I'm getting married, Spike.
Oh my dear, sweet gods, I'm getting married.
This is a bit terrifying.
Just a bit, though. Because I'd rather be getting married to Hiccup than not getting married to Hiccup that's for sure.
It's rushed. It's all so rushed. It's winter, so food's a bit tight. The feast is likely to be a bit of a sad affair, but Stoick said we can have another one when the warm weather hits. I'm simply glad my mother found her bridal crown. It's Odins-day. So two days.
Two days, and I'll be married. The day after, I could be widowed.
I'm trying not to think about that.
Stoick wasn't the least bit surprised when Hiccup told him, awkwardly clutching my hand. He just (maybe? I am so glad Hiccup didn't grow his beard!) smiled a bit smugly at me. Then he yanked his door open and bellowed out into the freezing day to the few men outside to 'get your rumps in here, right now!'
Hiccup made the declaration of handsal before his father, Spitelout Jorgenson, Hensteeth Ingerman, Crosseyes Gudmunsson, Bob the Sled, Phil the Sheep, the sleeping Toothless and me. Stoick simply grabbed whoever was outside the lodge to act as witnesses in his eagerness. It was all incredibly irregular and the poor boy stammered through the whole thing.
My mother actually cried when Hiccup formally asked permission. Whoa, time out. I mean, my Mum doesn't cry. She's a shieldmaiden. I don't think she cried when they burned Dad. But she actually got all blubbery and hugged me as tightly as I've ever been hugged, and then grabbed Hiccup and did the same. Hiccup looked like he was going to die of embarrassment, but patted her back clumsily. "Um, thanks, Gerda," he mumbled. I smirked at him.
"Call m-me Mum," she said damply, and tweaked his cheek. "Such a ha-ha-haaaaandsome s-son I'm getting," she sobbed.
Hiccup gave me a look of silent helplessness. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to hold off laughing.
"Okay" he said uncertainly. "Er… Mum."
Mum absolutely bawled at that and clutched at him harder. I pried her off and dragged him outside before I keeled over in hysterics.
"Astrid, your mum was… never like that before," Hiccup said weakly as I dragged him back towards the smithy. Thankfully he'd developed that spiked snow-and-ice foot, so he was able to make it easily. "All… soggy, I mean."
So. Hard. To keep. Serious face on.
I made a strangled little noise that could be taken as agreement.
"She pinched my cheek," Hiccup groaned in absolute mortification. "I mean, come on, no-one over the age of four should have their cheek pinched. There should be a law."
"Mmm," I managed and pushed him into the smithy in front of me. As he turned back to me, running a hand through his hair, I slammed the door and leaned on it, and finally broke into gales and gales of laughter right in his astonished face.
"Oh… oh gods! Your face!" I gasped once I'd got my breath – mostly. "When she… ahahA… aha… she pinched your cheek!"
Hiccup's expression was a trifle wounded, but the twitch of his lips told me he could also see the funny side. "Is it some sort of Hofferson humiliation ritual?"
"Aha… Ahmm…" I wiped at my eyes, "I never, ever, not in a million years thought my mother would react like that."
"That was pretty terrible," Hiccup protested, his lip still twitching. I decided to go along with it.
"Aw, poor thing," I said sympathetically. "Come here."
Now, all our earlier kisses, including the one in Toothless' cove, had been innocent, in a way. The pecks on the cheek and lips when we were children pretending to be more. The soft, sweet affirmation of the day before.
So when I tell you that Hiccup pushed me up against the door and plundered my mouth… well. It was a… revelation, to say the least.
My breath abruptly caught somewhere in my throat, and I clutched at him reflexively, desperately. One of his hands pushed possessively through my hair and the other grabbed at my hip. His mouth was insistent and warm and wet, kissing me fast and sloppy and wonderful. It was all so wonderful. I moaned. I had no idea that this was inside Hiccup.
"You… gonna kiss it better?" he breathed, before kissing me again. This time his tongue moved into my mouth and brushed against mine.
Oh. Oh.
An answering spark of sensation tightened in my core when he did that. My eyes flew open in surprise and I growled in pleasure.
"You… bet," I breathed back throatily. For Thor's sake, was that my voice? "You've… obviously suffered and… should be rewarded."
"Mmm," he answered, smiling against my lips, before diving into them again. My arms tightened around his shoulders, my fingers digging hard enough to bruise. I'd started breathing again, but so fast, so very fast…
Hiccup played against my tongue for some time, before I decided to take the reins, moving from his lovely searching mouth and kissing down that thin throat. The sharp burr of his stubble felt incredible under my lips. I had no idea what I was doing, but kept mouthing and nipping down his neck until I finally came to that beautiful collarbone. The temptation was too much, and I did as I'd wanted to for weeks and bit it, hard.
Hiccup's strangled groan ignited another spark in me, and his hand convulsively tightened on my hip.
And then a voice said, "Ah, good t' know the fight's over then, but I've been waiting to get out for five minutes."
I lost my breath again, and Hiccup's eyes snapped open, staring at me in horror.
"Tell me we didn't just make out in front of Gobber," he whispered to me.
"Ah, I have some bad news," I whispered back, looking over his shoulder. Gobber was standing there, looking incredibly amused, his arms folded and an eyebrow raised.
"Oh no," Hiccup whimpered.
"So I'm guessing that there'll be a feast this Friggas-day?" Gobber was obviously enjoying himself immensely.
"That's right," I answered as calmly as I could. No way I was going to be embarrassed, though Hiccup was going a violent shade of red.
"Congratulations," said Gobber dryly.
Wow. Okay, dinner tonight was…
If I needed any more proof that Hiccup was still Hiccup, well, tonight was it. The sheer, unadulterated awkward.
He looked distracted when he walked into the mead-hall. When he saw me, he brightened visibly and hurried over. That could go to a girl's head.
"Hey," he greeted me briefly, but his smile was warm. "So, I've got my family's sword from the barrow – don't ask – and I know it doesn't have to be perfect or anything, but I was wondering whether you could help me practise the stabbity-the-post thing? Oh, hi guys," he added to Snotlout and Tuffnut who were sitting across from me.
"Sword?" asked Snotlout suspiciously, looking between us.
"Um, yeah," Hiccup replied, blushing like a furnace.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him down onto the bench. "Sure, I'll help you practise. But your hammer is still more important, Hiccup, you have to concentrate on that."
He sighed gustily, and tapped the mostly-finished hammer strapped to his side. "I know, I know. But I've only got tomorrow to figure out the sword, and hey look, a whole two days to get my Thor on."
"Quit worrying," I nudged him in the side. "Eat something."
Sometimes it's hard to be Viking-impassive in front of everyone all the time. Glad I can talk to you, Spike my girl. Because I can tell you that I had thought about what could happen on that third day, and I was scared. Scared to lose him.
As Hiccup piled up his plate, Tuffnut leaned forward with sly interest all over his face. "Soooo, stabbing a post sometime soon then, Hiccup?"
Hiccup dropped the piece of mutton he'd been picking up. "Ummm…."
"Dude!" Snotlout smacked him between the shoulderblades, knocking Hiccup's plate out of his hands, "you're getting married? Dude!"
"Knew she'd catch you eventually," Tuff grinned.
"Er," I said.
"She was making life miserable. Mum was going out of her head, trying to get everything she asked for sewn up," Tuff continued. "Ruff always did get what she wanted in the end."
Hiccup picked up the plate. "Ah, Tuff? I think you have sort of exactly the wrong idea…"
"How is Hiccup the first one of us to get married?" Snotlout joked, "The gods have a crazy sense of humour."
"Hey, question really is, how is Hiccup the first one of us to score any tail?" Tuff sniggered at Snotlout, who gave a tragic sigh.
"I guess that means you and I are going to have to move to Phlock," he told Tuff, "since Astrid here won't…" he then waggled his eyebrows at me.
"Since I'm marrying Hiccup, your chances have dwindled to 'not in this life or the next'," I replied calmly, taking a sip of my water.
Tuff dropped his fork.
"Not…" and his eyes slowly fixed on Hiccup, who shook his head.
"It was never going to happen, Tuff," he mumbled. "I've… I've been in love with Astrid since I was, like, ten years old. Ruff is… well, she's an absolutely terrifying woman, but she can't scare me the way Astrid can."
I felt an incredible warm glow at that.
"Oh, Gjalp and Ginnungagap, who's going to tell her?" Tuff whimpered. "And can I move to Phlock first?"
"Coward," I said flatly.
"You didn't have to live with her," Tuff moaned. "She's a nightmare, except she doesn't set herself on fire, she sets herself on pure crazy."
"You're… marrying Hiccup," Snotlout said faintly.
"Yes," I said, and grabbed that clever, long-fingered hand. His fingers curled through mine automatically, and I tried to hide my smile.
"Life is not fair," Snotlout grumbled. "Will you wait for the harvest?"
"Nope, not fair," I agreed.
"We, er, have to make it as soon as possible," Hiccup's voice was both happy and worried. I squeezed his hand.
Both pairs of eyes were now round as saucers.
"No. Way," said Snotlout incredulously.
"Man, you didn't!" Tuff breathed. "So Astrid is…"
"No!" I slammed my cup down. "NO. I'm not, and we haven't."
"Oh gods," Hiccup moaned.
"You, be quiet," I nudged him again, "because every time you speak, disasters happen."
"Wow," Snotlout smacked his back again, and Hiccup choked. "Way to go, cuz."
"But…!"
"Guys, I'm not…" I began, but Tuff started pulling at his hair.
"My life is officially over," he groaned, "Hiccup had sex before me."
"We haven't…!" I said hotly, but Snotlout was elbowing Hiccup conspiratorially now.
"So how was it, tiger? Gimme the details. Did you make her…" and here he made a gesture that set Hiccup's face aflame again. I growled.
"For Odin's sake, I AM NOT PREGNANT!" I yelled.
The sudden silence in the hall was deafening. Every head was turned towards us.
I groaned, and my head dropped to the table. Hard.
I felt someone clumsily patting my back. Hiccup. "Um," he said to the assembled clansmen and women. "So, if you didn't catch all that, uh, well, Astrid and I are getting married on Friggas-day. And there was no… ah, prior…" he gave me a look that clearly said, 'help!'
"We haven't ruined anyone's reputation," I said clearly and angrily, "I was trying to convince a pair of idiots."
Snotlout and Tuffnut grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," Snotlout waved weakly.
"You're what?" Ruff's voice shrieked into the silence.
"Oh no," Tuffnut whimpered, and sank under the table.
"Ah, anyone for ale?" Snotlout hurriedly stood and scurried over to the barrels, where he hid.
Ruffnut stormed over to us, and an outbreak of whispering amongst the tribe followed her. "Congratulations, Astrid," she hissed at me. "Lessons paid off then, I hear."
"Nothing happened!" I snarled.
"Like I believe it," she said crossly, and leaned over to stab her dagger into and through my plate. "Outside. Now. Or are you afraid to hurt the baby?"
I tried to regard her calmly.
It wasn't working.
"Ruffnut," said Hiccup, and his voice was surprisingly firm and low. "I don't love you. I love Astrid. I always have." His eyes met mine, serious and warm. "She's everything to me."
"You'd follow anyone who showed you a bit of kindness," she whirled, and when she looked at him there was a touch of pain in her eyes.
That was a surprise. I didn't think she actually cared for him.
Still, insults delivered had to be answered. I stood. "My axe is at home. Can I borrow someone's?"
"Oh no, please, Astrid, Ruff," Hiccup sank down lower on the bench and put his head in his hands.
"Has to be done, love," I said bluntly.
"But fighting like this over—wait, did you just call me…"
"Here," shouted my mother, and threw me Dad's axe. I snatched it out of the air and ran my fingers down the intricately braided handle.
"Let's go," I growled.
"Looking forward to it," Ruffnut drawled, and led the way out into the freezing night.
Someone had obviously run to get Stoick, because our vast chief was puffing his way up the hill. "Stop!" he thundered. "What in the Thunderer's name is going on here?"
The villagers who had been eating in the mead-hall tonight were pouring out of the door. Everyone likes a fight, especially in winter. Heats up the blood. "Thorston here insulted Hofferson," Spitelout crossed his brawny arms. "Said she already had your grandchild in her belly."
Angry as I was, the thought still made me redden. Ruffnut sneered at me, and pulled her axe and hatchet from her back. "Are you ready, or do you need to go throw up?" she said snidely.
I span my father's axe in my hand. Not as perfect as mine, but fitting. "I'm ready."
Ruff swang at my midsection with the hatchet in her left hand, testing me out. I pulled back easily, and sent a ferocious swing at her legs, which she jumped. Hmm.
She then began a massive overhand blow with the axe, but I caught and turned the blade with my own. That seemed to be a signal of sorts to both of us, and we started fighting in earnest.
"I don't want to hurt you, Ruff," I puffed as I punched her solidly in the mouth and followed it up with a axeblow that she hurriedly countered.
"Good," she grunted, "so I can stop worrying about that and concentrate on hurting you."
Her technique was very good, and she could spin the axe with finesse. I didn't think she was as good as me, but she'd obviously done some work over the winter. Her problem came from the hatchet in her left hand. It was a distraction rather than a help. It slowed her reactions.
"Hatchet was a mistake," I managed, and she kicked my feet out from under me. Flexing my body, I pushed myself back to my feet in a single spring. She looked annoyed. And a bit impressed.
"It's fine, see?" She swung the hatchet at my head. I ducked and sent my axe swirling at her arms.
She pulled herself back but I nicked her. Hissing, she eyed the long and bleeding cut on the hatchet-arm and then me. I'd frozen in a ready stance and watched her carefully for rash movement.
"That satisfies honour," I said quietly, though my breath was still coming fast. "Let's leave it, Ruff."
"Are you crazy?" she grinned viciously. "This is awesome fun. Besides, if I kill you I can still marry-"
Her eyes crossed and she fell forward with a thud.
Behind her, holding his hammer and looking worriedly at the limp form, was Hiccup.
"Er," he said. "Hope you don't mind the help?"
I should have minded. But I didn't.
Stoick held up his meaty hands over the laughter and jeers and cheering. "Quiet! That'll be an end to it!"
"Astrid didn't beat her!" someone yelled, and I scowled.
"No, but her husband did, and so it's done with!" Stoick roared. Hiccup looked a bit awed at the word 'husband'.
"Not her husband yet," someone grumbled. "And he cheated."
Gobber raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Riiiight. Because everyone knows fighting fair is how these things work."
There was a murmur of agreement. Gobber was right. We're Vikings. We cheat, and we win.
"Besides which, you're really going to quibble over two days?" Stoick gave the crowd an unimpressed look. "If you're that desperate for a good brawl, wait till th' day after the wedding. The folk from Brass Monkey should arrive then, an' our bridegroom here," Stoick slapped his son's back, making him stumble forward, "is going to take on Oglaranna the Aggressive herself!"
There was a collective indrawn breath, and then the whole village burst out laughing.
Hiccup pouted.