Chapter 8: Forwards

Stumbling through the open door of Gothi's hut, Astrid grit her teeth and hissed in pain as she inched it shut and leaned back against it. Closing her eyes, she clutched her axe with trembling hands and greedily gulped air into her aching lungs. Her entire body felt as though she'd been bashed against the cliffs for hours on end, and the flaring pain in her shoulder nearly brought tears to her smoke-reddened eyes. As her breathing began returning to normal, she sank to her knees and slowly made her way to the small cot that had been her bed for the past few nights.

There was a rustling sound, small footsteps accompanied by a sharp wooden knock. Gothi. Astrid placed her axe to the side and let herself fall, landing on her left side with a grimace. Looking up, she saw Gothi's thunderous expression and withered beneath it. Opening her mouth to apologize, no words left her parched throat. She swallowed dryly and tried again to no avail, managing only a pained grunt.

Gothi bustled around hurriedly, gathering a bowl and ladling a small amount of already warm soup from the merrily bubbling pot set over her hearth. With a speed that belied her age and build, she was at Astrid's side and guiding the bowl to the exhausted teen's lips. Still wearing her disapproving scowl, she made sure that all the soup was gone before retreating back to the pot.

With a sigh of relief, Astrid licked her lips and spoke in a quiet voice. "Sorry… should have stayed… had to help." She cracked a smile at the irritated huff that was the only form of reply, and took the newly refilled bowl of soup when it was offered. Sipping the faintly chicken-flavored broth slowly, she sat up and gingerly unbuckled the armor covering her wounded shoulder.

Why there had been an attack so soon after the last one, Astrid couldn't fathom. I suppose after weeks of peace we should have expected to be hit hard. Berk was caught by surprise, and she—injury or no injury—had donned her armor and leapt into the fray. Despite being abnormally long, it was a fairly normal battle as far as battles went; some stuff blew up, a bunch of food was stolen, and the Dragon Master flew around and diligently ruined everything. She hadn't managed to get a good swipe at him this time as he had never landed, but she grudgingly admitted that with her shoulder still hurt, it might have been for the best.

Sneaking away from Gothi was probably the most dangerous part of the raid, she thought, as the older woman finished redressing her shoulder. After a moment of stillness, Gothi took her staff and 'gently' rapped Astrid over the head with it. Astrid, a rueful grin on her face, nodded and continued to drink her soup.

Rationally, Astrid knew that she really shouldn't push herself any further past the point of injury. Her shoulder was healing, and it had more function than it had yesterday. Granted, the wound was not as bad as it had looked or felt at first, but she still needed to take it easy and not go rushing off into strenuous situations.

As Astrid removed the rest of her armor, she reconciled with the fact that she would probably do exactly the same thing during the next raid, injury or no injury. Astrid Hofferson did not sit back as others fought for her home, she did not lie there as people she knew risked their lives.

But you did, remember? A small voice in her head sneered. You let Hiccup die at the claws of that Night Fury that still rules the skies.

Astrid's mouth tightened into a thin line. She hated that little voice in her head. She knew it was right, but it had happened once, and it would never happen again.

The soft rays of the morning sun filtered through the wooden shutters of Gothi's hut. The small motes of dust floating lazily on the ribbons of light that fell upon Astrid's face were driven into a frenzied dance by her groggy, haphazard swipe of protest. No amount of irritated hand movements would dissuade the sun's wake-up call however, and, after scrunching up her face and grumbling at the unfairness of it all, she opened her eyes and forced her stiff and sore body to sit up.

With a huff of annoyance, Astrid stood and began stretching her aching limbs. Given her shoulder and the abnormally long fighting she wasn't exactly surprised, but she didn't have to like it. As her blood began flowing she could feel her muscles loosening, and an involuntary sigh of relief escaped her lips. As much as she didn't enjoy her reduced level of activity, sleeping in had its perks. A small smile weaved its way onto her mostly healed face, and she took a few moments to just be.

A tap on her shoulder brought Astrid out of her reverie. Beginning to undo the bandages on her shoulder with a slight frown, she turned to face Gothi and dropped down to one knee. The older woman smiled and took the old dressing, placing it off to the side and leaning in to inspect Astrid's wounded shoulder. Concentrating on her breathing, Astrid waited patiently and sent silent prayers that Gothi would let her go. It's not like she was a prisoner here, but Gobber's words of warning and Gothi's disapproval of any taxing physical activity had left her spending most of her time wandering the forest or thinking in Gothi's hut. She usually didn't spend so much time contemplating her actions, but Gobber's worry seemed to have rubbed off on her on this occasion, making her doubt herself.

Gobber… She needed to talk to him. He had seemed very worried after his conversation with Spitelout and Stoick. Having spent much of her time deliberating her options, Astrid had decided on trusting Gobber and working even harder to prove herself to those who believed her to be a dragon sympathizer of all things. Dragons had caused her uncle Finn's death and family's disgrace, they had killed Hiccup, they attacked her home regularly, and she'd been fighting them since she could lift a bucket of water (much to the resigned terror and quiet pride of her mother). Now suddenly because she hasn't managed to kill a Night Fury, which nobody has managed to do in Viking history, thank you very much, she was suddenly on their side?

Slowly rotating her shoulder at Gothi's mimed request, Astrid winced slightly. Fine. They wanted to 'observe' her to see what she did? Let them. She'd fought last night despite her injury, she and Ruff had even managed to net a Zippleback and secure it before the Dragon Master could show up and free it. Stoick had given her a tight but approving nod and Snotlout had immediately tried to chat her up again. She'd left him tied up to a torch.

As Astrid's shoulder was redressed, one thought that had become common resurfaced to eat away at her, refusing to be put down. The Dragon Master had saved her. She'd come to realize that it was irrefutable. She'd been falling, probably would have died given her condition, and he'd grabbed her and brought her back to Berk. And no matter how much she chewed it over, it simply didn't make sense. Dragons didn't save Vikings. This one, and his rider, did. Was the rider the difference? Maybe. Or perhaps the Night Fury recognized her and was trying to apologize? Could dragons even feel remorse?

Astrid shook her head and growled softly to herself, prompting a raised eyebrow from Gothi. Smiling at the healer, she inclined her head in thanks and spoke.

"So, am I free to go?"

Gothi nodded and scowled good-naturedly, gesturing to her shoulder. The meaning was pretty clear: 'Don't make it worse'.

Nodding and pushing an expression of sincerity on her face, Astrid conceded the point. "I'll be careful, I promise." She'd still fight in the next raid, and the knowing look on Gothi's face led her to quickly turn away and begin gathering up her armor. Donning each piece with practiced ease, she hefted her axe and made her way to the door.

"Thanks, for patching me up." Astrid turned and gave Gothi a small bow. The simple, kind smile in response coaxed out a smile of her own. One final nod in thanks, and she walked out into the not-quite-warm sunlight bathing the landing. The smell of smoke lingered over the village, and she could see people moving about and working to repair the damage.

Gobber would be in the forge.

Twirling her axe to expel the sudden excess of nervous energy, Astrid set off towards the village proper. The limited amount of time she'd been around Stoick hadn't been that bad. Granted she'd avoided him like the plague, but he hadn't sought her out to address the situation. She wasn't even supposed to know that there was a situation. The lack of confrontation had done nothing to alleviate her apprehension, and with all the sitting around she'd done, she felt that something had to be done.

Gobber's work was a quiet affair. The loud clanging of metal on metal was still there, the wheeze of the bellows and the roar of the flames still complemented one another tit for tat, but things that should be there simply weren't. There was no whistling. No off-key singing. No sassy banter that came from the years of familiarity and friendship between master and apprentice. Gobber hammered away in silence, one job to the next. Occasionally he would find himself holding his hand out expectantly only to look up and sag noticeably. Astrid always tried to be looking somewhere else when that happened. Old habits die hard, she supposed.

As she approached the forge, Gobber's eyes rose to meet her own and Astrid felt a modicum of the tension that had been building up over the last couple of days wash away. His gaze was tired, but the smile that came with it was one of reassurance and comfort. She trusted him; he understood her pain and shared in it.

The smith nestled his current labor, some manner of arm-length, shallow metal trough, back into the glowing coals. Exchanging his detachable tongs for the more conversation-friendly mug, he gestured to the back of the smithy and ambled his way there himself.

Astrid followed with mild trepidation. She needed to talk to him, this she knew, but she needed someone to confide in. A smaller, more sinister part of her mind whispered stories of needing someone with influence on her side, but she shoved those thoughts down with brutal force. She didn't scheme, or avoid the enemy. No. She would prove that she was not sympathetic to the dragon cause, and that she would fight and kill any dragon and their allies… Except…

"Glad ta see ye up an-" Gobber began as he sat down amongst the scattered papers strewn about the study, only to be interrupted.

"The Dragon Master saved my life." The statement hung in the air, lifting the proverbial weight from Astrid's chest. Well that was easy, she thought to herself with a humorless mental laugh.

Blinking at the rather sudden outburst, Gobber nodded. "Aye, so Spitelout's boy says." He took a sip from his half-filled tankard before continuing. "The part where you're not denyin' it is interestin' though."

"It happened. I don't know why, and it makes no sense, but it did." Astrid shrugged. "I'm not a liar. Besides, I trust you. I need to talk about this with someone, and you're probably my best choice."

With a grunt, Gobber gestured to the other readily available stool in a wordless invitation to sit. "Go on then, lass, I'm all ears."

Taking a deep breath, Astrid sat. She forewent setting her axe down, the familiar weight gave her a measure of comfort, of control. Instead, she opted to gaze at the intricately carved and etched patterns that adorned the weapon as she recounted the fight.

Throughout the tale, Gobber remained silent. He nodded where appropriate, took the occasional drink, and listened with rapt attention.

"…He kicked me in the chest and I lost my footing. Ended up falling over the cliffs half-unconscious." Astrid frowned at the memory. It was hazy, and as much as she had tried to recall every last detail, they continued to slip away. "It's all very fuzzy, but… I was falling, then I wasn't, then I woke up in Gothi's hut. The only possible explanation, barring the direct intervention of the gods, is that the Dragon Master grabbed me and brought me back to Berk."

Astrid forced her eyes, previously locked on her axe's blade, to look up at the pensive Gobber. "I almost killed him. I should have killed him. I hesitated when he stopped his Night Fury from attacking me and got kicked off a cliff for my trouble. I'm not his friend, I'm not on his side, why did he save me?"

Gobber raised his eyebrows and leaned forwards slightly. "You sure tha' ye aren' his friend? Take away the battle part and you two could be married with tha' kina behavior."

…Excuse me?! Astrid's face contorted with disbelief and outrage. Energy coursed into her limbs and she stood faster than she had thought possible, gripping her axe in one hand with such force that it trembled.

Before she could speak however, Gobber had raised both hands and flashed her a smile. "Alrigh' now, no need ta have a punch-up. I believe ya, lassie." With an apologetic grin, he motioned for her to return to her seat. "I had to ask. But yer reaction was pretty convincing. Look," he sighed, taking another drink from the nearly empty vessel, "the Jorgensons are up in arms over this. Stoick was jus' startin' to come round but now he is wary of ye as well. Again. The rumors 'ave already started to spread and they are only gonna get nastier. Yeh've got ta go about settin' things straight or it's not gonna matter whether you're tellin' the truth because nobody will believe that you are."

There was a loud, rhythmic banging in the front of the smithy that caused Astrid to jump. Oh wonderful. Jumping at someone knocking on a door. She leaned in, speaking quickly to maximize her limited time with Gobber's ear. "I'm going to refute his claims that I'm on their side, I think my reputation will have enough clout to pull that off." She hesitated for a second before forging on. "What do I do about the part where he saved me?"

"Eh, marry 'im. He's got a soft spot for ye, might be able to stop all this." Gobber stood and stretched, reaching out to lay his good hand on her shoulder. "Seriously though, it's probably best to just tell the truth: tha' you have no clue why."

With a final, encouraging nod, Gobber bid her farewell and went to deal with whomever was at the front. Astrid elected to stay in the safe space for a while longer. The muffled conversation faded into the background as she retreated into her own mind, her eyes lazily wandering around the slightly dusty room.

Much of the walls were lined with various tools and knick-knacks. Some shone brightly, others were rusted or broken beyond what Astrid considered salvageable. Other patches were relatively clutter-free but by no means barren, covered with sheets of parchment that sported all manner of technical drawings. Intricately detailed with notes written in a startlingly familiar hand. She recognized that hand; it had helped teach her how to read when she was younger.

Hiccup.

Standing abruptly, Astrid walked over to the parchment-strewn walls, her eyes widening at the designs that were so carefully sketched. Throwing machines, ideas for replacement limbs that were more than just lumps of wood, a very small sketch of what looked like a ribbed sail, and many more. Some were rough concepts; others were meticulously laid out construction plans with proposed measurements and everything. You really were quite clever, weren't you? She thought, as she lightly ran her fingertips over one of the newer notes, chuckling lightly at the words written there.

'Latest prototype destroyed by Monstrous Nightmare after successful test. Upside: recalibration is no longer an issue.'

Astrid bowed her head, letting her hand fall to her side. For the millionth time, she apologized within the confines of her own mind, hoping that the gods would carry her message to Hiccup as he feasted in Valhalla. Or, at the very least, tell him he was missed.

After a few more moments of stillness, Astrid nodded absentmindedly to herself. Taking a breath, she gripped the haft of her axe tightly for a moment, as if to reassure herself that it was still there. Come on, Astrid. You've got work to do. With one last look and a sad smile, she backed out of the little back room.

And bumped straight into Stoick, who was engaged in casual conversation with Gobber.

There are tales told by warriors of times when time seems to slow to a crawl. Astrid herself had experienced this during her time facing dragons in battle. As Stoick turned towards her with eyebrows raised, she felt it again. She knew the reaction was absurd, Stoick was not one of those chief's that screamed at their tribe, nor one who ruled unjustly and sentenced disproportionate punishments for small transgressions. Nevertheless, her heartbeat quickened, her spine straightened, and she set her jaw with a smile that she sincerely hoped didn't seem too forced.

Stoick remained silent for several seconds. Gobber's eyes shot back and forth between the two, his eyebrows rising further as the silence dragged on.

When Stoick did speak, it was clipped, but polite. "Astrid."

"Chief." Astrid responded in kind with a slight bow. "Sorry about that. Gotta go."

Gobber watched as Astrid stiffly marched away. He understood the jittery attitude that had overtaken much of her now limited interactions with Stoick. She shouldn't have to deal with anything like this, he thought as he turned back to his chief. Her problems should involve men being boys, and dragons being dragons, not men (or whatever it was) riding dragons.

"I'm really not sure what te think about her, Gobber." Stoick's voice had taken on a subdued tone. "She has been so driven to avenge Hiccup, and rightly so. Now the Jorgensons claim that she sympathizes wi' the dragons, but I've yet to see anything like that from her. If she was a sympathizer, she'd lie to cover it up, fight dragons to lull us into believing her." He looked up at his friend, the different beliefs warring in his eyes as he sought council. "Is she that good of a liar?"

With a roll of his eyes, Gobber shook his head. "I've been tellin' ye this whole time, Stoick: she's a young'n who couldn't beat a Night Fury."

Stoick's gaze hardened, his mouth opening to rebuke the point he knew Gobber was about to make.

Pointing his regrettably empty mug attachment at Stoick, Gobber spoke first. "Nuh-uh. You came ta me fer advice now shut up an' listen to it ya great big lug." Not even allowing the opportunity for an interruption, he pressed on. "As much as it hurts me too, Hiccup is gone. It's nae her fault. Had you yourself been there ye'd likely have both died because you woulda been too stubborn to run when things went south."

A growl emanated from Stoick's vast frame. "Astrid is a capable warrior, if she supports the rider and its dragons, then she left my boy to die! If I had been there at least he would have made it out while I fought it off. We're Vikings, we protect the heir of the tribe, we don't leave him behind."

Gobber gave Stoick a pointed look. "'A chief protects his own' is what you're always sayin' isn't it? Hiccup was going to be chief one day, and he protected his own." Leaning forward and frowning, he felt his hackles beginning to rise. Come on you yak-headed mountain, see sense. "He loved tha' girl. With all his tiny wee body, he loved her. Are you seriously tellin' me that had it been you and Valka in the same position, you wouldna' have done everything to make sure she got away safe?"

The argument Gobber had crafted, and was quite proud of mind you, only managed to anger Stoick further. "That's different! Hiccup had been doing well in the arena but he wasn't a fighter. Astrid is, but she ran!"

"Ran my right foot, she hobbled back here with a melted axe and a cracked skull. Tha's the Astrid I trained! She ain't run then, she ain't runnin' now. You just canna' see it because you're too blinded by your grief!"

"Both of which she coulda' gotten be cooperating with the Dragon Master! Melted axe, use the Night Fury. Cracked skull? Small wound to suffer in order to gain our trust."

"You really think she'd do tha'? Her parents would support tha'? Have you met Astrid?!"

"The Hofferson's have nothin' to do with this, children do all sorts of things without their parent's knowing!"

"Yeh, runnin' out in the woods or nickin' extra candied nuts, not treason. She's not some conniving coward conspiring to carefully construct cordial charades calculated to cloak these claimed 'crimes'!"

Silence followed the particularly verbose statement, as Stoick looked incredulously at the slightly slack-jawed Gobber. A few seconds passed, before they both burst into hearty laughter. The tension that had lain thick in the air melted away in the face of their shared mirth.

"When, in Odin's name, did you change professions from a swordsmith to a wordsmith?"

"Ey, tha's yer twig of a boy's fault." Gobber clapped a hand on Stoick's shoulder and smiled. "He seems to 'ave rubbed off on me a wee bit." With a sigh, he offered a squeeze of comfort to his friend. "Look, Stoick, I miss him too. But ye canna' take it out on tha' poor girl, she beats herself up about it enough as is."

Stoick took a deep breath, and looked for a second like he was going to argue. Instead, he let it out in a wordless sigh, his mask falling to leave the weary, grieving father behind. "Yer righ' Gobber. Yer righ'."

A sympathetic grimace adorned Gobber's face as he wrapped his arm fully around Stoick's shoulders and began to lead him towards the main hall. "Come on, we'll drink to 'im."

Together they exited the smithy. Walking out into the sunlight, they headed up the hill to the largest hall on Berk. A drink - well, many drinks - lay in their future. Drinks, praise for a fallen boy, and, albeit slowly, healing as time marched ever onward.

"You should burn his hall down."

"Ohh. Oh. Better, let us do it."

"Or at least watch."

"Is there a way we can involve chickens?"

"We could strap torches to them and have them run thr-"

"Okay stop!" Astrid's forceful but muted shout cut through the twins' rapid back and forth in a vain attempt to reintroduce some semblance of sanity. One or two nearby patrons of the hall gave her a look, but most paid them no mind. Shouting Vikings in during a meal, not like anybody had ever heard of that. "I'm not burning down the Jorgenson's hall, and neither are you. Or you, for that matter."

Both twins visibly deflated at the notion of not being able to watch something burn. Astrid was fairly certain that they wouldn't have actually done it, but better safe than singed. She took her half-eaten roll and chucked it at Ruffnut as she spoke.

"Guys, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I don't want to burn Snotlout's house down."

In the face of two equally disbelieving looks, Astrid rolled her eyes and amended her statement. "Okay, I kinda do, just a little, but I'm not going to. I need to know what you guys think about this whole… thing."

Satisfied, if a little put out by that declaration, the twins looked at one another. Astrid was sure that an argument took place, even though no words were said. After a couple of seconds of conversational silence between the three of them, they looked at her with lightly furrowed brows and spoke.

"We believe you," Ruffnut started, "I'd take your word over Snotlout's any day."

"That said," Tuffnut supplied, "we've no idea what in hel is going on. Dragons, or the demon who rides them, don't help us."

"If you say you aren't on their side, again we believe you. But… we'd really like another explanation. Preferably one that makes sense, Tuffnut."

"Hey, an Astrid clone riding the Night Fury totally makes sense. You're just too dense to appreciate my genius."

Ruffnut rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out with a bleh sort of noise, prompting a giggle from Astrid. Her expression sobered as the twins resumed eating, giving her expectant looks. Biting her lip, she idly flicked the last bit of chicken across her plate.

"I… don't know. I'm with you guys, it doesn't make any sense." Setting her jaw, Astrid looked up at the two others. "I don't know, but I want you two to help me find out."

Tuffnut, who had not just taken a rather large bite, nodded enthusiastically. "Great plan." After a second, his face adopted a look of confusion. "How do we do that?"

"I've gotten him on the ground before, we just have to net him." Astrid could see the fight happening in her mind's eye. Net flying over, one warrior separates the first threat from the second. One head from another. "We're going after two heads, same plan as a Zippleback. Net, one head down, then the other."

"Sounds fair." Said Ruffnut, "Except for the Night Fury part. Remember what happened last time? They creamed us, Astrid."

"Last time we hadn't netted them, we didn't expect it." Astrid gave them a reassuring grin before wolfing down her last morsel of food and standing to leave. "This time it'll be different."

As Astrid exited the hall doors into the midday sun, Ruffnut and Tuffnut sent one another loaded glances.

"I've got dibs on going after the rider."

"In your dreams, you're much more suited towards dragons, you look about the same."

"At least I don't look like what comes out of a dragon after they eat."

"…"

"…"

"Race you."

"You're on."

The sun sank lower and lower to kiss the horizon, though slightly later, by Astrid's reckoning, than the last one she'd watched. The limited warmth gifted by the day had long since left the surface of the world, leaving her to don an extra fur or two to shield against the coming cold.

Astrid was unsure of what had drawn her to the promontory where Hiccup's grave lay. She could have watched for raid signs from anywhere, but she was here. The small pile of stones had gained a thin coating of greenery in the time since it was set by a mourning people. She was sure it would be interpreted as a sign of life moving forward, that even though Hiccup now sat in Valhalla, he wished for Berk to carry on. Hel, she knew things would move forward, she didn't need moss on cairn stones to tell her that. Life just won't continue as it should have.

Her eyes rose from the marker, raking over the carved words as they travelled to gaze at the horizon. Taking a few steps forward, she braced the handle of her axe against the hard ground and lowered herself into a comfortable sitting position beside the grave. Part of her felt comforted by the position. If she closed her eyes and imagined, she could pretend that she hadn't failed, and he wasn't dead. That he was sitting there, taking a break between talking about something new he'd made. Maybe they would have gotten along better if she hadn't been so competitive, or if she had bothered to look past the 'useless' persona the village had constructed for him.

If if if.

Then she'd open her eyes and reality would crash over her as ice water. He is dead. She didn't have to remind herself as often anymore, it had begun to sink in more permanently over time. On the few occasions that she did, the wave of guilt would swell, followed quickly by the flames of rage against the reptilian menace that still went unpunished.

As far as driving forces went, anger wasn't such a bad choice, she reasoned as she pulled a seeing crystal from her pouch. Anger leant you fire, strength, and a will to fight.

Bracing her arm on her knee, she held the crystal at eye level and peered through it, scanning the skies for any early signs of a raid. Truth be told, she wasn't expecting anything this early, dragons much preferred striking in the dead of night.

So sure was she that there would be nothing, she almost missed a shadow in the clouds. It was small, very far away, and most definitely moving.

Leaning forward and squinting as if it would help her focus, Astrid tried to bring more clarity to the shadow. Even at this distance she could tell that it was moving at a fair clip. If only it would come closer.

"What do you see, Astrid?"

The sound of a lowered voice close by startled Astrid. Abruptly the silence was overpowered by a roaring in her ears, and her legs shot out, propelling her forwards and away from the unexpected voice. Fingers wrapping around the handle of her axe as she snapped around, raising the weapon and readying herself for combat. Indignant words of reproach were in the process of leaving her lips when she froze.

Stoick's hearty laugh was something that didn't grace the ears of the Hooligans much anymore, but here it was. Astrid rapidly lowered her weapon and had the presence of mind to look sheepish.

"Sorry, didna' mean to startle you." His face returned to an awkward seriousness, and he jutted his chin out towards the sea. "Whaddid ye see?"

"…I'm not really sure. It's just a shadow in the clouds, can't see anything clearly." Differences or not, they both wanted to protect their home. Astrid's mind took on a more businesslike bent, and she turned back, raising the crystal to peer into the distance once again. After a few seconds of searching, she found the shadow again. It had moved further south, and slowed considerably, seeming to move in a circle.

Frowning and offering the crystal to Stoick, Astrid began thinking out loud. "It's a ways away, can't see it without the crystal. It's not getting closer, more like… maintaining a distance. Like it's watching or waiting."

With grunted assent, Stoick took a look for himself, quickly finding the shadow and coming to the same conclusion as Astrid. "It's odd tha' there's only one, it doesn't make se-" He froze midsentence. His head unconsciously moving slightly forwards in an effort to gain a better view, he growled. "There's another one. Right beside the first, but this one is less carful." He lowered the crystal and handed it back to Astrid, a grim expression clouding his face. "Nightmare tail. Tip fell through the bottom of the cloud layer just for a moment, but it's there."

Nightmare. Crap. "Don't suppose we can hope it's just the two of them, can we?" Looking through the crystal again, Astrid watched as the shadows circled one another before coming to a hovering standstill.

A short bark of laughter preceded Stoick's reluctant agreement. "No, we can't. We better start getting the livestock put away, at least we have a bit of warning thi-"

"Wait." Normally Astrid wouldn't interrupt Stoick, and if she was honest with herself she was surprised that she had. The two dragons had taken off towards the southeast, away from Berk, at a rapid pace. She followed their movement, and they exited the clouds. Her eyes widened. No, no no, we don't need this.

Licking her lips, Astrid spoke. "Night Fury. Dragon Master… and a friend on a Nightmare. There are two riders." She tightened her grip on the haft of her axe, and Stoick muttered a curse. Two riders… they're flying southeast. They're flying away, southeast. The spark of an idea began to form as they riders dove into another cloudbank and were lost to view.

"I wanna go after them."

Stoick raised his eyebrows and looked at the young woman. "You want to take a ship out, to chase the riders?"

"We have a heading now!" Astrid's voice was getting louder and faster as she spoke, her excitement at the prospect of going on the offensive rising. "We know that they aren't always with the dragon swarms, and we know the direction of whatever hole they slither into when they aren't attacking us." A huge grin split her face. "We can take the fight to them. Cut off the scheming head." Get that Night Fury.

"Astrid, if there are two of 'em, the riders, how do you know there aren' more?"

Not letting the logic put a damper on her spirits, Astrid quickly fired back. "How likely is that? We've only ever seen the Dragon Master itself during the raids. There's a second one now, and if it's recruiting then wouldn't it be best to attack now?"

After a moment's hesitation, she spoke again. "Chief. I want to clear my name. This is important to me, and would be beneficial to Berk were we to succeed. Please."

Stoick looked her right in the eye, then. Astrid could see the metaphorical wheels turning in his mind. The calculated risk that she was proposing running through his head. He nodded once, and spoke.

"Volunteers only, if you can't get more than ten you aren' goin'. I'll call a war council meeting tomorrow, you can present yer case there."

The third chuckle of the evening rumbled through Stoick's chest at the fierce, happy look that overtook Astrid's face. The apprehensive energy that had given her jitters throughout the day began to flow, lending her strength. Now that once disruptive energy had purpose, direction. And as Stoick turned to walk back into the village, she looked to the southeast.

I'm coming for you, Night Fury.

A/N: You know who shouldn't say words? Me. Like Ever.

I'm sorry it's been so long, things... happened. And that's the worst reason ever I know. Over the past couple of days lightning struck, and this chapter and most of the next one came out of it. Gods do I hope that you all enjoy them.

I will reiterate here that unless the story has a great big ***ABANDONED*** sign on the front of it, it isn't abandoned. It might be a while between updates sometimes due to school, work, or my own personal stupidity, but if there is no abandoned sign and it's not marked as complete, then it's not over.

...Sorry, guys.

Replies:
-Surfy: Glad to see you think I'd improved, shame that the update had to take so ruddy long. And yes, 18 is an insane amount... though the last two semesters have been 20 and 19 respectively. Oops.
Guest: Thank you very much! I'm glad too, Hiccup needed a couple more allies if he was going to have a decent shot at getting anything to change.
-TheGreatLordDragon: I'm happy that you've enjoyed. Is it similar? It's harder for me to tell because it's mine and all that, but that's very flattering. And keeping them in character is one of my larger struggles I think, so thank you very much! ^^
-Ulcaasi: Thank you, I do enjoy the sub-genre myself, though this story has changed a tad from it's original concept.
-Anonymous Noob: Thanks for the compliment. To clarify why Hiccup 'pushed' Astrid off the cliff, he didn't mean to at all. The intention of the segment was to convey that the fight was chaotic, and that neither of them were in nearly as much control as they would be comfortable with. Hiccup hit her wounded shoulder because he knew he had to use that edge or he wasn't getting out of that without Toothless attacking Astrid himself. The pain from that caused her arm to give out when she caught herself leading to disorientation from hitting her head, that plus the slipperyness of the rocks is why she fell. It was much more accident than by design.
-Nymiir: HAH, if you say so! Nah, for real, thank you :)
-Septimus714: Here you go, my friend, tad late but better than not at all :)
-pokeperson01: It's far too much to hope but I do hope that you're still excited, haha. I'm delighted that you've enjoyed so far.
-ChimaTigon: Right now!
-dl-o-lb: I knooooooow, I'm sorry! Here's an update though
-Guest: Oh good lordie so do I, the inspiration to continue would be a welcome sight around my dusty brain.

A huge thank you to my good friend luna1100 on tumblr for being my beta for this. Definitely wouldn't have posted it without you.

Please send any and all constructive criticism, I've no idea what I'm doing. I really do enjoy getting reviews, feedback helps me out a great deal.

Thank you to all the reviewers and everyone who followed, favorited, or read. And thank you very much for sticking with the story despite it's issues, and my inability to write :)