21A/N: Yes. It's me. I'm back with the longest chapter so far; I was planning to split it in two, and if I had, the first part would have been released months ago. However, I could find no good place to cut it neatly, so here we are.
Feedback is always appreciated!
It was days before Astrid heard the flock return. She actually sighed in relief when she heard the collective shrieks. She was getting low on food, especially with all of the cooking she was attempting in order to keep herself busy. Even if she was terrible at it.
But now it wasn't the only thing she could do. The fireworm still hadn't left. Sometimes, it even curled up on her knee when she was sitting by the window, or napped on her shoulder. Every day it just seemed more attached to her, never leaving her side. It was weird. Even though it wasn't like a dog or a cat, she was beginning to see it as she would a pet. What would her parents think of her? Treating a dangerous creature in such a way.
It didn't matter anymore, did it? They were back on Berk. She was here, leagues away. In a castle guarded by beasts. They'd never see her play with a fireworm. They'd never even hear about it. And the little thing wasn't a true dragon, not really; it was too tiny and helpless to cause any real destruction.
She spent hours with the little Hiccup, watching him and sometimes even playing with him. She was trying to teach him how to avoid setting himself on fire when he was on her skin, a task which wasn't always successful, and she was accumulating the small burns to prove it.
He liked to curl up when he was sleeping, and he liked to do so on a warm surface. He liked certain foods over others. He tried to crawl in bed with her once, and she scolded him, afraid he'd set the bed on fire; he hadn't tried it since. But sometimes he was purposefully annoying for no apparent reason. Now, for example, he had just torn a page out of one of her journals and was playing keep-away. He flew it up to a shelf and she was trying to think of a way to get it back without him setting it on fire first.
Her mind was so focussed on the fireworm that she didn't notice that the Master had entered the room until she happened to glance to the side and see him standing on the other side of the hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Watching her. A few moments after she saw him, he started to head for the door.
She was terrified of saying anything but finally forced herself to speak, instantly regretting the words as they came out of her mouth. "I'm out of food."
He paused in the doorway.
What am I even doing getting his attention? Who knew what he could do to her! But worse than this was the regret. She made herself a promise the day she woke up in this place that she wouldn't ask the Master for anything. She wasn't going to be like a dog, begging for scraps. And that was what she'd just done, more or less...
"You can eat with me." The words were cold. She didn't know how to respond; the last thing she wanted to do was be in the same room as him… But, it would be different than the routine she was trapped in. She was desperate for anything that could break that monotony. And if she ate with him, where he ate, she'd get to see more of the castle, and this could only be to her benefit.
He left the room. She paused for a moment, summoning her courage. Hiccup landed on her shoulder and dropped a few ashes on her shirt, but her mind was no longer on what used to be the page. She brushed the ashes off and glanced down the hall. The master was already out of sight, but she could hear the click of his leg. Interesting that she hadn't heard it earlier… She cautiously followed the sound down the hallway until she came to the path that connected to the rest of the castle, which was normally always blocked by dragons, but for once was actually empty. The tunnel was not even as long as she'd previously assumed.
On the other side, the hall was far grander than what she had previously seen. There were balconies of the floor above, and a row of pillars on either side, each covered in carvings of dragons that were more dramatic than accurate. Everything looked old. Parts of the carvings were broken off or covered in scorch marks.
He was at one end of the hall, waiting for her. As eager as she was to explore the rest of this place, that would come later, when he wasn't watching her.
It had been a while since she had any real plan. Nothing new normally happened and all the ideas she had thought up were insufficient. But she knew that this new situation provided an opening, and her mind raced with ideas. Maybe she could finally do something about her situation. There were knives at a dinner table, weren't there? And wouldn't he also be off-guard? But what about the dragons?
She followed him into the dining room and took it in. The room was dark except for the dragonfire of the winged beasts, who clung to the walls and covered the ceiling, one clung on top of another. Some slept. Others watched her and the master with keen reptilian eyes, golden fire burning from their jaws. One flew down to block the door after they entered. The fireworm curled in on himself on her shoulder, cowering.
On one end of the table was a large, throne-like chair made of stone and draped with half-scorched furs. The Master sat comfortably and watched as Astrid cautiously took a seat on the bench about mid-way down the table. The table was full of food: fish, mutton, chicken, and several bowls of fruit. Even though the feast was plentiful, it seemed more piled on the table than laid out. Not all of the food was on a dish, and all was piled hap-hazardly. Several unused candlesticks rolled about amongst the piles. She wondered if there was anyone else here to serve him, or if the dragons had dragged everything in.
.
The Master watched her from behind his mask. One could never be too careful, especially around someone who had sworn to end his life. She'd come around eventually - but perhaps it was her hatred of him that made her so interesting.
A long moment passed, neither moving. He stared intently at her while she simply glared back as she always did. "What, is it all poisoned?" she suddenly asked, without a drop of humor. He didn't answer. It didn't really matter if she ate anything or not. He knew she was too stubborn to starve herself.
Funny, most stubborn people he ended up strongly disliking. Vikings were so unwilling to accept change and more than willing to die to prevent it, even when they would benefit from it in the long run. Dragons, for instance. They hated dragons with a passion, and hopefully, it was the one thing Astrid Hofferson wasn't stubborn about. He watched her as one of her fingers stroked the fireworm in a calming motion. With her other hand, she claimed some of the chicken.
.
If he was going to just sit and stare at her, then she might as well take advantage of food that wasn't terribly cooked. And, since she knew he wasn't going to kill her now of all times, she might as well take advantage of this situation and annoy him as much as possible. He seemed to take some sick pleasure from her hateful glares, so she tried her best to ignore him, not glancing his way until she had finished most of a drumstick. And luckily, it had worked. He looked away, reached up, and for the first time unfastened his mask.
A few quiet clacks and then he set down the mask that had defined his existence to her for the past few years. And now, it was her turn to stare. The Master was… far younger than she expected, and though there was little else to say about his face that she was willing to admit to herself…
It was strange. There was no one on Midgard she hated more than The Dragon Master. But he was an idea as much as he was an individual, and no matter how many times they were in the same room, he was a demon rather than a human being. Now, she was reminded that he was, indeed, human. Somehow.
No, now was not the time to stare. She wasn't going to let him have that power over her. Unfortunately, his face was now the only thing she could think about. And she couldn't stop thinking about it until the fireworm decided to go after her food.
.
Astrid intrigued him, how she had warmed up to a dragon in such a way. He had known people who tolerated dragons. Eret, for example, while he was still around. But Astrid was different. However, he still needed to be careful. She could always turn on them all. She was a dragon killer. Her entire reputation on Berk was built around dragon fighting. If yesterday's events were any indication, no one should ever be trusted, not even the people he had helped the most.
Dagur was a terrible person. He deserved to die. His younger sister had no right to hate him for that; she should be proud that her father was avenged. She should have been grateful. Instead, she had tried to assassinate him. And what did he do about it? He dropped her into the ocean. He had kept associating her with Astrid in his mind. How could he do something like that? How many times had someone tried to kill him before, and how many times had he dealt swift, or not so swift, punishment with no thought of remorse? Men, women, even the overzealous kid now and then, what did it matter? They all knew what they were getting themselves into by challenging him. Heather knew more than most. She deserved death.
But didn't Astrid deserve the same? He cursed himself in his mind. He was The Dragon Master. He could do whatever he wanted; he didn't answer to anyone. And right now, he wanted to keep Astrid, and get rid of scum like Heather. He had to get control of himself. He wasn't some coward, and he couldn't afford to hesitate again.
A laugh broke him out of his thoughts. Not quite a laugh really. It was hardly audible, but it came from Astrid. The fireworm had accidentally burnt the piece of meat he was trying to steal from her hand, and now he was glaring up at her in blame. "You know there's a plate full of food right over there, you little Hiccup…"
The Master's eyes locked on her, but his mind was somewhere else. He remembered a young boy holding tightly to Toothless, afraid that if he let go, he would never get to see him again. The boy who hobbled along with the black dragon to walk after his leg was taken. The boy who laughed and played when Drago's soldiers allowed them to see each other. The boy who then found a family and celebrated his freedom.
"My little Hiccup," his mother's voice whispered, her fingers running through the boy's auburn locks. "You came back to me…"
The cannons burst fire and the Bewilderbeast spat ice. Valka, scrambling back with nowhere to go. A scream that never came. There was a darkness, a pain, like a stake had been driven through his heart… And a laugh. A wicked, despicable laugh from the monster who had caused the boy nothing but misery.
He was not that boy. The boy who was too weak to save his own mother. The boy who died that day because of the actions of a dragon slaver.
"What. Did. You. Say!?" He demanded. He rose without a moment's thought, already halfway down the length of the table before the words were all out.
Astrid stood quickly with an air of defiance as the fireworm scurried off for its own self-preservation. The last time the Master had been like this was after the last time she tried to kill him, and even if that encounter had turned out badly, she was still Astrid, after all. "I didn't say anything to you."
"Don't lie!" He activated his sword and the blade lit with a click. Astrid jumped back just as the flame cut through the air between them, where she had been standing just moments before. When he swung again, she jumped up on the bench and dove to the other side of the table, nearly running into a monstrous nightmare against the opposite wall. It turned to her and growled, forcing her closer to the table, with just the few feet of wood and metal separating her from the Master.
"Do you think I'm a fool?!" How did she know who he was? Was she in on it from the very beginning? Had she been fooling him this entire time? "Who else knows!?"
"I swear to Thor I don't know what…"
Her plate shattered when it hit the wall, barely missing her head.
How could I have been such a fool? They probably all knew. Despite all he had accomplished, they still saw him deep down as the broken weakling he once was… And here was Astrid, pretending to be afraid. Pretending he was a stranger to her, but knowing deep down that he was scum like the rest of them.
He bounded across the table with a tight grip on his sword, knocking all manner of food aside. When he was close enough, Astrid kicked him in the gut. Even with his leather armor, it still hurt, and he stalled long enough for her to grab hold of an empty, broken candlestick from the table. Before another second had passed, he swung for her head. She threw the candlestick at the hilt, and it hit his hand, causing him to drop the blade. She kicked it under the table before he could react.
She's been playing me all this time. "You'll pay for that!" He kicked her in the shin, stepped forward, and swung his fist for her face, and she brought up her forearms to block. Luckily for her, she still had the patches of armor that she normally wore, even if he wore far more than she did. He kept fighting, pushing her farther and farther back. I let her go. I was weak! He wasn't weak. He wasn't…
She kept blocking. Some of the blows hit her, but not enough to down her. Growing increasingly frustrated, he waved his hand; a dragon swooped down on top of the girl, pinning her under its claws. Even though she wasn't going anywhere, she continued to try to get it off of her, making the beast increasingly angry. It reeled back, fire glowing brightly through its fangs with a roar of heat. The Master watched. A part of him wanted to stop, didn't want to have to do this. But even more than this, he wanted a reason to keep going. He wanted to end all of this once and for all - free his mind from this conflict. "Beg me to stop!" he nearly screamed.
She looked at his face, and unlike past encounters, she could now see him as clearly as he saw her. She didn't even need to glare for him to know exactly how much she hated him. "No."
This gave him pause just long enough for a shadow to dart between them. The night fury lunged for the other dragon, forcing it off of her. Toothless knocked the Master with his tail as he planted himself over Astrid, keeping the other reptiles back. Many of them even flew from the room. Much of the light went with them.
The master pulled himself back up quickly, and Toothless turned to him. He didn't growl, but he stayed between the two humans. The Master glared, get out of the way. The night fury didn't move. Toothless looked at him with stern, yet still compassionate eyes, and he couldn't look away.
No, no… why was he… No, why was he doing this? He was in control, wasn't he? He didn't want to kill Astrid, did he? Not right now. He didn't even want her to get hurt. "Why did you say that to the worm?!"
.
She debated not answering, but she had no reason to keep this information to herself. She didn't even know why this fight happened. "He was playing with my food. We were playing, and I've named him Hiccup…" His brow furrowed at this comment for some reason. Why was this what he cared about? "I know it's a stupid name…"
"No, it's…" there was a pause. The night fury moved to rub up against his chest, no longer having a reason to guard her from him. The master nodded; "Hiccup is a good name." He turned and returned to where his throne was, retrieving his mask and fastening it again. Without another word or glance, he kept walking down another path. Toothless grabbed his sword and brought it to him as a dog might, and they left, another dragon coming down to block the doorway.
Once the click of his footsteps had faded into the silence, Astrid stood and found Hiccup hiding under an overturned bowl. She sat on the bench next to him. "I may need to call you something else," she said to the fireworm, her mind drifting off into other thoughts.