A/N: The first three paragraphs are from the last three paragraphs of chapter nine. This chapter is a continuation of what happened after. The paragraphs after will be in third person point of view.

Chapter Eleven

A day before Hiccup's incident...

A s t r i d

I refused to believe any of this, even if this diary is right in my hands. Even if I faintly recognized these adventures in the entrees. Still, I couldn't remember any of this ever happening.

A sharp pain struck my head, and I screamed. I couldn't remember anything! I didn't want to remember! It's too painful to, like something was keeping me from unlocking the tightly chained up memories in my mind by inducing pain.

"Astrid!" Hean yelled and ran to my side. I tightly clutched the diary, and ran away from the harbor, and from reality.

The village was lit up by torches, and the fire sizzled and crackled in the serene evening. Astrid ran past them, slightly disturbing the flames. Hean's shouts became more distant the farther she ran away from the sea.

She hastily opened the door to her home, then slammed the door behind her. She faced the dark living room of the house, sinking down to the ground. The house had been occupied by only her supposed mother and herself for many years. After her father died, everything changed for the worse. She'd never admit it to anyone, but she was rather lonely as her mother secluded herself in her room more and more each year. Tears threatened to pour out from her eyes, but she wiped them away with the palm of her hand.

Astrid breathed out in broken breaths of air as she stood up to find a match to light up the candles inside the lamps around the house. She placed down the diary on a wooden table, and went around to busy herself. She soon found out that no matter what she did to divert her mind's attention elsewhere, the ominous feeling to open and read the diary settled deeply into her mind.

As a last resort to rid of the unwanted feeling, if only temporarily, she decided to seek out Ingrid Hofferson, her mother, and ask some questions that plagued her mind. However, Astrid hadn't spoken to her mother in a few months, and was unsure whether or not to bother her. After another wary glance at the diary, she made up her mind to talk to her mother.

Astrid slowly but surely climbed the steps to the second level. When she gingerly stepped onto the top step, she eyed the door at the end of the short hallway. She knew her mother was cooped up in there, for Ingrid never left it until she got hungry enough to scavenge for food.

She lightly stepped across the creaky wooden floor to the door while dreading all the possibilities of the talk turning into arguments. Her blonde hair was matted across her forehead as she sweat profusely. Holding her breath, she rapt on the bedroom door three times.

"Come in." Ingrid's voice lightly carried through the wooden door.

Astrid grasped the handle and squeezed. A few seconds later, she swung open the door, and revealed her mother slumped down on the floor in the middle of the room. Woolen blankets were strewn all around her, and she herself was covered in a massive wool cloak.

Astrid stared into her mother's blank face, and immediately noticed her sunken in cheekbones, the dark bags under her eyes, and her frail physique. She whimpered when she saw her mother in this shape. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she quickly swiped them away.

She walked across the short distance to where her mother sat, then knelt down beside her. Astrid smiled sadly at her mother before she softly grasped her mother's frail hands.

"Mother, it's me, Astrid. Your daughter." she spoke in a soft voice. Ingrid lifted her head up to look at her daughter's face. She lifted one of her pale hands to caress her daughter's cheek. "My daughter, as lovely as always."

Unable to hold in her tears, she closed her eyes as trails of tears slid down her cheeks. She lifted her arms and held her mother for comfort. Her light sniffling soon turned into loud sobs as she let out all the feelings she kept suppressed. While all this was happening, her mother wrapped her arms around her and held her close. It was this gesture that made her realize the reason why she couldn't open the diary.

She was afraid. The "fearless" Astrid Hofferson was afraid to open up the diary and venture into the unknown and unfamiliar. She was afraid to lose the only family and people that cared so much for her. She didn't want change, but it was selfish of her to think like that. It was finally time she realized that change was inevitable.

A new form of determination settled in her, and she bravely opened her eyes. She confidently put a stop to the wracking sobs and the shaking of her body. When she finally calmed down, she pulled away from her mother's warm embrace. She had something to say before she left.

Staring into her mother's brown eyes, she smiled genuinely. Something that she hadn't done in some time. "Thank you, for everything you've done for me." Astrid stood up and ever so slowly backed away. "Take care of yourself."

Ingrid surprised Astrid when a few tears escaped down her mother's face. Eyes widening, she stopped her slow progression. Unknowingly, there were also tears dripping down Astrid's face. Everything around them stilled until all they heard and saw were the emotions they were feeling.

A moment passed before Astrid broke the silence. Smiling again, she spoke, "You will always be my mother and I will always be your daughter, no matter what happens or changes." At that, she turned away and confidently stepped through the entrance.

"Astrid, wait."

The person being called turned around, surprise showing clearly on her face. Her mother was smiling, something she hadn't done in a long time, and it shocked Astrid beyond imagination. Her mother opened her mouth and spoke, "Stay safe, my daughter."

Astrid's shocked expression turned into a warm smile. Turning back around, with her determination regained, she stepped out of the room and closed the wooden door behind her. A burst of raw energy filled her as she jumped down the stairs, grabbed the diary from atop the table, unhinged a lamp from the wall, and ran out the door to the outside world.

It was then she laughed. Really laughed. Loud enough that it reached the other side of the island. It was filled with sadness, relief, and determination. She, Astrid Hofferson, had just now conquered her fear of change, and it felt refreshing.

Grasping the diary to her chest with one hand and the lamp in the other, she dashed away from the village and ran away to the forest. As she ran, she knew it was time to accept her past and to remember. And the key to remembrance was the diary she held in her hand. She just knew it.
________________

A/N: A wave of inspiration hit me during the night, and I had to write it down. And it lead to this chapter being finished after so long. Well, I hope you enjoyed.

It's almost 2016!