, maybe then to wood, leather and steel.  But that was a big If.
War machines, the products of many idle hours of boredom and thought and childhood yearning to be a proper Viking, dominated many of the metaphorical "shelves" in his little mental space.  There were catapults and various odd cousins of the rock slingers, giant mounted ballista warbows inspired by tales of the ancient Romans (including one capable of firing multiple bolts in a minute; he had promised himself that he could make that one work), net launchers, and the bola thrower that he had used on Toothless, as well as spear-throwers, ax-launchers, and one idea that he simply couldn't get rid of for a sword-slinger.
Lately, though, he'd been thinking of more peaceful applications and ideas.  The giant web-net that they'd used to carry the thagomizer over from the Dragon Nest was here as a first visualization, along with the straw-padded and -insulated carry-stack for the dragon-eggs they'd found in the Nest.  
He was also visualizing Berk, the island itself, and how things would be built and where to put things. The dragons themselves were tunneling out space under the village and in the two surrounding peaks for them to roost in, and he'd put several Gronckles and Whispering Deaths to work at carving out a place for the eggs to be brooded and hatched, under the mead hall.  
He had such plans…
Right now, he was just trying to get the dragons to follow the directions.  Whispering Deaths were… touchy, much more so than Gronckles, and getting either of them to dig where he wanted them to dig was… well, he was just glad that he had started his experiments on the main part of the island. It's not like anyone had needed that hill.  
But now he had a general if tricky system of painting the rock with fish juice, and training the dragons to dig for a few feet in a straight line.  
And he didn't want the village to collapse into a sinkhole if they dug too much, like that hill had, so he was being very careful with the size of the chambers they were digging out.  
The world fully tuned out, he started fiddling around in his mind-space with a new idea.  A brittle and thin ball with vent holes… a hot coal mounted there in the middle…
Astrid suddenly poked at him.
"What!?" he yelped, then realized that everyone was looking at him expectantly, and his face suddenly burned as a thousand eyes all focused on him at once.
She hissed in his ear, "Chestnut finished and everyone's waiting for you to accept it!"
Leaping to his feet, he would have overbalanced if not for Astrid's steadying arm on his shoulder.
Heart hammering, he looked at Chestnut, who was looking a little hurt at his lack of attention to the climax of his verse.  "So, uh, Chestnut, thank you so much for composing all of that, especially in just a few months.  It was just like being back there, great eye for detail, you really caught the feel of the moment," he babbled out.  "Uh, so, yes, I accept your saga," he swallowed hard, "with all of my heart, and I much appreciate your effects in commemorating what happened. So, yeah, thank you so much and, oh, yeah, I think it's time for that feast!"  He pointed at the buffet being set out by the cooks, who were also giving him approving looks.  
People applauded and got up from their benches to start in on the food. At least half of them were still staring, though, but that was okay as a forest of tall Vikings rose up around him, which blocked lines of sight.
Attention successfully diverted, he hopped over to Toothless, cheeks still flushed at the humiliation of being stared at.  As people began to clamor over the food, he quickly fled the hall, trying to sneak out as stealthily as someone with a big black dragon and a peg leg that clicked against the stone with every other step could manage.  Or, in other words, not very stealthily.  
He was getting a variety of looks; some of the adults were skeptical, and others were more understanding. Ruffnut, standing near her uncle Chestnut, seemed surprised and disgruntled, while Chestnut himself was still a bit hurt.  His father's face also showed bafflement that turned into understanding as he and Toothless walked to the doors to leave the feast being held in their honor.  And then they were out of the doors and outside.
He hopped onto Toothless's saddle, and muttered, "Let's go, bud."  A rush of Toothless's wings ensued and he and his friend took flight away from the mead hall.  Even as the wind rushed by, Hiccup could feel his ears still burning from embarrassment despite the cool nighttime air.  
No matter how fast or how far they flew as they circled around the island, Hiccup felt like the stares were still digging into his back.  
Hero…
Pride of Berk…
Dragon Lord…
Dragon Conqueror…
Gah!
On their second lap, Astrid and Stormfly came flying up next to them.  
"You feeling okay?" she called out, concern evident in her voice.
"Yeah, never better! I always flee feasts being held in my honor!"
"Hiccup…"
"What?  It's true!  That's the first one, and I've run for it!"
"So what's wrong? Was it the saga?"
He tried to shrug off her gaze, and she continued to look at him with deep concern… and patience.  
He bit his lip as she kept looking at him, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, and then nodded in admission.  "It… just… it seems so silly.  Promise you won't laugh?"
She nodded solemnly.
He nodded.  "Yeah… it was the saga.  Well, not just that.  I feel like a giant fake, and like everyone can see it."
She sighed and edged Stormfly in closer.  "You're going to have to run that by me again, Hiccup," she said gently. Then, with a very slight smirk, she continued, "I don't speak the mirror-heim language."
He blinked at that and then picked it apart.  "Oh. Where up is down, right is left…"
"And a hero is a fake?"
"It's just…" he waved his arms aimlessly, "They're all looking at me like I'm the Hero, and Toothless is the monster, but, without him, we wouldn't have managed at all!"
"Hiccup!  You are the one that's the hero in this whole thing, don't you see that?"
"How can I be? I'm still just the same person I was. The only thing that's changed is Toothless… and they refuse to see him as anything other than a threat."
She just gave him a level look, and called out to the two dragons, "Toothless, Stormfly, let's land. I need to knock some sense into my boyfriend."
Toothless gave an affirmative bark.  The Night Fury banked and went to land by the lower slopes of the village, near the ruined catapults, as Hiccup just squirmed in the saddle.  He could have taken control… but even in his current funk, he could tell that that wouldn't end well.
Hopping off of Toothless, he tried to hide behind his friend's bulk as Astrid slid off of Stormfly. Toothless just gave him a reproachful look, and, with a flap of his wings, jumped over to the other side of the pasture.  As he landed, the sheep gave the two dragons an odd look, but when the two of them just continued to sit there, the sheep went back to chewing grass.
Now exposed, he cringed a bit, and she walked over, arm pulled back, he flinched…
And she hugged him.
And didn't let go of him, either, locking her arms around him, her hands holding onto her own elbows.
"Now, you listen, and you listen good," she said fiercely into his ear.  "If not for you, Toothless would still be doing overwatch and cover fire for raids, we'd be eaten out of house and home, and the Green Death would still be holding the dragons in thrall.  You let a dragon live, you learned to ride them, you were the one that led us to save everyone from the Green Death, and you probably could have done it entirely on your own.  The only thing that the five of us managed was to keep it distracted while you rescued Toothless, and he would have just gotten eaten if not for your guidance, isn't that right Toothless?" she said towards the dragon, who gave an affirmative bark. "See?  Sorry, Hiccup, but you deserve the bulk of the credit.  We may have helped, but you led."
He sagged into her embrace and said, "But… I was just… I… well…"
She patted him on the back. "Uh huh.  You don't say."
"I just… the only looks that people gave me for years—including you!—was annoyance, or anger, or 'Oh, Odin, what did he do now?' or just…" He waved his arms helplessly around the two of them. "Being Hiccup the Useless… That, I know how to handle.  People would look at me like I was a pox or something, but I knew how to handle it.  But attention?  Respect? Hero worship?"  He sighed into her shoulder.  "Nope, no idea, brain no worky."
She laughed and then sobered.  "I'm sorry that you don't know how to handle the attention.  And I'm sorry that I made it worse."  She kissed his forehead.  "I really, really am."
"But we're okay now," he said with a wane smile.  "That's the one thing I can count on.  You don't look at me like I'm some hero out of the sagas.  I know that you'll treat me like… me."
"Except for the part where you flinched because you thought that I was going to hurt you just now, just like you used to get hurt back… before."  She let him go a bit and then held him at arm-length by his shoulders.
"Well, yeah.  You tend to communicate that way.  I get that."
She grimaced. "So it's okay that I can hurt you, just because you think that's how I am?"  She gave a pained sigh.  "Hiccup, no.  I shouldn't get to hurt you because you expect me to."  She gave a pained smile.  "There's a difference between a playful punch and an ass-kicking.  I give you the first, sure, because, yeah, that is how I am… but I gave you the second when I ambushed you at the cove…"  
She took in a deep breath, grimaced, and said in a rush, "And I understand what you're going through.  As much as I can."
"Huh?"
Speaking carefully and in a tone of worried, no, terrified, soul-baring confession, two months of built-up self-recrimination finally bursting forth, she said, "Hiccup, you have every right to hate me.  To look at me like you look at Snotlout.  I treated you… poorly.  For years."  
He made an inarticulate sound of protest, but let her continue.
She paused, swallowed hard, and continued, "Sure, I didn't taunt you like Snotlout and the others did, but I never tried to stop them either. Not once.  And then…" She winced at the memory, "I showed up to bully the secret of how you were doing so well out of you. Because I knew that that would work.  That I could just scare and beat it out of you and then I'd be 'better' than you, that you were somehow cheating.  And now… I'm really angry with myself about that."  
She paused and screwed up her courage for the next admission, because she felt that it would be important for him to hear,  and said, "And I've had a few nightmares over the last few weeks that you'd realize that, that the only time I noticed you before was when you were in my way or screwing up, and that I don't deserve you."
"But—" he started, and she just put her hand over his mouth, gently.  
"I dream that I'm back in that cove… and you stop Toothless from attacking me… and then you say that I'm not worth it and just… fly away.  Like you were already planning to when I showed up.  So the fact that you can look at me like that," she said, indicating with her chin his incredulous expression, "makes me feel like I somehow cheated.  Like you forgave me too easily.  Like the only reason you didn't run away was because you ran after me, the person who was running to tell on you, the one who had just given you a beating, the one that didn't trust you… and I have to ask myself…" she looked at him dead in the eye, "Why didn't you?"  She grimaced and forced herself to ask in a firm tone, "Why didn't you?  You already were going to.  Why did a beating from me change your mind?"
His mouth was hanging open by this point.  "But… I could… no, how could you say that…"
"Because you're a better person than I am!" she said hotly.  "Look at us! You're moping because people are giving you the respect you deserve, and you're feeling all confused, because people never treat you that way, and the closest I can come to showing that I understand that is telling you that I'm feeling all confused because I'm not being treated how I deserve to be, by you!"
"But…"
She squeezed him in her arms.  
"But… you're important to me… how can you even think that I'd just… throw you away because you didn't know better…?"
She smiled weakly at him. "I could ask the same thing. How can you think that we'd just throw you away because now we know better?"
He looked up at her after a few moments with a confused look.  "I… anything I say to you to make you feel better, you're going to turn around on me, aren't you?"
"Yep," she sniffed into his shoulder.
"You're making me argue with myself."
"Yep," she repeated, her eyes a bit wet.
He gave her a look of humorous consternation, his own eyes a bit watery, as that sank in.  "…Cheater."
"Yep.  I needed high-powered help to get it through your thick head," she said fondly, with a bit of a sniffle as he snorted and then gave her a wane, teary smile of his own.  She sniffed again.  "Plus I've been thinking about it a bunch for the last week when I wake up in the middle of the night.  I just… couldn't bring it up because I was scared.  Because I was worried that you'd just go, 'yeah, you're right,' and walk away…"  She gave him a pained smile.  "But you needed to hear it."
He just hugged her, and she leaned up against his shoulder.  
"Hiccup, do you forgive me for being an ass to you for all of those years?"
"How could I not? I was trying to impress you.  Now that I have… oh."
She looked up at the cloudy sky.  "Thank you, Thor, for that little bolt of understanding."
"Ha. Ha."
"If it helps, I promise to not give you the hero worship," she said.  "I'll respect you, I'll be your friend, I'll be your girlfriend, even, but I won't treat you as the return of Beowulf.  Does that help?"
"…oddly, yeah, that does help," he said.  
"Partners?"
"Partners."
"Awesome.  And thank you for forgiving me," she said, leaning in for another kiss, which lasted for a good long moment.
A little while later, as they were sitting on the grass, Toothless's head turned.  A few moments after that, they heard footsteps, and saw Trader Johann walking towards them, a tray laden with food in his hands.  
"You both left before you could eat."  He set the tray on a nearby rock.  "Come, eat, both of you."
They moved over to the rock, and Hiccup found that he was famished, and started industriously eating the bread and meat that Johann had carried out for the two of them.
He looked at them fondly, taking his own seat on the grass.  
"I came by before, but you two were talking and I didn't wish to interrupt you.  Are things going well?"
Hiccup nodded and took Astrid's hand, and she squeezed back.  
"Glad to hear it," the trader said.  "Now, I know that you're expecting me to ask about buying dragons, so I'm not.  I would rather be able to come back next year."
Hiccup nodded and gave the trader a smirk.  "Good instinct."
"Thank you," he said with a nod.  "Instead, I will just say this, Hiccup, for you to consider.  You now possess, as far as I know, the only tamed dragons in the entire world.  Others will hear of this.  Even if I kept my own lips sealed, which I will not, my crew will not be so silent. You now possess the wealth of kingdoms. Figure out how to protect it."
Astrid just looked at him with a skeptical expression.  "So, if the dragons are so valuable, why are you telling us?" she asked, arms crossed in front of her. "Doesn't that mean that you'll have to pay us more for the dragons?  Why tell us how much they're worth?"
"Simple, my lady. Because if your man here manages to maintain his hold, his exclusivity, thanks to my warning, then I hope to be able to find favor with you in the future.  And being one of the few traders who do business with Berk…" he chuckled gamely, "well, that has every possibility to make me a very, very wealthy man.  If you somehow lost control of the dragons, if others managed to do what you have done, well, then my position would not be as strong, and I would not be able to command nearly as high a price, now would I?"
Astrid cocked her head, trying to find a hole in the logic.  
"Aye, I suppose," she said grudgingly after a few moments.  
"Splendid," he said.  "Now, I haven't managed to get people to part with any of their beasts, and, out of respect, I won't try beyond the basic interest questions that I've already done.  This year, at least.  I hope you understand that."
Hiccup nodded.  
"Excellent.  We shall be setting sail tomorrow on the afternoon tide.  I have quite a few people to talk with before then, so, if you'll excuse me…" he stood, patting off his pants.  
As he walked away, he turned back to the two teens.  
"Oh, and Hiccup, my boy?"
"Yes?"
"Keep her close.  You won't find someone who can fence that well with you twice in a single lifetime without Frigga's and Odin's blessings.  And, you, Miss, that goes for you as well.  You've got him, don't let him get away.  He'll be going down in the histories next to the natural philosophers of old, at the very least, and that's not even counting how well you're matched with him personally."
He gave a wide smile and walked up the path, leaving them to their privacy and tray of food.  
Glancing around, Hiccup realized that they were alone on the small piece of pasture.  Astrid just smirked as she came to the same thought. For the first time in… well, quite a while, they had a few moments of privacy, without a chaperon.  That would probably change quickly once someone realized that they were unattended, but…
Astrid just rolled her eyes and grinned at him.  "I don't always like him, but he gives good advice," she said, giving her boyfriend another kiss with a great more enthusiasm than she'd normally feel safe doing in front of one of the ever-watchful adults.  The food could wait, and they'd go back into the mead hall soon enough for more.
###
Ruffnut poked at her plate, as she scowled at the empty seats next to Stoick.
"You going to eat that?" her twin asked, looking at the cut of mutton on the plate with hungry eyes.
"Go get your own," she said, irritated. "There's enough by the kitchens."
"But yours is right here. And you're not eating it," he said, inching his knife over to try to spear the meat.
With a grunt, she stabbed the roast, and carved off a piece, which she then stuffed in her mouth and started chewing vigorously.
Her uncle Chestnut looked over at her. "Something wrong?"
She scowled at him and chewed resolutely. "No."
"Want to try that again? Because you'll be a terrible skald if you can't have your tone match the words that you're saying," he said, waving the point of his knife at her for emphasis, the grease from the chicken breast speared on the end dripping onto the table as he waved it.
Rolling her eyes, she reached out and grabbed the chicken off of the tip of the blade. Tossing it onto Tuffnut's plate, she smiled insincerely at her uncle. "Better?"
He rolled his eyes at her and laughed. "Right. So, Ruff, what's eating you?"
She cocked her head at her brother. "Nothing. I've managed to placate the troll here before he got too hungry."
He snorted and continued, undeterred. "Was it Hiccup?"
"No… maybe… yes," she said, looking down at her plate and mutton. With a sigh, she looked back up at her uncle. "You're not offended? We… you worked on that saga for over a month."
"And you helped, so you're feeling offended too?" he asked wryly. "Tuffnut helped too, and he's fine."
Tuffnut looked up from where he was chewing on the chicken. "Hmm?"
"That's because Tuffnut only has enough brains to feel one thing at a time," she said. "Right now, it's on Hungry. Wait until later for it to change."
Tuffnut made a sound of protest through the mouthful of chicken.
Chestnut pushed over his plate of whipped turnips. "Here, boy, have some more."
Tuffnut gleefully spooned the mashed vegetables onto his plate and kept chewing. As he did so, their uncle looked at them and smirked. "So, Ruff, what, you think that it was a deathly insult?  That he started a feud with us and we shall have to call him to account for such a dire and deep dismissal?"
She stuck her tongue out at him as he waggled his eyebrows.  "Haha, Uncle.  Very droll."
"But you are feeling insulted.  So maybe while you're not going to challenge him to a duel for your pride and honor, you are angry with him."  He leaned in. "Aren't you?"
"I… yeah," she said, drooping a bit. "He just ignored most of the saga, and then ignored you, and then left! And w—you worked so hard on it!" She stabbed hard at the slab of mutton and carved off another piece angrily.
Before Chestnut could say anything in response to that, Snotlout suddenly appeared at his shoulder. "Hey, so what gives with giving me such a small mention in the saga? I'm the only one that actually smacked that monster! Everyone else kept away!"
Chestnut just turned and looked at the pint-sized Viking with a raised eyebrow. "Snotlout. I was telling Hiccup's saga. Not yours. And while that deed was impressive, it was an act of desperation, and then you spent the rest of the time trying not to fall off. If you want me to mention one, I will mention the other. Is that acceptable?"
"Um…" Snotlout seemed to actually pause and consider. "Uh… no, it's fine as is, then." He then turned to Ruffnut and… well, while she was certain that he was trying to smile, it still came out as a leer. "So, Ruff… um… I know that you're practicing to be a skald. Think that you could compose something for me?"
She started to tell him to get lost… and then had another idea. Holding up her hand for a moment's thought, she cleared her throat while Snotlout looked on in anticipation.
"Little pup with little paws, lout yap from loud jaws,
Look at me, look at me! The pup slobbers snot—"
And that was as far as she got before Snotlout walked off in a huff.
Uncle Chestnut just watched him go with an amused expression, and then turned back to her. "Oh, he's not going to forgive you for that one."
She snorted and gave an irked look at Snotlout's retreating back. "Don't get my hopes up, Uncle. With Astrid off of the market, I'm practically the only girl in the village near his age that's still available."
Chestnut opened his mouth to reply and then closed it slowly. He was clearly running names through his head. His kids, her cousins, were either older or younger than her, and he apparently hadn't thought too much on it. She just took another bite of her mutton. Tuffnut, having finished eating his own chicken and the whipped turnips, popped the entirety of Chestnut's stolen chicken breast into his mouth and started chewing.
Loudly.
She rolled her eyes and shifted over a bit on the bench, away from him.
A sigh from across the table made her look back at her uncle. Chestnut had a sheepish look on his face and then gave a pained shrug. "All right, point taken." He glanced in Snotlout's direction and then back at her.
Before he could say anything, though, Hiccup and Astrid reentered the mead hall, holding hands and looking sickeningly sweet; it was the sort of look that made it very clear that they were not really seeing anyone else in the mead hall aside from each other. Ruffnut just sighed as the pair of them walked over to the food, saccharine grins on their faces, and carved off another piece of her roast with perhaps a touch more force than was strictly needed.
Her uncle paused and then a slow smile crossed his face. "Oh ho. I see."
She just looked up at him with a glare. "See what?"
"Feeling a touch jealous, dear niece?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. He just kept looking at her expectantly. Next to her, Tuffnut audibly tried to swallow the chicken, and then started choking.
She sighed and, without breaking the stare with her uncle, reached out to her left and made a fist. As she thumped her idiot brother on the back to try to dislodge it, Chestnut just kept looking at her with a level stare and a knowing smirk.
Thump.
After three or four solid thumps, Chestnut just put his elbows on the table and then his chin onto his hands and said, conversationally, "Well, let's see. Outside of the clan, how many boys your age are there?"
She just glared at him and gave Tuffnut an even more solid thwack! on the back.
He pitched forward, and hacked up a mass of chewed chicken about the size of her fist onto his plate and started coughing.
Chestnut, completely unperturbed, just said, "There's Hiccup. Snotlout. And Fishlegs. At least in your cohort." He ticked off fingers in thought. "There are some boys in the year after you…"
She shook her head. "Thanks, but they're both Jorgensons. So no thanks." She just kept thumping Tuffnut on the back—it was a great excuse to hit him, even if he didn't need it anymore.
He nodded ruefully. "And older than you…"
"Either in the clan, or married already," she said bluntly. "Unless we want to get much older than me." Tuffnut was turning bright red, and then hacked up another gob of chewed meat before falling backwards off of the bench.
She glanced at him, and then at her uncle, with an expression of long-suffering torment.
He snorted.
On the floor next to her, Tuffnut was moaning.
"Uhhh…"
"If you die, I get the room to myself," she said nastily.
"Uh uh," he managed to get out, and heaved himself to a sitting position again… with a little too much speed, and whacked his face into his plate.
Chewed chicken covering his face, he slumped back onto the floor, groaning, but he was breathing again. Chestnut was trying to hold back a laugh, as were several other people.
"I hurt. I very much hurt," her brother groaned.
She applauded and he just gave her a look of irritation from where he was lying on the ground.
"That'll teach you to eat like you're a pig at the trough. Of course, given that you stink like one—"
"Did you just call yourself a pig's sister?" he said, grunting as he hauled himself back to a sitting position.
"I can't help if you were switched at birth," she said caustically.
Sticking his tongue out at her, he picked up his plate and walked off to the kitchens to get more.
Chestnut snorted. "So, where were we?"
"I don't know where you were, Uncle, but I was eating," she said, and started to carve another piece of her roast.
He made another bark of laughter. "Despite the table manners of your brother, even. So, dear niece, what's your issue with Hiccup? That he wasn't listening to the saga? Or that he isn't interested in you?"
She glared at him. Yes, when Hiccup had gone to the dragon pens to fly after the rest of the tribe, she'd called him crazy, and she liked that… but he'd made his preference very clear.  He and Astrid were being disgustingly cute… and, well, yeah, she was jealous.  Not of her… but of them.
So she deflected, and shook her head.  "He just blew off your saga entirely, Uncle."
He quirked an eyebrow at her, and giving her the distinct impression that he could see right through her, and then shook his head. "Oh, I'm still a bit irked at him, but I understand why he acted that way."
"Huh? Why?"
He shrugged and said, "Well, since someone cleaned off my plate, I'm going to go get more, but I'll ask you this much, Ruff…" He picked up his plate just as Tuffnut came back with a plate loaded with a mound of food. "When has Hiccup ever had any practice with having the entire village looking at him in awe instead of irritation?"
She paused for a moment… and then started to think.  
After stealing a piece of roast mutton from her brother's plate.
He glared at her, and she shrugged and cut herself another piece of roast. Chewing, she looked around the room. Johann had come back in from wherever he'd gone, and Mildew had cornered him. They were talking intently, Mildew waving his arms around angrily, his face all tight and more wrinkly from his peeled-back lips, and then the old hermit stalked off in a huff.
She wondered what that was all about, and then dismissed it.
And thought as she ate. If nothing else, it gave her a distraction from watching the food vanish from her brother's plate.  She had an appetite too, and had 'enjoyed' her own growth spurt over the last few months, but this was absurd.  And given the way that Tuffnut moaned and groaned, she was sure that he was overstuffing himself for some stupid boy reason.
So she thought on her uncle's question.  
And didn't like too much on the answers that she was finding.  It was so much easier to be irked at Hiccup.
She was just remembering how uncomfortable he'd been after dragon training when her uncle sat back down.
"Any thought on my question?  Or are you not blind enough in your left eye to be able to ignore that?" he asked, cocking his head towards her brother.  
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah… I did.  It's no fair for you to shoot questions like that and then run, Uncle."
He snorted and smirked. "On the contrary, it's a wonderful tool for a skald.  Let people beat themselves up rather than doing it yourself."  He shrugged. "Look, Ruffnut, if you're going to be a skald, you have to recognize that some people, as weird as it sounds, don't know how to deal with being a hero." He spooned up some mashed turnips and ate them, and then shrugged again before picking up a drumstick. "When you were a baby, we had a terrible series of raids on the village, and Stoick went out there and fought and killed many dragons. I composed a saga to immortalize it… and I found him weeping outside of the hall when I was done reciting it."
Ruffnut blinked and leaned in. "Huh? Why?"
"Because, as he told me, I had seen all of the great victories and defeated enemies at his feet… but I had missed the ones that he had failed to protect." He grimaced. "Including his wife. So all he could hear me sing about was how he wasn't good enough." He took a bite out of the drumstick and pointed it at her for emphasis. "I should have known that his son would be cut from the same cloth."
She cocked her head at him. "But we didn't lose anyone," she said.
"Oh, I know. But do you think that Hiccup's not having the same kind of self-judgment running through his head? We've all been looking down at him for years." He took another bite from the drumstick. As he chewed thoughtfully, he said through the mouthful, "I wonder what it was that set him off. Because, yes, we didn't lose anyone… but he's hardly battle-hardened." He shrugged and swallowed his mouthful.
Ruffnut just looked at her uncle. "So you're… not angry?"
"Irritated, yes, but no, not angry.  Like I said, I should have known that he'd react like that." He looked at her thoughtfully and then smirked.  "So you can admit that you're jealous of them without worrying about me being offended."  
She looked down at her plate and cut a large piece of the roast to buy herself some time.  
"So… do you like him, Ruff?" Chestnut asked bluntly.
Ruffnut grimaced. "Well, yeah. He's crazy, but in a good way. He might not have thews, but he's got a brain that thinks all sideways.  I mean… he could look better, but he could bulk up working on the iron at the smithy.  Plus he's got nifty scars and the peg to show off.  What's not to like?"
"Except that you're not actually that interested, are you?"
She rolled her eyes. "But… really, I… well… his mind is the only thing he's really got going for him.  He's all thin and scrawny and thinks about making stuff.  I'm just…"
"Just what?"
She sighed and then gave a sidelong look around the room, trying to avoid her uncle's eyes.  She adored him, but he liked to meddle too much.  Usually, that was cool—he'd saved her and Tuffnut from a few thrashings when they were younger—but when he thought that you were being an idiot… well…  She sighed again, making him smirk.  After a few more heartbeats of glaring at him, she said, "Just… well… choice between him and Snotlout, I'll take him, thank you."  
"So you don't really like him, he's just the better option?"
There were days when Ruffnut really, really hated that ancient philosopher's book that Chestnut had from somewhere.  She gave a harsh sigh of exasperation.  "Yeah, maybe there might have been something there, but being honest, I'm just not liking him that much in that way—and definitely not like how Astrid likes him.  I'm just…" She gave a deep shrug.  "Well, like I said.  I'd rather pick him over Snotlout."  Besides, she thought to herself, glancing at her brother, currently chewing with his cheeks bulging out on either side and eyes glazed like a sheep chewing cud, Hiccup probably wouldn't be interested in having Tuffnut as a brother-in-law. And… I can't really blame him for that.  She just sighed.  
Chestnut laughed. "What about the Ingerman boy, Fishlegs?"
"What about him? If Hiccup's too scrawny, he's too fat for me." she said with a shrug. She liked Fishlegs a bit as a former playmate, and someone that you could always snag a bit of parchment and ink from.  His one good thing in her view was that he had a good ear for meter and rhyme. But then he had to go and ruin it by writing it down, and she knew that he was keeping his best stuff hidden away instead of singing it for everyone to enjoy. And that was just selfish. Bragi shared his music and poetry for the world to hear. Fishlegs… just shut it away behind the covers of a book.
Still… if it came down to it… better him than Snotlout.  At least he respected her.  
Her uncle snorted. "Aye, he's an odd duck."  
She blinked and then pouted and scowled at her uncle, who just gave her a sunny smile in response. It was no fair when he did that 'I know what you're thinking' trick of his.
He nodded his head back and forth.  "Then again, you're not exactly spoiled for choice.  Unless you want to duel Astrid for Hiccup, there aren't many other young men near your age."
She shrugged. "Eh, well, there's always the other tribes in the area, right?" Right? Someone that doesn't know Tuffnut exists? Or at least hasn't heard how gross he is?
He shrugged back. "Maybe.  Eh, well, either way, it's a bit off in the future. You've still got until next Thawfest before you've seen enough winters to even start considering."
Ruffnut sighed. She didn't really want to get married, honestly, although that was more because the local guys around her age were… well, maybe she'd find someone from another village that could look at her like Hiccup looked at Astrid.
She just remembered walking in on the two of them at the old training pit the week before. She'd been half-hoping that she could have interrupted them doing something naughty… but instead, she'd walked into the middle of a pun war. Astrid. Punning. Ruffnut had been shocked that the other girl had even had it in her. It had been so unlike the blunt and aggressive shieldmaiden that she knew that she'd dropped the roll of leather she'd been carrying in in shock. And then, when they had both looked at the noise, it had been like a door closing on Astrid's face, and she was back to… normal? And she'd given them the leather and left, and snuck around the top of the pit, eavesdropping, and, a few minutes later, they were back at bantering.
It was like there were two Astrids… the one that she knew, the blunt, perfectionist, and, well, rather nasty shieldmaiden… and the one that only came out around Hiccup. Who was apparently much nicer and much wittier.
And now… having heard them banter like that, as friends, Ruffnut just… wanted that for herself. Maybe not with Hiccup, or Fishlegs, but with someone.
Tuffnut swallowed loudly and then belched.  
She gave him a sidelong look and sighed slightly. Yeah. Sure. She'd get a cute boyfriend that looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world and could banter with her. Suuuure. They'd just have to be blind in the right eye so that they couldn't see her twin's table manners.
Carving off another piece of mutton, she popped it into her mouth and chewed resolutely. Swallowing, she looked at her uncle. "Well, I think I'll have an easier time finding someone than trough-mouth here." She elbowed her brother just as he was stuffing more food into his mouth.
He choked again and she gave him a solid thump on the back to dislodge it, smiling cheerfully.
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Author’s Note: I wrote the first draft for this chapter back in November 2016 for NaNoWriMo.  Back then, I thought, “Oh, yeah, I can write this story in 100k words.”
Scrivener’s current compiled word count as of this posting?  398,228... and counting.
Like Tuffnut, I may have bitten off more than I can chew.  :D
Unlike him, I have better table manners.  New chapters will post weekly on Sundays.  *smirk*  I think I have enough of a buffer... ;)
Read and review, please!
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