Castaway

7. An Eye For An Ingerman

Hiccup's P.O.V

By morning Heather was doing better, her natural rosy flush had returned to her cheeks and her scratches had all scabbed over. Astrid stayed up all night watching over her, refusing to sleep or let any of the guards come near her friend. She had seen how ruthless they had become, and wasn't going to take any chances.

Of course I could expect no less from her, she was Astrid after all. She had seen cruelty on Dead North Island herself from Viggo, as well as the rest of the rides have for all of our lives. But that was Viggo, and this was Ama. As cruel and sadistic as he had been somehow we all knew that Ama was much worse.

And yet I worried for her. The dark circles painted beneath her icy blue eyes and the bruises littering her body stabbed a fresh wound in my heart each time I saw them. She needed to sleep and keep her strength for the challenges.

"Astrid, you need to sleep. Just for a bit." I pleaded, taking her hands in both of mine. "We don't know when you'll be called for your challenge, and you being sleep deprived won't help." 

"How can I sleep when she's like that though? How can any of us?"

"Because it is going to be all of us eventually. We need to keep our wits about us, you won't be able to help her, yourself, or any of us if you're running ragged." Despite my fears and worries my usual strength found me for the first time since Astrid's disappearance. At least one of us had to be strong until the rest of us caught up, it would do us no good to have two sleep deprived and anxious people in this conversation.

Astrid opens her mouth, presumably to concede, when the door to the small cell swings open, and in steps no other than Ama herself.

"Easy." She purrs, seeing us all preparing to attack. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to heal your friend before we take the next contestant." I inhaled a sharp breath. Please don't let it be Astrid. Not today, not when she is so tired she can barely walk straight.

"Fishlegs Ingerman." I tried to hide my sigh of relief, and felt a pang of guilt when I saw the horror so clearly written across his face. How could I hope for the fate to be passed from her to someone else? 

Ama juts her chin in the direction of the sleeping form of Heather, and then the rest of us. Two guards escorted Fishlegs out first, before the third guard picks up Heather. Astrid lunged for the raven haired girl, but my arms firmly encircled her waist, holding her exhausted form in place.

"They're going to heal her, remember?" I murmured in her ear, feeling her slump defeated against my chest. The remaining guards step forward to escort each of us to gods know where. I glared defensively when one of the guards tries to tear her from my grasp, but it is Astrid who lands a strong blow to his jaw when he wrapped his large fist around her arm.

"I can walk myself." She hissed, yanking her arm back and following the rest out the door, her chin raised high in defiance. Ama smirked and mumbled something to herself, before falling into step beside me. 

"She really is something special. She reminds me of your father back in the day. Always the warrior, always strong even to the point of breaking. So young and yet so ready to lay her life on the line for these people every day. You've chosen a good chieftess." The redhead notes, her fine black gown trailing behind us both like a sultry midnight river. 

"What's your point?"

"And you remind me of your mother. Valka." She spat my mother's name as if it were poison upon her tongue, and I fought the urge to strangle her now and be done with this. "Driven by passion despite the intellect hiding right there between those unassuming eyes. You want peace, though sometimes the only way to achieve this peace is through war."