Return to Berk.

After about an hour, Astrid stopped hammering on the door and throwing things around, slumping angrily onto the bed and glaring at the locked door. She couldn't express her fury at the recent turn of events. As if it wasn't bad enough that she was sold in marriage to that arrogant toad, Eret, he had locked her up like some pathetic simpering female when she should be defending herself! By the Gods, she was a Hofferson! Her family went back to the founding of Berk and her father owned half the island! She was a warrior in her own right, trained from when she could walk to defend herself and her family and she resented treated as an object.

And that infuriating pirate! He had rescued her from where she had been trapped on the sinking ship, dealt with her with sarcasm and dodged her attempts to hit him. And she knew who he was from the ship they had escaped onto: the sleek lines and jet sails were the mark of Captain Fury. His crew had been professional and measured and she wasn't worried that her husband and the crew of the Freya's Ghost because she, unlike most people, had read reports of the pirate's activities. And though Captain Fury tended to concentrate on ships with the Berk flag, he almost never killed unless he was attacked.

She stared at the floor. She had spoken to Trader Johann as he and the other Traders were regularly raided by Fury and the man had admitted Fury was always polite, never used force and always left them with sufficient supplies to allow the traders and crew to reach port safely. Johann had also discreetly admitted that the man always left him a small amount of money so he could continue trading. It was at odds with his public image of the fearsome pirate.

But she had been infuriated that the man had seen through her instantly, his sarcastic assessment making her cringe. She didn't let anyone close-not for years and his unflinching disrespect for her had annoyed her. But there had been a darker edge when she had pushed it too far and insulted him. Her heart had accelerated as his green eyes had darkened with anger but he had been measured still in his response and her sore wrist was a reminder that she was still at his mercy. Being locked in the cabin was still making her feel vulnerable and she wished she was free to roam the ship.

The door opened and she glanced up but the husky First Mate walked in with a shy smile and a tray bearing a plate of stew, a hunk of bread, a jug of water and a mug. She stared at it in disgust.

"How am I expected to eat these slops?" she snapped. He shrugged and laid the tray down on table.

"You don't have to-but this is what the cook has produced so you either eat it or go hungry," he said. She peered into the jug.

"Water?" she snapped. Fishlegs backed off.

"Um...you aren't crew so you don't have a grog ration. And water is precious on a ship. Again, your choice!" Then he turned and left, the lock clicking closed and she glared at the offering. Angrily, she moved over to the table, retrieved the little chair and poked the stew. It smelled peppery but she was hungry and tried a few mouthfuls. It was pretty tasteless and greasy so she ignored it and ate the bread, then drank the water. Finally she sat back down on the bed and glared at the door.

She heard steps approach the door and then pause. She tensed as the lock clicked and the door opened. The pirate Captain pulled the door open, his face covered by his scarf. He was still in his leather armour but he had shed the sword and knives. He gave a curt bow of the head.

"I trust you enjoyed the meal, Milady," he said calmly. She lunged forward and flipped the tray up, spraying him with the stew. He stood still, gravy dripping from his armour, then turned to the door and slammed it shut, locking it. He paused by the door. "I was about to take you for a walk on the deck since I assumed you were fed up of being locked in a cabin and would appreciate some fresh air," he told her tightly through the door. "But since you cannot be civil, I really don't feel you deserve any such consideration!" And then he walked to his own cabin and slammed the door.

Hiccup groaned and leaned back against the door, then walked to his desk, grabbed a rag and methodically wiped the stew off his clothing. Sven Two's cooking wasn't the greatest but it was edible and she had been offered everything the crew had. He had hoped she would be at least civil because he knew all too well that being cooped in a cabin was miserable on a voyage. But she was angry, rude and violent-very different to the girl he had known, the girl he had loved. He sighed. Maybe this was the real Astrid all along...and then he shook his head, running his fingers through his auburn hair. He had grown up with Astrid and she had been aggressive, competitive and smart-but this was a different woman.

Then he sighed. He was a very different man to the boy he had been five years earlier, the boy betrayed, disowned and cast out of this home. He had learned and grown because that was all he could do to survive but sometimes, he didn't know who he was. A dark side to him wanted revenge on those who had do cruelly hurt him and literally stripped him of everything: it had been what he had been dreaming of over the last five years. He rubbed his wrist thoughtfully: sometimes, clinging to the thoughts of revenge had been all that had kept him going during his worst times on the Thor's Hammer. He sighed: revenge had become all he had and Astrid had featured prominently in those dreams but even faced with her rudeness and aggression, the part that was still that boy had felt his breath hitch at the sight of the Valkyrie Astrid had become-until she had thrown stew in his face.

He stared at floor and clenched his fists. Astrid was proving more distracting than he had imagined and he knew he was struggling but he had to maintain his Captain Fury persona because he knew his crew would swiftly lose respect for him if he showed weakness. They were a rough bunch, motivated by greed and a little voice reminded him that not all of them would think twice before sticking a knife in his back. Then there was a knock on the door and he dragged his scarf up, obscuring his face once more.

"Yes, Fish?" he sighed. The First Mate hovered in the doorway.

"An Outcast ship is following us, Captain," he reported.

"Well, today just keeps getting better and better," he noted.

"They know this channel better than we do and are closing," Fishlegs reminded him.

"Get the Ghost's Captain from below," he growled. "He may have some information. I'll take the helm and see if we can outrun them..."

"Oh dear," Fishlegs murmured and scuttled away as his Captain followed him. He silently took the wheel from Bjarne and his green eyes scanned the waves, picking markers of submerged rocks and anomalous currents. He glanced up.

"More sail!" he shouted. "We can go faster!" He saw Sven One open his mouth to protest but the man caught the look in Fury's eyes, thought better of it and hastened to help the others. Despite the fact that he had only been at sea a few years, he had an almost instinctive ability at the helm-especially in this ship. He could sense her shifting in the current, the slight tilt as they tacked and the surge as the wind filled their sails. The Captain of the Freya's Ghost was escorted into deck and he gaped at their speed as they cut the waves. He paled.

"You're insane!" he spluttered. Fury grinned behind his scarf.

"Probably," he admitted, "but there are Outcasts closing and I'm not sure Al would make me especially welcome if I dropped in." The Captain paled further.

"Outcasts?"

"We're pulling away now but I would welcome any help-such as a shortcut through to the main part of the sea, for example?" Fury's sarcasm was mild by his normal standards but the other Captain frowned.

"I don't appreciate..." he began but Fury's eyes glinted.

"I didn't have to haul you and your crew off your sinking ship, Captain, but there is enough evil in this world without letting moderately harmless men die uselessly," he growled. The Captain bit his lips. It was a fair-though unexpected-point and not what he had expected from an infamous pirate. He nodded and gestured.

"There is a narrow channel by those two sea stacks that leads to the open ocean," he admitted. "Berk is one day north." Fury nodded and turned away, though he didn't order the man back to his cage. Transfixed, the Captain watched the tall, lean shape gently lean as he spun the wheel and the ship leaned as she almost jumped and spun into the channel, the crew all hastening to attend to the sails. Fury's eyes were fixed on the channel as he guided them almost instinctively. The captive Captain watched in awe as they surged ahead of the Outcast ship. The twins were whooping while Bucket and Mulch were rolling up a cannon just in case. The Captain watched Fury swing the ship around again, instinctively taking a curve in the channel-and avoiding a shot from the pursuing ship.

"Oh good, they want to talk," Fury muttered, dipping his head instinctively. "Tuff-you think you can warn them off?"

"Dude-I was born being able to warn them off!" the male twin replied. Ruff winked at Bucket and he rolled a second cannon up.

"Thorston salvo?" she suggested with a grin, loading the second cannon. Fury groaned.

"Try not to sink them?" he suggested wearily. "We may need to come through here one day and sinking another of Alvin's ships isn't gonna get us any slack, okay?"

"You think he'll want is back anyway after sinking one his ships?" Fishlegs asked him worriedly.

"Alvin hates my guts anyway so I doubt he's sending us an invite for Snoggletog," Fury shot back. "TWINS!"

"Dude-you take all the fun out of life!" Tuff grumbled as he lined up his shot.

"Turning to starboard...now!" Fury snapped and the twins fired as the Night Fury swung into another improbable turn. The thunder of cannon was followed by the satisfying crunch of wood succumbing to iron shot and Fury snatched a glance to see the mast of the pursuing ship crash to the deck, along with the dragon's head prow. There were whoops from the twins as the Outcast ship began to rapidly fall back.

"Open sea ahead" Jorgen shouted from the lookout and Fury gave a tight smile as he swung through the last and narrowest part of the channel and into the open sea. The other Captain stared at the young pirate, realising he was no more than twenty and had a fraction of his own experience at sea...and yet he had marshalled his crew and steered the ship through a channel the older Captain would never have hazarded. He bowed his head.

"I salute you, Captain Fury," he admitted. "That was a fine piece of seamanship." The lean young pirate shrugged.

"Just don't murder me in my bed or turn me in when we drop you off on Berk," he said wearily as he headed back to his cabin.

oOo

The next morning, the Night Fury was speeding for Berkian waters, cutting through the seas with Ruff at the wheel. Captain Fury was walking quietly in the deck, surreptitiously inspecting his crew when Fishlegs wandered by, drenched in weak porridge. "I see our guest still doesn't appreciate the finer points of Sven's cooking," Fury noted with a smile. At least he wasn't the one getting drenched in food this time.

"She seems in a bad mood," Fishlegs admitted.

"I think she's always in a bad mood," the Captain murmured. "Can you bring her to me on deck? A breath of fresh air may improve her demeanour...though I'm not betting on it." Fishlegs cast his friend a jaundiced look and then stomped off to collect Astrid from her cabin.

In truth, Astrid was very very bored. The cabin was small and dim and though not cold, the window was small and barred to prevent escape. Since her rejection of the stew the previous night, she had been left until morning, though she had felt queasy at the abrupt manoeuvres they had competed shortly before dark. She had curled in the bed and was feeling grubby and lonely...though not lonely enough to be civil to the husky First Mate who had patiently brought her breakfast. She had felt ashamed as he had walked out, covered in porridge, but not ashamed enough to offer a apology. She was a Hofferson after all!

So it was a major surprise when she was fetched from her cabin by the same-but less friendly-First Mate and escorted to the deck. She had paused, throwing her head back in relief at fresh, salty air, and had taken a few deep breaths with a broad smile on her face, her eyes closed in happiness.

"Morning, Milady."

Her scowl returned at the irritating, slightly nasal tone of the pirate captain as he turned to face her. He looked relaxed in his leather armour over a deep red tunic, a short knife only at his hip. The breeze was ruffling his messy auburn hair. She thought it stupid that he kept his lower face obscured by the black scarf tied securely over it but his emerald green eyes were calculating as he inspected her and she realised suddenly that she looked grubby and dishevelled. She had been so busy being angry at everyone, that she had allowed him the opportunity to tease her once more.

"Is it?" she snapped.

"Morning? Yes, I think so. The sun is nowhere near its zenith so that indicates we have't reached noon yet, hence the traditional definition of morning." His tone was sarcastic and she longed to wipe the smirk he must have off his concealed mouth. "I take it the accommodations and catering are not to your taste?" She balled her fists.

"You lock me in that dark hole and feed me slops? Of course they aren't to my liking!" she retorted. He sighed.

"So you would prefer Outcast cells and cooking and...ah...attention?" he asked her pointedly. "Much as it wearies me to have to remind you, Lady Hofferson-or possibly Eretson-your ship was attacked and sunk by Outcast raiders. Had we not come to your rescue, you would be feeding the fishes or warming Alvin's bed."

"I'd die first!" she shouted at him, enraged. He shook his head.

"No-but you may die after," he told her in a bleak tone. "Not everyone survives his tender mercies as a host. And unlike me, he wouldn't walk away when you threw food in his face." She opened her mouth to scorch back an answer but saw the shadows in his eyes and bit her tongue. In truth, he had been more than civil and the uncouth, uncivilised one had been Astrid herself. And while she relished being feisty and brave, she knew that she was probably in the best position to sue for the safety of the rest of the crew...including her new and unwanted husband. She swallowed her anger and pride with an effort because she had a duty to them, no matter how angry she was...

"I-I...apologise," she choked. His eyes flicked towards her and then he stared ahead once more, a smug twinkle in his eyes.

"Sorry, I missed that," he said cheerfully. She gritted her teeth.

"I am sorry!" she snapped more loudly.

"Amazingly sincere, milady," he taunted her. Her eyes narrowed.

"Why should I care what a lying, thieving murderer thinks or says?" she hissed. He gave a wounded gesture, his hand laid tenderly over his heart.

"Oh, the pain!" he groaned. "Pierced in the heart by such a barb!" Then his tone grew cold. "But exactly what I would expect of Lady Astrid Hofferson!" She started and her expression looked flabbergasted.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her tone so shocked she was unable to muster any anger. He turned his green eyes to her.

"I know your name," he said tonelessly. "A young man, some years ago, spoke it with grief and pain." She stared at him. "What was he called? Ah...Hiccup. He said he had loved you with his heart and soul and that you had sworn to be his true love also. But when he was betrayed, when he was so badly tortured by his own father to force him to admit his love, you rejected him utterly, leaving him alone to face the censure of the two most powerful men on Berk. He was driven from his home, his family and people. He was starving on the docks when he was taken onto a pirate vessel because no other ship would take him, for fear of angering his father and yours. I met him there."

She had gone pale, her blue eyes wide and swimming with something suspiciously akin to guilt. "Where-where is he now?" she asked quietly.

"Did you expect a skinny, beaten, broken-hearted boy to survive in the bear pit of a pirate ship?" he asked her pointedly. "Hiccup is no more. Only his memory." She stared at him and slowly lifted her chin.

"What would you know?" she asked him suddenly. "You are a pirate!"

"And few if any are born pirates," he reminded her sharply. "It's not exactly a top profession chosen by most when they decide to leave home. For many, it is the last resort."

"Ah...your broken heart?" she taunted. He stiffened then stared back out to sea.

"Don't jest about things you don't understand," he told her sharply. "To feel that pain, you actually have to have a heart. And I doubt Astrid Hofferson loves anyone but herself." He turned away. "You may walk the decks for fresh air, milady, but I cannot allow you to see the remainder of the crew."

"Now wait a minute..." she argued, recalling why she was talking to this monster at all. "They don't deserve to be locked up like animals..." He turned to her as she spoke and his eyes inspected her.

"And who does? Poor people? Slaves? Pirates? People like me? All of the above?" he asked her sharply.

"Yes! No! I mean..." she replied, feeling her heart flutter at his stunning emerald gaze. He wasn't what she had expected. He walked closer, slowly circling her in a predatory manner.

"What do you mean?" he breathed in her ear. "Do I count as a person or not?"

"Um...yes...but you kidnapped me!" she protested, He paused, standing behind her and she spun to face him: she could tell from the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes-those damned mesmerising eyes-that he was smiling.

"Then I apologise, milady," he murmured softly. "I should've left you locked in a cabin on a sinking ship..." She glared, abruptly reminded of her predicament-and who had caused it.

"What about my husband?" she protested.

"I am glad you remember him this time," he teased her gently. "How long have you been married?" Her eyes flashed but she recalled that she was trying to be civil and it was a reasonable question.

"Three days," she admitted, breaking eye contact. His eyes were so much more interesting than her husband's. She heard him shift position, the creak of his leather armour loud in the sudden silence between them.

"Young love," he said and his tone was dripping sarcasm. She turned back to see a cynical expression in his eyes and his arms firmly folded.

"No," she admitted. "You...you were right there as well, Captain Fury. It is...a political match. I met him the day before the wedding. My father arranged the whole thing." He tilted his head.

"Interesting," he commented. "You are in a marriage with no love...maybe the Norns repaying you for what you did to that boy?" She spun away from him, her fists clenching.

"You know nothing!" she spat. "You judge me on the whining of one disappointed boy!" His eyes hardened.

"A little more than 'disappointed', I would wager," he said coldly. "Do you dispute you denied loving him? When he needed you most, did you not turn away from him?" He saw her stiffen and lift her chin.

"No, I don't deny it," she said slowly. "But I had my reasons!" Fury walked slowly round to inspect her face.

"Which were?" he asked directly. Her eyes flashed.

"Mine," she spat.

"Did you even love him? For one single minute?" he asked her curiously. She glared at him.

"That's none of your business!" she snapped. He shrugged.

"So you led on the boy-and you don't love your husband," he concluded. "I was right: there is a chunk of ice lodged in your chest, milady." She glared at him and then visibly forced herself to look calmer.

"Will you at least allow my husband and the crew some exercise and fresh air as you have granted me?" she requested. He made a show of considering her offer...then shook his head.

"If they were free, would they respect my Captaincy? Or would they try to capture me and my men and take us to be hanged? That would be poor repayment for our efforts in saving you! So I am afraid they must stay where they are..." He saw her open her mouth to spit an insult at him and smiled. "But never fear. Berk is there...only a few short hours away..." He pointed to the jagged shape in the distance and turned away, brushing past her without a further single word.

She stared after him and wrapped her arms around her body, her cheeks scorching from the rebukes. Few if any scolded her as he had and she felt shame that his words had the merit of being true. She had been rude and cruel when he had saved her life. And somehow...he had managed to stir up all the emotions she had carefully locked away over the last five years. Damn him! Damn him with his perceptive mind and calm demeanour and those incredible green eyes! She hugged herself tighter then she turned back to the distant island: soon, she would be back on Berk and she could forget this whole horrible incident.

oOo

There had been another surprise waiting her in her room: warm water, soap and clean rags that could serve as drying towels. She had stared in shock at the unlocked door as she had closed it-then had attended to cleaning herself up and brushing and rebraiding her hair. By the time she was done, Berk was looming large against the horizon and the Night Fury was tacking hastily up the western coast, past the main harbour in Berkisport towards an more isolated mooring. The crew obviously knew their way round and sped up towards the northern coast, until they pulled into an isolated bay.

Astrid was waiting on deck, her poise restored as her husband, the Captain and the remaining crew of the Freya's Ghost were brought up from their cages. Unlike Astrid, they all looked the worse for wear, though Eret remained proud and arrogant as he pushed past the pirates. He strode to her side and took her hand in a chivalrous kiss. "Are you unharmed, wife?" he asked coolly. She flicked a gaze up at him: she wondered what he would say if she had been touched in any way. She guessed she would be rejected out of hand. She nodded.

"I have been treated with respect," she informed him coldly. Captain Fury emerged and faced the released crew, gesturing to the side. A small boat had been lowered and he gestured vaguely.

"Your passage awaits," he said as they walked to the side. The boat was empty. Eret looked up with a scowl and Fury raised a well-defined eyebrow. "Your crew can row themselves, I think," he said, his voice smirking. There was a pause.

"This is the wrong side of the island from the main town!" Eret protested angrily.

"Now why should I drop you just by the main naval base so you can alert them and capture me when I drop you to safety?" Fury asked him rhetorically. "You can walk round the coast and find a village: I am certain they will then gladly take you back to more civilised parts." He smirked under his disguise. "Think of it as a little well-needed exercise after your imprisonment!"

"While you skulk away, you thieving murderer!" Eret snarled. Fury gave a mocking bow.

"You could always swim?" he suggested, a gleam in his emerald eyes. Astrid stared at him in shock as the Captain nodded and two of his men unceremoniously grabbed Eret's arms and tossed him over the side. Astrid hastened forward at the splash and saw him floundering right by the small boat. The Ghost's crew who had already clambered down helped him in-as he flapped and shouted abuse up at the pirate. Fury gave a nod and walked forward, offered Astrid a hand and she surprised herself by taking it. She offered the ghost of a smile and he inclined his head in acknowledgement as she stepped down into the boat.

Fishlegs stood by Fury and watched the little boat pull away, giving a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank Thor," he murmured. "I don't think the crew could have stood much more..." Fury glanced at his friend and pulled his scarf off his face.

"I got hit by stew as well," he reminded his friend.

"You didn't spend time with the others," he reminded Fury. "That General guy is a total ass!" Fury stared after the rapidly receding boat.

"Yeah, kinda guessed that," he murmured. "Maybe they deserve each other." He shook himself. "Set course for Raven Point, Fish. I think it's time for a family reunion!"