Chapt 30

105 4 0
                                    

Hiccup pov

        The radiant morning sun gently streamed into my room, accompanied by the cheerful melody of birds and the distant hum of workers beginning their day. As I gradually opened my eyes, a warm body lay beside me, and as I turned to my side, there she was—Astrid. A smile naturally adorned my face, and a blush tinged my cheeks as I admired the delicate features of her fair complexion up close.
        However, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt – the familiarity of my bed brought back memories of the previous night's indulgence in alcohol. Panic set in as I fervently hoped that our intoxicated state didn't lead to any regrettable actions. The last thing I wanted was to fuck up her life.
      With a sense of relief, I discreetly peeked under the blanket, discovering that both her clothes and my pants remained intact. Gratitude flooded me – thank the stars for that.
        My gaze returned to her, and I couldn't help but trace my finger gently across her flawless features. Every aspect of her, from the enchanting way she laughed to the depth of her personality and her captivating appearance, felt like a divine creation. She resembled a masterpiece, as if crafted by the hands of gods.
        Lost in admiration, I found myself momentarily lost in the perfection before me. Just as my thoughts danced in the ethereal glow of the moment, she began to stir. Swiftly, I closed my eyes, wary of the potential awkwardness if she caught me absorbed in the serene act of watching her sleep.
      A sudden gasp escaped her lips, prompting her to swiftly exit the bed. It was at that moment I decided to open my eyes. "Good morning, milady," I greeted. "Uh, yeah, morning," she responded, the air now tinged with a hint of awkwardness. "You good, Astrid?" I inquired. "Uh, yeah," she nervously replied, "Y-you don't happen to remember what happened last night, do ya?" I shook my head. "No, why?" A hesitancy lingered in her voice. "Uh, nothing. Um, I need to, uh, get some fresh air," she stated, swiftly leaving my room, leaving a sense of unspoken questions hanging in the air.
      Anxiety gripped me as I prayed fervently that I hadn't committed any embarrassing or foolish acts the night before. It felt reminiscent of being 15, clumsily tripping in front of her while brandishing weapons. The fear of potentially scaring her off gnawed at me; after all, she was an incredibly kind and wonderful person. Lost in my contemplations, I failed to notice the gradual creaking of my door, and suddenly, all five of my children enthusiastically leaped onto my bed, jolting me with an unexpected surprise.
     A gentle smile graced my lips as I planted kisses on their foreheads. Yet, beneath the warmth, a somber realization lingered – an ache for their losses, except for Zephyr. Ian and Saga had lost their mother, while all four of them were now without a father.
    The heartbreaking message had arrived, revealing the grim fate of their older siblings. The burden of breaking this devastating news to them weighed heavily on my shoulders. How could I convey that their entire family had been mercilessly slaughtered?
    Amidst the sorrow, a conflicted sentiment arose – the prospect of having them as my own, but not like this. This was never the way I wished for our connection to become closer be under these circumstances.
       I can't tell them yet, I just can't, not yet at least. "Make us breakfast," Erik declares, and in unison, the children echo a chorus of "Breakfast! Breakfast! Breakfast!" Their enthusiasm propels me to rise, the little ones clinging to me as we venture into the backyard. A crackling fire is kindled, and I set about crafting a morning feast – eggs accompanied by salted pig meat.
      The children, brimming with energy, frolic and play in the sunlight. Erik sits by my side, a delightful companion who never wants to stray far. Saga, securely strapped to my chest, shares in the close-knit bond. Amid the sizzling sounds of cooking, a tranquil peace settles over us, creating a lovely and quiet moment in the embrace of familial warmth.
       Regrettably, the moment takes a sour turn as Mr. Hofferson strides over with evident displeasure etched across his face. "Ah, Mr. and Mr. Hofferson, what a pleasure," I quip, sarcasm lacing my voice, accompanied by a piercing glare.
      "You better not have touched our daughter, you man-whore!" Mr. Hofferson's accusation resonates sharply. I raise an incredulous eyebrow. "Hold on, back up a bit, huh?" I respond, utterly baffled and taken aback by the audacity of the claim. It is true I am a bit of a man whore, but the audacity of the confrontation left me bewildered, especially considering the presence of children nearby.
     "Don't act dumb, whore!" Mrs. Hofferson retorts sharply. "Where's Astrid?" she demands. "First of all I need you to watch your language; there are children around. Secondly, I genuinely don't know," I respond calmly. Mr. Hofferson interjects, "Don't lie to us! People saw you and Astrid going back home together."
     "She was merely taking my drunk butt home," I explain, passing Saga to Erik and directing him toward Ian, Runa, and Zephyr. "Oh, sure," Mrs. Hofferson scoffs, "the man-whore did absolutely nothing with her! Like we'd believe that!"
         "We didn't do anything," I assert, standing firm in my denial amidst the accusations.
         "Gods, you're just fucking her life!" Mrs. Hofferson's voice reverberates with frustration. "You've planted these misguided ideals in her head, steering her away from us so you can sink your teeth into her."
         "Oh, I see," I retort, crossing my arms. "You just can't handle that she's independent. That she's no longer willing to be your pawn, and she talks back because she's realized she doesn't have to listen to you."
        "You're doing it right now!" Mrs. Hofferson vehemently exclaims, gesturing wildly. "She should be a simple and doting housewife to Snoutlout, but noooo, you had to mess it up and claim it's sinful." I interject, "She never liked Snoutlout, and technically, he was involved with someone else long before he was betrothed to her also I think that all arrange marriages are fucked up."
        "You just want to get into her pants that's the only reason your helping her, but once she realizes your just using her to have your way with her she'll run back to us" she said. "We'll then you'll be waiting till you die because I'm not helping her just to have fun with her. You treat her like she's not even human, she's a warrior and a damn good one, she doesn't want to be a housewife she's a warrior she'll be helping me plumage enemy ships and save people" I said.
        "No man ever has good intentions so what really is your motive?," Mr. Hofferson asserts. "No man? Or is it just so normalized for men to be monsters, even though we're supposed to be protectors? Gods, you contradict yourself," I retort, casting a disdainful gaze at them. They seem poised to continue their argument when a timely interruption occurs.
          "They didn't do anything," Erik's voice chimes in, drawing our attention. As we turn, Erik stands with the children. "She dropped off Hiccup in his room," he explains, "but she slept with us because Saga was crying."
     A grateful smile graces my face. Thank the gods for you, kid. Erik shares, "Then she left to go and fly her dragon." I nod, saying, "Well, there you go, she's in the sky." The tension lingers as they scowl at me, and suddenly, Mr. Hofferson seizes me by the collar.
     "Stay away from our daughter; you've messed up her life enough," he warns with a menacing glare. I chuckle almost maniacally, seizing the opportunity to twist his arm. In an instant, he finds himself on the ground, writhing in pain with his right arm in distress. The power dynamic shifts,
       Adding increasing pressure with my heel against his back, I assert, "I'm not doing anything to her. She's making choices of her own free will. I merely opened her eyes to the possibilities beyond the confines of your family's expectations," I declare, pressing my heel to its limits, causing him to bleed and cry out in pain. Lifting my leg, I deliver a forceful kick. "Get outta here," I command, a low growl escaping my lips as I gaze down at him with a palpable sense of malice.
    

A/N

So I'm thinking after I finish this book that I'm going to create a 10 part mini story on before the events of this book, like where hiccup is becoming the dragon master and the peaceful king. Tell me your thoughts on the idea. Also this book should be closing soon I think I don't know maybe I'm just making it up as I go.

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⏰ Last updated: Jan 21 ⏰

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