Six: Hunted

The visitors were up early, eager to get out into the forests of Berk and go hunting dragons while the older teens were preparing to accompany the hunt. Hiccup was panicking because he had failed Dragon Training and now he would be expected to demonstrate the skills he patently did not possess. So he had slept poorly in his old bed, lying on the hard wooden base, staring at the ceiling he had inspected so many times as a child and sighing. It was no longer his room, his home, but the memories ached because there had been so much disappointment and sorrow there...and prior to that, for a few brief years, his father had loved him and he had been sort of happy.

He had gotten up before the dawn and headed down to the well to draw the water for the house, then head back to the forge to find Astrid already up and zinging with tension. She had slept in his space in the workshop until her house was finished but expected to spend her first night there that night. She stared at his shape as he slumped onto Gobber's stool and dug his hands worriedly into his hair.

"And I'm dead," he told her frantically. "I've been running over it all night in my head and if the dragons don't kill me, Snotlout probably will." She sighed: she had warned him that Snotlout was plotting and though they both knew that the Heir was painfully stupid, he was very capable of cunning and ruthlessness.

"I'll watch him," she promised, "as long as you watch out for those dragons!" He gave a small sigh and nodded, his head bowed.

"I'm sure they'll be watching out for me," he groaned "They need toothpicks, after all..." She slapped his shoulder and he winced.

"Stop putting yourself down," she ordered him irritably. "Honestly, Hiccup-in one day, you've gotten three houses rebuilt-including mine, which I honestly thought would never happen-and you've really given as good as you've got from Thuggory. So you're doing fine!"

"And that so fills me with confidence," he sighed, running his hands through his hair again. "Thuggory has got his eye on you, by the way." She started and stared at him, her eyes narrowing.

"What?" she asked in an icy voice. His shoulders slumped at her annoyance.

"Um, sorry," he apologised. "But he's spotted the most beautiful woman on Berk and he fancies himself as a ladies' man...and he'll expect you to swoon and fall at his feet..." The furious look on her face would melt metal and he shrugged. "Not that you ever would," he added hastily. I hope, he added silently.

"Arrogant boar," Astrid spat irritably. "He's just like Snotlout except taller...and smarter... All the Heirs are the same..." Hiccup sighed and she realised what she had said. "Except you," she amended, feeling guilty. His green gaze flicked up.

"Be careful," he warned her. "He may seem to be pleasant but he can be ruthless when he's got his eye on something." She shrugged.

"I don't have any money or connections,' she reminded him softly, sitting by him and shrugging. "Can't see the Heir of Meathead wanting to marry a girl from Berk with no family or dowry..."

"But you are our Shield Maiden," Hiccup pointed out, relishing her closeness. "And our best warrior. I wouldn't put it past them to want you just to deprive us of you."

"And I will refuse," she told him firmly. "I am not leaving Berk-especially not of that ass!" He very cautiously took her hand and stared into her azure eyes.

"Just...be careful around him," he advised in a low voice. "I would hate for you be to be targeted as a prize in a game to humiliate Berk..." Her hand curled around his.

"I'll take care if you do," she told him earnestly. "And keep an eye on Snotlout!"

"Boy, this is going to be fun," he grumbled. "The first time I've been on a hunt-and I'm the prey."

By the time the sun was up and Hiccup had returned from the forge, Stoick was up and ready to go, silently offering the young man a hunk of bread and cold yak meat. Head down, Hiccup slid into the chair opposite, immediately feeling that failure of a fifteen year old boy again. The Chief stared at the young man as he ate self-consciously and then took a sip of his ale.

"You don't eat enough," he told Hiccup gruffly and his son flicked a defensive look at him, then stared back at his plate.

"Not your concern any more," he said slowly. "Whether I am permitted to eat or chased out of the Great Hall of abused for coming to take a break after nearly an entire day working without a rest, you made it clear it wasn't your business." He swallowed.

"You're thin," Stoick commented. Hiccup almost dropped his plate and stared at his father.

"You mean you never wondered why people called me a fishbone?" Hiccup replied.

"Stay close to me," the Chief ordered him. "I'm not sure what the Meatheads will get up to but I wouldn't put it past Mogadon to try to get you harmed. And his son is mean and cunning."

"Thanks for the warning," Hiccup said tonelessly. The Chief cleared his throat.

"Just because things have worked out...the way they have...doesn't mean I don't care for you..." he began awkwardly. Hiccup did drop his plate at that and stared at him, emerald eyes wide in utter shock before an unfamiliar flicker of anger crossed his face.

"Actually, it means exactly that," he reminded his father coldly. "You gave away my birthright, you disowned me, you told me you couldn't even warn me or show me any affection because 'it had to be real' so you utterly ruined my life and broke my heart...and now you claim that you still care for me?" He rose and glared at his father. "Thor, I didn't think you could be even more insensitive, Stoick-but it seems I was wrong. Because that is the single most crass and hurtful thing I have ever heard." He rose and headed for the stairs. "I'll get my sword. I think I may need it." Stoick rose as well.

"Hiccup, I-I..." he began, unable to frame the words-that somehow, he had realised that his son wasn't the weak and useless prospect he had appeared as a scrawny lad of fifteen. The young man paused halfway up the stairs, though he didn't look back to the huge flame-haired shape of the Chief.

"Prove it," Hiccup said in a cool voice. "Actions speak truer than words. So far, all your actions have shown is that you believed I was too weak to be your Heir but that the person you chose to replace me was so unsuited that you had to order me to pretend to be what you removed from me. If you imagine you care for me-Dad-then show it." And then he headed up to the platform and collected his sword. Below him, Stoick stared after his son for a long time before turning and walking away. Hiccup's hand closed on the sword as he heard the door thud closed and he gave a shuddering sigh. All he ever wanted was his father's affection and approval...but he guessed now there was no chance he would ever earn that.

He emerged as the Meatheads arrived in front of the Chief's House, weapons in hand. Stoick had ordered the older teens, Spitelout, Hoark and Ack to attend. Gustav and the rest of the fire crew were also coming. Mogadon and Thuggory were in good spirits, armed to the teeth and wagering how many dragons they would slay while Snotlout was smirking and baiting the Meathead Heir. The Chiefs set out at the front of the party and Hiccup drifted forward until he was close to Stoick and Thuggory, listening to his opposite number and hearing the man sneer a disparaging comment about himself.

The walk was steep and the twins and Snotlout were soon moaning that it was too far and that their feet were hurting. Once over the mountain that formed most of the village, Berk flattened out a little and spread back into a series of valleys, ridges and coves all covered in dense fir forests. All the Hooligans knew that the island was infested with dragons and there were dragon traps set in various places. Hiccup was on alert, his hand close to the hilt of his sword and eyes drifting to check the others. Astrid was on alert her eyes darting over the vegetation, seeking for dragon sign and the fire crew were tailing Hiccup, muttering insults and disparaging comments just loud enough for the fake Heir to hear.

"Are we there yet?" Snotlout moaned, his mouth turned down in an expression of discontent. The twins instantly took up the refrain.

"Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are..."

"SHUT! UP!" the Chief bellowed in anger and rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed was his actual Heir and his friends behaving like five year olds in front of the troublesome Meathead visitors. For about the dozenth time in the last day, he was doubting the wisdom of his decision to make Snotlout his Heir in favour of Hiccup. The young auburn-haired Viking quietly walked forward-then paused and his head snapped round as the shrubbery rustled and a flaming green and orange Nadder erupted out.

Everyone leapt back and Hiccup almost snatched his sword-but he saw the dragon startled by their proximity-and only heard the growl the moment his hand dropped to the sword. Instinctively, he removed his hand and the growl died...until Astrid lunged forward. The dragon snapped round, pupils vanishing to slits, spines snapping up and a roar rumbling through its scaly body. Hiccup ducked under the swinging tail as the Shield Maiden dodged into the dragon's blind spot and slowly swayed until it pulled away...and the Thuggory attacked with his axe, hacking the exposed neck. The Nadder gave a despairing shriek as the other Meatheads all fell on the dragon and Hiccup ducked back, his face vaguely distressed.

The dragon had been startled and had calmed when he took his hand away from the sword, showing he was not a threat. Did it understand that much? Could it respond like an intelligent beast, only attacking when threatened?

He blinked. It was dead now and no one would ever know.

"You froze!" Snotlout sneered. "Some Heir you are!"

"Astrid was in no danger," Hiccup said baldly, staring at the corpse. He had seen dead Vikings and dead dragons before but he never killed for fun or sport. In fact, he had probably never killed anything anyway. "And the Hunt was for our guests." Thuggory looked up, a smear of dragon blood on his cheek.

"You were welcome to chip in," he noted, reading distaste in Hiccup's face. The young Hooligan swallowed.

"Didn't want to spoil your fun," he said hollowly. Stoick frowned and glared at him. "You hunt: I'll only kill if threatened."

"So you're a coward," Mogadon accused him, wiping his axe on his arm-bindings. Pale, Hiccup shook his head.

"I have seen too much battle and death to find killing for sport in any way amusing," he said evenly. "I respect your wishes-but I'll leave slaughtering dumb animals to our guests." Astrid cast him an annoyed glance: she couldn't understand this qualms. These were dragons, after all. The same mindless beasts that killed her parents and hundreds of villagers over the years-and yet he was unwilling to slay them.

"The only good dragon is a dead dragon," she said and he backed away, feeling the familiar weight of failure fall over him. For a sickening moment, he was back in Dragon Training, being so utterly hopeless with Astrid screaming at him that he should work out which side of the war he was on. That he should just leave the class if he wasn't good enough-and Stoick had accepted her suggestion. He lost almost everything then. If Astrid was angry at him now, if his weakness lost her...

"As you say," he murmured tonelessly and Snotlout sniggered. The sound snapped Astrid from her anger and she saw his shoulders drop into the familiar slump, the defeated pose he had largely managed to keep at bay returning. Cursing herself for her temper and shocked that after all the insults from the Meatheads, her words broke his facade, she walked to his side and hefted her axe back across her back.

"But hunting for sport is not the Hooligan way," she forced herself to say, her azure gaze directed at  the visitors. "Maybe we could locate some further sport for our guests?" Stoick nodded curtly, turning away and stomping off. Snotlout scurried after him, offering some smug comments to the Chief and the Meatheads followed, Thuggory casting a calculating glance at the stiff shape of Hiccup, watching as Astrid leaned towards him. "Are you okay?" she murmured. He nodded.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I knew your parents were killed by dragons but...you know me..." He tried to give a wan smile. "I'd probably get myself eaten and embarrass the entire Tribe..." She walked alongside him, seeing him look ashamed. "I can't fight dragons-we proved that three years ago. But you go on-because someone here has to uphold the honour of the Tribe." He shrugged. "I promise I'll try not to get eaten while you impress our guests!" She smiled and punched his shoulder.

"You dork," she said. "You better not. Who would look after my axe then?" His eyes twinkled and his smile was a little more genuine.

"Ha! So that's all I am to you," he managed in a plaintive voice. "Axe sharpener extraordinaire..."

"Damned right," she smirked and accelerated to catch up with the Chief.

"You know you're never going to have a girlfriend?" Gustav asked him cruelly. "She's way above you!"

"You too, I think," Hiccup murmured, seeing the boy watch the lithe, toned shape of Astrid half-run to pull alongside the Chief, tilting her head up to answer his question and smile. And he saw Thuggory inspect her with a covetous look, making his heart sink. "But someone else has his eye on her, Gustav."

"No one will marry her," Gustav said. "She's poor with no family."

I would. In a second. But she deserves so much better.

"Come on," Hiccup sighed, ignoring the rest of the fire crew. "Maybe you can get yourself eaten by a Monstrous Nightmare."

"The most powerful dragon in the Archipelago!" Gustav exclaimed. "Cool!"

Half a mile further along brought them to a group of Gronckles and the Meathead, Snotlout and the twins all got stuck in, hacking at the lumpy, tough-skinned dragons that spat lava at the attackers, trying to fly away from the ambush. Stoick and the Meatheads stood to one side as Hiccup stood alongside Astrid. He sighed, seeing his cousin showing off but noting the dragons trying to protect a smaller, female who seemed to have an injured wing. He looked instead at the Meatheads and saw Modagon murmuring to his retinue and son, their eyes trailing over Astrid. Misgivings landed in his stomach like lead, worrying what they had planned.

The morning trailed on and they encountered more Nadders and a pair of Monstrous Nightmares that fought furiously. Even Hiccup had needed to join in to keep them corralled and Astrid had fought furiously, landing a few heavy blows on the smaller dragon while the Meathead Chief had dispatched the larger. Thuggory took over and killed the second dragon, laughing as he landed the lethal blow. Astrid stood back, seeing him exult as the dragon gave a pathetic whimper and collapsed, its last heaving breaths leaving it. Hiccup felt something akin to sadness at watching it die and shook himself: what was wrong with him? It was a dragon, for Thor's sake.

"We make a great team," Thuggory said to her, his face beaded with sweat from his exertions. He smeared the dragon's blood on his cheeks and then leaned forward, dabbing a smear on each of her cheeks. Her eyes widened and she backed away, swiping the stuff from her skin with an expression of disgust.

"I thought Hiccup was exaggerating but you are a fine warrior," the Meathead Chief growled, his eyes sweeping over her face. "Yes, you might have been worthy of a Shield Maiden as well..."

"Chief Stoick, I demand the hand of Astrid Hofferson," Thuggory said boldly, his eyes determined.

"What? No!" Astrid protested. "I am not marrying anyone!"

"Astrid-when the Heir of an Allied Tribe asks for a member of the Tribe for his wife, I cannot refuse unless there is a pre-existing contract," Stoick told her with regret in his eyes.

"But I am a Shield Maiden," she protested. "I want to dedicate my life to battle and honour, not becoming a wife and mother!"

"Astrid," the Chief said sadly, "lass-I am afraid there is no way out of this."

"But...but..." she protested, her eyes wide with shock. "Sir...I trusted you! You promised to protect me after my parents died. How is this protecting me?"

"It's protecting the Tribe," he admitted in a heavy voice. "I am sorry..." Thuggory gave a smirk and reached for her-but someone got there first, a tall, lean shape pushing her behind him and facing the smirking Thuggory. Hiccup's emerald eyes were absolutely determined, glittering with anger.

"You can't have her," he said firmly. "The Heir gets first pick of all the women on Berk-ahead of even a visiting dignitary. And I choose...Astrid Hofferson." Thuggery's face curled into an angry scowl, a look of hatred at being thwarted.

"I have already claimed her," he snapped. Hiccup lifted his chin, brows dipping and hand gently closing around hers.

"Too late," he breathed. "She's mine!" The Meathead Heir leaned forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"You're a coward and a liar," he hissed. "I will have her. Fight me or we will declare Berk an island of cowards and liars across the Archipelago."

"Son..." Stoick growled, his eyes hardening as he glared at the auburn-haired shape.

"No, Dad," Hiccup said determinedly. "That is the law. And as Heir, I choose Astrid for my bride. I accept!" But as Thuggory drew, roaring a challenge, he shook his head. "In the Arena, Thuggory. Not in the middle of the forest, where tree roots and a carelessly stuck out foot from your retinue could skew the result..." Stoick's eyes widened in shock: it was a remarkably cool-headed observation from a man who was clearly facing defeat. Hoark and Spitelout muttered in assent, hands on their weapons. Stoick inspected the tall shape of his disowned son and knew that he was playing an incredibly dangerous game-but it was the only option he had to spare Astrid. And it was plain, even to Stoick's rather insensitive eye, that the young man really cared for the girl, no matter whether or not it was requited. He was prepared to risk his life to save her from an unwanted marriage to Thuggory-but at least he would uphold the honour of Berk. He nodded.

"My son is correct," he announced. "They can fight in the Arena." Mogadon scored but gave a nod and beckoned his son closer, muttering orders into his ear. Breathing hard, Hiccup turned to face Astrid-who looked furious.

"What in Thor's name do you think you're doing?" she hissed. He swallowed.

"The only thing I could," he murmured softly, leaning close to her. She looked up into the gentle emerald eyes, still lit with his determination. But rage was still boiling in her chest.

"I don't need you to protect me," she hissed. "I can take care of myself..."

"So you want to marry Thuggory? My mistake-I'll just tell him so he doesn't try to kill me!" Hiccup hissed back.

"No-I don't want to marry anyone!" she spat.

"Yes, I know that!" he replied urgently. "But the moment he demanded you for his wife, you lost that option. Stoick would not deny him because we need the Meatheads as allies. Heir's Privilege is the only way I could ensure you didn't sail back to Meathead as his bride-to-be, Astrid. And I am sorry because I know you can fight better than me and I would rather see you fight Thuggory as well but I have to do this." She stared into his face.

"What about only fighting when you were threatened?" she asked him, calming a little. She could read the anxiety in his face and knew his low opinion of his fighting abilities...though she knew he was reasonably skilled with the sword.

"Um...I was," he reminded her softly. "I was threatened with having my friend forced into marriage and stolen to another island. I think that's worth fighting for..." She smiled suddenly and punched his shoulder.

"That's for stepping in a protecting me," she said, reminding him that she really didn't need that sort of protection. He yelped and eyed her warily. Then she swiped the bangs from her left eye and pecked a very swift kiss onto his cheek. "And that's for...well, being sweet and risking your life for me." His cheek warmed with a blush and a goofy smile split his face.

"Anything for you, Milady," he said gently as they turned to follow the rest of the party as they headed back towards Berk. But Astrid's eyes narrowed with concern as she saw Snotlout leaning towards Thuggory and whispering as they walked along. Nodding, Thuggory and Mogadon paid very close attention to his words. With a groan, she guessed he was already helping the visitors against his cousin and his Tribe. Seeing her watching, his blue eyes crinkled as he gave a nasty, smug smile before turning back to the Meathead Heir and continuing his urgent conversation.

Astrid knew she would have to keep a very close eye on Snotlout because she certainly couldn't trust him to do the right thing for Berk-or anyone but himself.