TWENTY SIX: Betrayal

Over the next couple of weeks, Astrid saw more of Chief Torgeir than she would have expected. As she regained her strength, she began to walk around the village and beyond, finding a small clearing with a couple of hardened and lightning-blasted tree trunks that would do as a training ground. She still rested and found that especially in the afternoon, Thumper wanted his rest. But despite her need for more rests, she she forced herself on, walking, running and finding a suitable staff to practice the movements for her axe. And she became more aware that the villagers were beginning to acknowledge her, eyes flicking up to inspect her as she walked through the increasingly-familiar geography of the village but the sensation of eyes trailing her was something she found intrusive.

Torgeir visited every day and insisted that she dined with him. The first time he had women bring in what seemed to be a feast, Astrid had been embarrassed and had wanted to decline but he had gently but firmly insisted that it was his wish as Chief-and the she, as guest, should accept his hospitality. It would be insulting if she didn't, after all. So she had accepted with good grace, savouring the well-prepared food and enjoying the company she was offered. Torgeir was charming and attentive, his tales of his exploits in battle interesting to the young woman though she found herself mentally comparing him with the self-effacing and brilliant Night Fury Rider who owned her heart. But she smiled and nodded at the correct points in the tales and made sure she laughed at his quips because her instincts told her that he was not a man who took criticism well. The memory of the brief flash of offence as she laughed at him in the Arena was probably the strongest clue in a man whose behaviour had otherwise been exemplary.

He seemed fascinated that she had trained as a warrior and a Shield Maiden and his attitude had been mildly superior, implying her desire to be a warrior was charmingly old-fashioned and doomed to failure. To Torgeir, the notion that a woman could rival a man as a soldier was fantasy and his dismissal of her skills irked her no end. Old Astrid, back on Berk and secure in the love and acceptance of her friends and Tribe, would have yelled at him for being a chauvinistic ass and punched him but here, alone and vulnerable, she managed a pained smile. Sitting back, his attitude was as if he had won the argument and she had balled her fists but said nothing, wondering what he would make of the fiery woman she was under her iron control. But back in her room-and visiting Stormfly-she had vented her frustration and paced back and forth, growling in her irritation. She had observed the village workings and realised that women did not seem to be taught weapons craft at all, being employed in 'traditional' roles as bakers, cooks, mothers and homemakers.

But she was regaining her strength and suppleness, though she missed having her axe and she hadn't wanted to broach the subject while she was finding her feet in the village, not being sure what their attitude would be to her having the weapon and whether she would be granted it. But once she had been there for almost three weeks, feeling accepted and more comfortable and she had done everything to regain her fitness without her weapon, she had waited until Torgeir had arrived to take her for dinner and then she had walked quietly alongside him.

"I have something to ask you, Chief," she began and he half-turned to her, the small smug smile lifting his lips. He gently touched her arm and she almost stiffened at the unwanted intrusion.

"Torgeir-please," he told her in an amused tone. "How many times do I have to ask?" She nodded and stared ahead for a few paces.

"I have something to ask you, Torgeir," she repeated, her tone cool. "When I arrived, I was armed and when I checked my packs, I found my axe, my knives and my other weapons were missing." His eyebrow quirked.

"Really?" he teased her and she stopped dead, her eyes flashing.

"Yes!" she snapped. "I know the contents of my packs-and I know that someone rifled through them, removing items that I need. Not to mention my primary weapon, my axe which was made for me by my best friend." And the man I love. Torgeir frowned.

"You have no need of weapons here," he told her simply. "I and my warriors protect this village and all its inhabitants-including you!" Breathing hard, she stared at him, appalled.

"I am a warrior in my own right, Chief Torgeir," she told him hotly, "and I protect others! I don't need protecting and I need my axe back!" He stared at her-and then began to laugh.

"Have you heard yourself, Astrid?" he asked her scornfully. "You are a small woman in late pregnancy and this talk about needing an axe is...insane! You should rest and allow the healer and the other woman surround and support you until you deliver your child..." She glared at him in fury, eyes flashing and fists balled so tightly the knuckles showed white through the skin.

"I am a warrior of Berk and a Dragon Rider!" she growled at him. "I am second in command to the Dragon Master, Hiccup Haddock the Third, Heir to Berk. And I have fought Berserkers, Outcasts and Dragon Hunters!"

"And you are in Granite Isle, seeking our protection and wishing to stay here...and if you wish to stay, you must accept our customs," he told her in a suddenly cold voice. "Our women are not permitted to be warriors and I will not have a girl disrupting my village." She glared at him, pulling back.

"Then I will find somewhere else where my wishes and skills will be respected," she said furiously. "I thank you for your hospitality but I will be leaving." Then she turned and marched away.

oOo

Checking the directions he had been given, Hiccup leaned forward over Toothless's neck as they arrowed forward. The dragon had slept for eighteen hours and devoured and huge barrel of salted fish before he had been willing to continue the chase, for he was exhausted as well and hadn't fully recovered from his ordeals in the clutches of the Hunters. The Night Fury was brave and devoted to his Rider, but even he had his limits-though he could understand his Rider's despair at still being separated from his mate. And while Toothless couldn't understand why they had needed to go back to Berk and beyond and find the loud boy who had annoyed Toothless and Hookfang so frequently, he had been happy to see the other dragons again-and meet the silver younglings. Though the Night Fury was secretly looking forward to meeting Hiccup's youngling, because he had seen the joy fade from Hiccup's eyes at the departure of his mate-just when he had been glowing with happiness.

So Toothless was now focussed, every sense on edge as he stared ahead and sought the faintest edge of Stormfly's scent of the breeze. But the time was too long and there was nothing but the salt and ozone and scents of other dragons and...

He growled.

Instantly, Hiccup was on edge, eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon.

"What is it, bud?" he asked in a low voice. "Danger?"

Toothless answered with a flick of the ears and the young viking tensed, his hands tightening on the edge of the saddle, glad that his Inferno sword had been repaired while they were in Sniffling so he was armed. And then they rose up to see the outline of an island that matched their directions: the Healers' Isle.

"We have to go there-because this is the last place that we know she headed," Hiccup told the dragon, feeling the tension zing through him. "And we haven't seen any wreckage or anything along the way-thank the Gods-and I have to believe that she made it here safely, at least, because if not..." His voice stopped and for a moment he bowed his head. "I have to believe she is alive and wasting for me," he said after a long moment. "Take us down, bud." They swooped over a small bay onto a shallow beach with a crystal clear stream winding down to the sea, dropping off a three foot rill onto the sands and behind, the verdant vegetation was reminiscent of Dragon's Edge. There were signs on the sands of recent visitation by people and as they landed, Hiccup leapt from the saddle and walked to inspect the trash, seeing a discarded knife, a dead fire-pit, a few chicken bones and several arrows. Frowning, he crouched down and lifted one, sniffing the arrowhead: the fletching was unfamiliar but the gleaming green paste over the metal was not.

"Dragon Root," he murmured and then glanced up. "Dragon Hunters!" He scrambled to his feet and flung himself into the saddle. "Bud?"

Toothless warbled: there was no one nearby hostile, either by smell or sound. But the Hunters had been here recently.

"Let's go, bud-we need to see what they've done," he said in a grim voice. Toothless growled and launched, flapping low over the trees and skimming the vegetation, soaring over the patchwork landscape with patches of trees and bushes alternating with leafy glades and more open rolling areas. But from the air, it was easy to see trails where the grass and scrub had been trampled by a train of men hunting for dragons. And the trail led them to evidence of at least three captures, fired arrows and scorch-marks evidence of the struggle the dragons had put up..along with the parallel lines of the wheels on the cages, taking their prizes down to the beach.

But the worst was the little gulley that Toothless had unerringly led him to. Within was the corpse of a female Changewing and evidence of a struggle with the jewelled shells of her offspring scattered around her along with the body of one, fatally pierced by a Dragon Root arrow that had struck too deep into the small and vulnerable hatchling. Hiccup crouched by the little body and lifted it in his hands: it was probably only a few days old and still dependent. And its siblings were missing...

And then he saw something that froze the heart in his chest and made him almost stop breathing: Nadder Spines. He rose and urgently went and grabbed one, wrenching it out of the rocky wall with some difficulty but recognising the patterning on it because he had seen it so many times.

"Stormfly," he breathed and turned to Toothless-but the dragon was sitting with his ear-flaps back and cringing in misery. "Astrid." He looked around the gulley and felt his world tilt.

There is no body so she isn't dead. She isn't dead. But she and Stormfly were here and the Hunters have clearly captured dragons-and the Changewings here. They must have her. They have Astrid and Stormfly.

Thor, I wish the others were here-but they are chasing Viggo and Krogan, trying to stop them finding the DragonEye lenses.

He walked slowly to Toothless, his head down and the spine in his hand.

"They have her," he said heavily, stroking the Night Fury. "And she will be vulnerable. Thor-I know how dangerous they are when you are healthy and...not pregnant. I can't imagine what they could do to her. Thor, I don't want to have to imagine that. She needs us, bud. And it's only us...so we can't do this the way we normally do." He swallowed, his pale neck bobbing as he considered the unpalatable truth.

Toothless warbled and Hiccup sighed.

"This isn't me, bud," he murmured. "You know me-always try to take the peaceful option, to free the dragons without harming the people...because most of them are just normal people, doing a job to bring food to their homes and support their families. All I am trying to do...if I could catch up with her. But because we're alone out here, I can't take the chance to be shot down or captured. So...I have to do it the other way. It has to be hard and fast. I have to strike first and strike last. I have to..." He closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping with shame. "I have to aim to kill because I need them to know I am serious and I need Astrid freed."

Nudging against the young Viking's leg, Toothless crooned softly and Hiccup nodded.

"I know-I have probably killed some men in the war...and I had nightmares over the masked Viking...over Krogan...though it seems i shouldn't have wasted my conscience on him. But all the way through...I tried to give them a chance to get away...but I can't. Not any more. Now I have to make these men fear me...because they won't hand her over in time if they don't. I have to stop them." He sighed, his face filled with shame. "So I have to stop being who I am and become what all the others can be without any effort. And I pray she forgives me for abandoning who I am...for her. I have to remember...it's for Stormfly-and for Astrid. It's all for Milady."

oOo

Astrid stormed back to Healer Anja's, where she was still staying, and began to gather her things, ramming them into packs. All the time, she was boiling with rage. How DARE Torgeir scoff at her hard-won skills and treat her like some...pathetic girl? And sure, she was less agile because she was well advanced in her pregnancy...but she was still skilled enough to bring a man down and fight off an entire raid all by herself. There was no way she could stay here when every time she looked at the Chief, she wanted to ram that stupid smug smile down his throat.

Furiously, she paced the room, trying to find everything she possessed-and then regretting her anger. Thumper was punching up a storm and reminding her that no matter her pride, she needed somewhere safe if she became incapacitated later in pregnancy...and for the birth.

She stilled. No matter how fearless she may pretend she was to herself, there was one looming trial that had her waking at night, tossing and turning and imagining the worst. Birth was a precarious occupation and though Astrid was young, fit and healthy and had never bothered Gothi except for Dragon Rider-related issues-like catching the Scourge of Odin courtesy of Viggo's machinations or going blind after being almost struck by lightning back on the Edge-she was afraid of giving birth. One of her aunts had died in childbirth when Astrid was five, taking her and her unborn child to Valhalla and breaking her Uncle Haakon's spirit. It had been shortly after 'Fearless' Finn had died so losing both her Uncles and Aunt Ragnahilde in the space of a few months had stuck in her memory. It was one of the reasons she had considered ending the pregnancy...before sanity and her love for Hiccup had persuaded her that his child was worth risking her life for as a final gesture of love for the man she had lost.

She chewed her lip and stared at the packs. It was frighteningly little to account for all her achievements, her battles, her victories and losses. Two packs and a couple of rolled furs-and her dragon and axe. Her face hardened again. She needed to get her axe once more. She grabbed her tunic and was folding it when a knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," she said automatically, looking up as Torgeir walked in. Immediately, she was on alert, turning to face him and inspecting his face. His eyes were brilliant and focussed on her face and he advanced into her personal space without any warning, taking her hands.

"Astrid- I regret that we disagreed," he told her quickly. "Please- do not feel you have to leave. I am sure we can make some sort of an accommodation to permit you to continue to your training and maintain your skills. And I want you to stay." He stared into her eyes. "You may not realise, but you are a beautiful and spirited woman, the like of whom I have never met! You are brave, fierce and strong and are absolutely...unique." She stared into his face and tried to pull her hands free but he held on tight.

"I don't know what to say, Chief Torgeir," she told him honestly. But I can guess. He smiled.

"I am asking you to stay in Granite Isle-as my wife," he told her directly. "I feel we would work well together and you would make a strong and supportive Chieftess." He gestured to her middle. "And you are proven to be fertile so we should have no issue in providing me with the strong heirs I require to secure my line..."

She stared at him in shock, her mind suddenly and utterly empty. Of all the things he could have asked, that was the last on the list.

"What do you say, Astrid? Will you stay and become my wife, my Chieftess and the mother of my heirs?" he asked her.

"What? No!" she managed to gasp out, wrenching her hands free. "I-I am sorry, Chief Torgeir, but I am not looking for marriage. My heart is still broken from losing my fiancee and I cannot ever imagine loving anyone but him."

Torgeir stared at her, his expression slowly changing.

"And I am so sorry if you assumed I had any partiality," she continued, trying to read his response. "I assumed you were just being a good host and offering your friendship to a stranger...and I wish to be your friend, Chief Torgeir...but I cannot marry you."

He remained silent and he glared at her, causing the hairs at the back of her neck to stand up. It was the same expression that she had seen on the Screaming Death: implacable rage.

"I think you are making another assumption, Astrid," he said in a toneless voice. "That there is any choice in this matter. I gave you one as a gesture of friendship and hospitality...but there is no option to refuse. You become my wife willingly-or you become my wife unwillingly. But marry me you will."

She pulled back, her eyes flashing in rage.

"I will NOT!" she shouted at him, her fists balling. "I am leaving this place. I am sorry and I am grateful for your hospitality-but I never agreed to stay on these terms!"

"And how will you leave?" he asked her coldly. "Your dragon is my prisoner. If I give the word, she is dead. If you try to visit her without my permission, she is dead. If you anger me, my dear Astrid, I will drag you down to the Arena by your hair and cut her throat in front of you. Is that what you want?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him, revolted. "I was brought here, helpless and wounded and when I woke, I was offered hospitality. And this is...appalling. No! I refuse..."

He closed the distance to her in two steps, grabbing her wrist fiercely and resting a hand possessively on her breast. She writhed and tried to pull free-but he was ruthless and stared into her eyes with undisguised triumph as he continued to paw her without permission.

"You have no say," he told her coldly, his voice gruff with desire. "And if you don't value your best friend enough, have you considered the child?" Her eyes widened in shock and she momentarily stilled. "I am treating you well because I want your acquiescence. But if you fight me, Astrid, I will fight back. And believe me when I say-I never lose. If you refuse to co-operate, your child will pay the price. Have no illusion-I will order my men to beat you-and they will do it, no matter how pregnant you are. And they will continue until they kill your child and then I will have Anja give you the medicines to abort it so you are ready for my pleasure."

She spat in his face.

"You're a monster!" she hissed, fighting once more-but the door behind him opened and four of his men surged into the room.

"The lady Astrid will be moving into my home, in preparation for our nuptials," Torgeir told them, never taking his eyes off Astrid's face. "She is overwrought at the prospect and so she must be confined for her own safety. She is only to speak with Healer Anja, who will monitor her pregnancy-and with Frida-who can teach her the duties of a wife on Granite Isle." The men grabbed Astrid's arms and hauled her from the room, scooping up her packs as they wen. Screaming and howling, Astrid fought all the way.

"This isn't over!" she roared. "No matter what happens, I will never marry you!"

"Oh you will, Astrid-and if you want those you care for to survive, you'll do exactly as I command."

...

A/N: Next update tomorrow!